𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘- 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 — down goes the bastard

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 quite liked to sneak into an inn and slither beneath freshly cleaned sheets; it would beat her little bedroom at the Slat, and it would certainly beat falling asleep in the prison they were about to break into... alas, there was simply no time to rest. They had to get on one of those rickety old wagons tonight, lest they miss the celebrations of Hringkälla.

 Nina had been the one to volunteer herself up for the task of chatting up the locals. She'd set out to try and discover the best place to lay their ambush for the wagon; Aleksa had offered to accompany... but in a land flooded with their enemies, it was best to let Nina go alone.

 After the absolute horrors they'd had pushed before them within Gestinge's; charred bread, odd-smelling herring, mouldy butter and sloppy soup, Aleksa had almost grabbed Kaz by his silly collar to demand something that wouldn't make her vomit.

 Thus they began their wait for lovely Nina Zenik in one of the small and crowded bakeries. It was a quaint little place, glass shelves lined with biscuits and jars of jam in all different flavours. There were bags of freshly made sweets, twisted pastries and biscuits that were shaped like wolves.

 Their table was smothered in plastic wrappers and paper napkins. Crumbs had been spilled, little sugar granules sprinkled to and fro as they munched and nibbled on their sweet treats. Aleksa had stuffed three cherry-filled pastries, an almond-flavoured wolf cookie and two and a half cups of sweetened hot chocolate into her gut... now, she leaned back in her chair, hands rubbing circles on her belly.

 Inej tucked her smile behind her hands, "People are staring at you, Aleksa."

 Aleksa blinked a bleary eye, peering up at some of the people still pottering around the bakery. A lovely middle-aged woman with Fjerdan blond hair left over her shoulders smiled, eyes cast to Aleksa's bloated belly. Aleksa turned back to her group, "They think I'm pregnant."

 Inej ducked her head, and even Matthias who'd neglected his — now cold — hot chocolate and cookie to stare out the window, snorted.

 Kaz felt his own lips curl for a moment as he briefly glanced at the mess before her. Stacks of wrappers, two absolutely drained cups of warm hot chocolate... Then he looked at her, how she seemed to be moulding into the shape of the chair, her belly poking out, trying to keep from exploding, "You eat like a pregnant woman."

 "I just don't stop until I'm satisfied." Aleksa chuckled, gleaming teeth on full display, her tongue still wrapped with cherry, "Which can be applied to many of the things I do."

 A chunk of biscuit smacked her straight in the forehead, Inej Ghafa was the culprit, "Don't be so vulgar."

 "She knows how to be little else." Said Matthias, and though he'd most certainly meant it as an insult, Aleksa bellowed, fingers patting her belly.

 "Helvar! You know me so well!" But then she cocked her head as she surveyed him. His jaw was taut, his arms flexing and unflexing as he stared out of the window to brood. He was thinking of Nina, "I'm not sure why you're complaining though, Nina and I are very alike... and yet you love her silver tongue, don't you?"

 The druskelle grew pink in the face.

 She let him stew in his blistering skin for a short while. He continued to stare out the window, eyes moving with the crowd. He seems to follow the picture-perfect Fjerdan couples. Men with stubble or beards lining their chins, fair-skinned women with their flowing blonde hair trailing the wind like golden banners.

 He missed being home, that much was obvious. The others had gotten back to chatting; Inej laughed as Jesper tipped some salt into Wylan's hot chocolate and Kaz only watched with a brow climbing his forehead... Was she really going to offer an olive branch to a Fjerdan, a druskelle, no less?

 Aleksa almost wanted to plant her lips shut and turn away from him because his hind simply didn't deserve comfort. He'd set out to capture Nina at first, hadn't he? He'd spat vile words, and called them names from the moment they'd met... but wow, did he look pitiful as he watched a group of little blonde kids running around with wide ocean-blue eyes. They caught snowflakes, they tossed their scarves at one another...

 She knew what it meant to miss home. Aleksa might have been born and raised in Ravka, but from the moment Aleksa had stepped her clunky old boots upon Ketterdam's slick cobble, she had known that it was where she belonged. Having to be away for so long, even if she had Alina and Zoya and the others... it had been hell.

 She'd thought about her Crows every single day. She'd dreamed of being back in her old and dusty room, wrapped within the blanket she'd stolen from some plush merchant... Aleksa brushed a crumb from her front, "You miss it?"

 Matthias's face twitched as though he was already conjuring a scowl, but as a child pelted his sister with a mighty snowball, it fell immediately, "You have no idea."

 "You might not get it, because I know Ketterdam is rather rough around the edges... but it's my home. I wasn't born there, I was born somewhere in Ravka —"

 "— You don't know where?"

 Aleksa shook her head. She wished she knew, she wished she could have had a glimpse of what her life could have been if Aleksander had never sought her out... if her parents had lived, "Nope. When I was just a baby... Alek — The Darkling came looking for me. He chased my parents through the fold... and somehow, I made it to the other side. They didn't. Some rich lord who owned a bunch of land found me and took me to one of his estates — he'd turned it into an orphanage."

 Wylan and Jesper had fallen silent, so silent, in fact, that Wylan had forgotten about his salty drink and took a sip. His face scrunched as he swallowed.

 "The kids there never liked me because I was different — I spoke to the shadows... when I was four years old, the Darkling came. He told me that he was my brother, that he'd been looking for me for so very long... he took me to the Little Palace." Aleksa pulled on a stray piece of fabric hanging from her shirt. She wasn't quite sure why she was telling him everything, "It was nice, for a while. He played his role of the big brother and the teacher eager to tear down the fold, until I got something wrong. He'd hurt me, force me to do better... for fourteen years that went on. I got out when I was eighteen, ran away — I just needed some time to figure myself out, to try and grow stronger so that when I returned, he might have deemed me ready to face the Fold."

 Inej leaned closer, her hand reaching across the table to rub a little circle into Aleksa's pink knuckle.

 The Grisha peered at her Crows; at Jesper Fahey who had been more of a brother than the black Heretic could have ever been. At Inej, a sister and best friend who scolded her ever so relentlessly, yet was there to offer up a warmth nobody else could possibly radiate... and her dearest pretty boy... "I fled to Ketterdam for fun, and I ran into this sorry lot. Saved them, became a Crow, a member of the Dregs. I found a place where I could finally belong..."

 Matthias had been listening intently, his heart ever so slowly thawing as the story began to unfold. He couldn't understand why the urge to place chains around her wrists, to sneer at her... had suddenly dried up. He was weak. First Nina, now the idiots surrounding him... except for Kaz. Never the Demjin.

 "What happened?" He asked.

 "Eventually I found out who my brother really was, and when the Sun Summoner called for my help, I aided her. I fought him... and we won but it wasn't without cost, and all I ever did was think about how far away from home I was."

 Maybe she'd taken up Inej's ideals; her people's ideals. The Suli were travellers, moving all across the world and never quite staying still enough to deem a place home. They found their homes within the people they loved.

 There was a short breather... and it was Inej who shattered the silence, her eyes on Matthias, "Are you worried about Nina being out there?"

 "No."

 "She's very good at this, you know. She's a natural actress."

 "I'm aware," he said grimly. "She can be anything to anyone."

 "She's best when she's Nina."

 "And who is that?"

 "I suspect you know better than any of us."

 He crossed his huge arms. "She's brave," he said grudgingly.

 "And funny."

 "Foolish. Every last thing needn't be a joke."

 "She's very pretty." Aleksa sighed, slumping back as though she were Matthias the besotted fool.

 Matthias scowled, "Loud."

 Inej's smile was slow, "So why do your eyes keep searching the crowd for her?"

 There she was again, Aleksa's darling Inej taking on the role of delightful matchmaker. First, it had been a stern talking to Aleksa, and now poor Matthias was at her mercy... Aleksa almost felt sorry for him. She scooped up his cold and untouched cup of hot chocolate and took a swig even despite her stomach begging for some respite, "Matthias you've gone pink."

 "I have not."

 "Yes, you have," Aleksa spoke in time with Inej. Aleksa grinned as the druskelle dropped his head; it was almost as fun to tease him as it was to threaten him. She waved a hand, "She's played matchmaker with me, too, I think our dear Wraith is making her way around the group."

 Matthias learned forth, utterly oblivious to the way Kaz Brekker's attention was ever so suddenly on their little chat, "With you?"

 Aleksa moved to speak, for she too hadn't quite realised Kaz's dark eyes were planted on her cheeks, her eyelashes drifting over them... But it was then, saving her in such dutiful time, that the bell atop the bakery door jingled and Nina Zenik sailed inside looking as lovely as ever.

 She fanned herself with a hand, the apples of her cheeks as red as cherries, "Someone needs to start feeding me sweet rolls immediately."

 Nobody could miss the relief on Matthias' face at her wonderful appearance.

 The Heartrenders eyes practically bulged at the sight of sweets and pastries splayed over the table. Her wiggling fingers seized a cookie resting before Aleksa, and with her large bite, Nina moaned in delight, "Saints!"

 Aleksa nodded, eyes bleary as though she'd guzzled a tonne of cherry-flavoured alcohol. She patted her belly again, slumping further into her seat as crumbles toppled from Nina's lips, "Lovely, aren't they?"

 It was then Nina took in their dear Shadows appearance, "Just how many did you swallow?"

 "I don't know... four... five... I lost count and now I need a nap." But Aleksa perked up just slightly as she reached her sugar-smeared hands towards the collar of Nina's dress. It hung low, showing the valley between her breasts... right where a smattering of cookie crumbs decided to make their home. Aleksa swatted them, "The powdered sugar was meant for the cookies, not those, Nina."

 "They're just as sweet without the sugar."

 "Oh, I bet they are." Aleksa grinned as she looked at Matthias — a very pink Matthias — "I'll soon let you know if that's fact or fiction."

 Kaz rolled his darkened eyes, "This is how the world will end. Aleksa and Nina flirting until we all waste away."

 "I can spare a pretty comment for you, handsome."

 Nina sorted, and soon enough it was raining crumbs.

 It had taken their lovely Nina Zenik less than an hour to discover the route in which the wagons trailed; most, if not all, passed by a little old roadhouse known as the Wardens Waystation on the way towards the Ice Court. It wasn't by any means close by... thus the Crows slid their arms into their coats, smothered their fingers in their gloves and began to trudge through Djerholm. It took two long and gruelling hours before they could finally stop and catch their breaths.

 Aleksa had topped to the floor, lying in a pitiful little heap of obsidian, while Inej seized her opportunity and used the Shadow Summoner as a pillow. They were a mass of limbs... and then Nina had slithered close, stealing away Aleksa's limitless warmth.

 They'd all been more than happy to let Jesper scout the area as he toppled back and forth on the balls of his feet; even worming their way through snow for two hours hadn't been enough to quell his bursts of energy... but at least there were no gambling dens — one bright side to the Fjerdans utter snobbery.

 He'd bounded off, legs twisting like branches of a tree coiling around one another high in the skies. He kicked up clouds of frost, leaving behind a little puff as he sprinted into the night. He'd been equipped with a flare or two, ready and willing to light one the moment a prison cart rolled by — he'd signal them, and then he'd sprint back in record time.

 Aleksa hadn't a clue how long she'd been snoozing when Nina had tapped her arm, poking her wriggling fingers closer to her stomach when the Shadow merely groaned in response. Aleksa jolted, swatting her lovely Heartrender away, "Saints, Nina!"

 "Ticklish?" Nina's fingers pulsed as though ready to strike again.

 "I'll bite them off."

 "You wouldn't."

 "Yes, she would." Kaz's voice came from some ways away.

 His back was to them, eyes cast to his pale skin. Nina had spent the past thirty minutes tailoring himself, Jesper and Inej of any markings or tattoos that might draw suspicion. From the crow and cup, to the old scars upon Inej's wrist. Aleksa bore no ink depicting an indenture, no lines on her wrist or bicep to show her loyalty to the Dregs... but he did know about the scratch marks on her side.

 If they were to be taken to prison... well, it was only obvious they'd all be stripped, searched, cleaned and forced into some terribly itchy prison garb — the guards would see the lines on her side, the pearl strings the Volcra had left behind. He'd seen them only once, right after they'd managed to squeeze themselves out of the fold with Alina Starkov and her tracker.

 Aleksa had been smothered in monster blood then, from head to toe she'd looked as though she'd been dipped in oil. He could remember when she'd tossed her sodden shirt to the floor with a loud splat, how even through the trickling lines of obsidian staining her glowing flesh... he'd spied the slashes. The jagged marks had torn from her ribs all the way to the small of her back...

 Aleksa, unaware of the way Kaz's breathing had quite suddenly picked up as he thought of golden skin smothered and torn, merely laughed into the air, watching as her breath floated like smoke from a stone chimney, "He's right, Nina. I use my mouth quite a lot, you know."

 Nina couldn't deny that her lip had curled; it was quite nice having someone so similar around, "As do I."

 But then she sobered and peered at the white shirt covering the Shadow. It was loose and baggy, with frilled sleeves and a pretty collar and no doubt her suspenders were clinging to her shoulders beneath her billowing coat, "Kaz said... well..." She nodded to her side.

 All Kaz had said was that the Shadow needed her own bout of Tailoring for some scars on her side. No elaboration at all.

 But while Nina seemed reluctant to voice whatever was whirring within her pretty head, Aleksa's lips only parted before she nodded, shuffling out of her coat and plucking down her suspenders before she unbuttoned the lower six buttons of her shirt. Aleksa pulled it higher, exposing her belly that tightened as a chilly breeze brushed by. Goosebumps smothered her skin, but even amidst their white snowscape, the scars still gleamed like traces of moonlight.

 Nina frowned, "What —"

 "The Volcra."

 Nina's head snapped up, but it was Matthias who spoke, "You fought the abominations?"

 "She tore one apart with her bare hands." Kaz said. As ever his words were flippant, but they caught Nina's attention in more ways than one. Yes, the feat was impressive and utterly unheard of... but Nina Zenik was struck by the... well, it might have been pride in his eyes.

 "Yes, yes," Aleksa waved, hopping from foot to foot, her boots smooshing the snow beneath the soles, "I'm impressive, magnificent, utterly —"

"— Full of yourself?" Kaz offered.

 "Exactly..." Aleksa grinned, "But I'm also freezing my ass off, hurry up, Zenik."

 Nina did as she was told, and with a delicate touch, she glossed her fingers over the slashes of white. They tore across Aleksa like a smear on a map, like... like the Fold had once done to Ravka. They faded and faded as Nina breathed out and repeated her actions again and again — it was always harder to cover up such deep incisions.

 Once Aleksa had been cleared, she hastened to button her shirt and burrow herself within her coat. She glanced down at the Wraith, her back against a log with her eyes closed somewhat peacefully, "Stay with her?" Aleksa directed Nina, "We'll wait on the road."

 It didn't take long for Wylan to finally show his prowess; the plan was to obstruct the road and bring the next wagon that came rolling through to a halt. They'd be able to sneak in, secure themselves in the place of some fortunate prisoners and Kaz would seal the door shut. They'd be well on their way... Aleksa just hoped the Fjerdan guards were as lazy as the bouncers in Ketterdam.

 "Once the wagon stops, the tree will buy us about fifteen minutes and not much more," Kaz said. "Move quickly. The prisoners should be hooded, but they'll be able to hear, so not a word. We can't afford to arouse suspicion. For all they know, this is a routine stop, and we want to keep it that way."

 The smattering of outcasts tucked themselves in the gully, bodies and faces obscured as they waited. Aleksa wasn't quite like Inej who could pray to her Saints and believe things would turn out just as they should... she was quite the opposite, actually. A pessimist who managed to find the fun in getting captured. But that was back in Ketterdam, where the fools she'd run into would have never expected a Grisha to reveal herself and take their lives.

 She was in Fjerda now, and while both Nina and Jesper would find themselves in quite the pickle should either of them get caught... Aleksa knew the druskelle would spare no expenses when it came to her.

 The last of the Morozova's. The final Shadow Summoner to walk the earth. Everyone thought her a Saint, a girl who had popped up when she had been summoned, only to die without a trace the moment the fold had collapsed.

 Aleksa found that she'd likely need another hand if she were to count all of the things that could go wrong; a guard could be accompanying the prisoners in the back. What if they had managed to get their hands on one of those strange Grisha — the ones who could sense another's abilities? They'd be utterly screwed. Hell, even if they succeeded... They'd still be prisoners. Things might have changed while Matthias was away. Their security could have gotten tighter, their walls thicker and their chains heavier.

 Aleksa swallowed, spying eyes glaring at her from the other side of the road. Aleksander was grinning, thinned lips peeking between the thrush, gaunt cheekbones almost tearing through the moonlight casting him in an eerie glow.

 She turned away, and then, just as she thought that Jesper had managed to mistake a wagon for thin bloody air... it rolled toward them. The wagon clicked and creaked, rumbling to a stop before the tree as one of the drivers cursed and spluttered to his companion.

 Aleksa watched as the two slid down from the box seat they'd been slouching upon and made their way over to the tree... Aleksa had expected more than a single curse in Fjerdan and for the larger of the two to pluck his cap from his balding head only to scratch the small sliver of skin poking from his shirt.

 Aleksa could practically hear the way Kaz's eyes rolled into the depths of his head, his tongue laden with judgement as he muttered, "How lazy can they be?"

 It took a while, but eventually the idiots poking at the fallen tree, scratching their guts and prodding their own chins came to the witty conclusion that the tree was, in fact, not going to stand up on two measly little branches and plod along so they could move. They strolled back to the wagon and seized a heavy coil of fraying rope hanging on the side of their box while one of them unhitched one of the horses to help drag the tree from their path.

 Kaz shifted then, and like clockwork, Aleksa set her hands upon the ground, boots shuffling through the snow as she readied herself to move like a cat ready to pounce.

 For the sake of the others, Kaz parted his lips, "Be ready." 

 He skittered over the top of the gully and towards the back of the cart. He'd left his boring old walking cane in one of the ditches Jesper had been more than happy to dig with a pick. They'd stored their various weapons, for despite the fact that Aleksa would have been quite alright with some Fjerdan plucking her flimsy bow or Inej's dull knives... perhaps it was best not to get themselves caught with any weapons when they were supposed to be simple little prisoners.

 While Kaz's gait was uneven — one foot heavier than the other — he hid any pain that he was feeling... from the others at least. Aleksa had spent far too much of her time surveying his face, watching his thin lips curl towards the ground, or on marvellous occasions, towards the skies. She knew when his brows twitched, forming the slightest divot; he was pushing himself.

 She spied that little mark on his forehead before he vaulted over the gully. The tick of his tightened jaw, the way his fingers twitched just ever so slightly as though they were retraining themselves from soothing out the ache brushing through his bones.

 She watched him slip one of the lockpicks from the lining of his coat, snowflakes falling from his shoulders. His gloved fingers slid to the padlock, cradling it as though it were a gleaming gem... or perhaps a stack of crisp kruge. It took him exactly four seconds to weasel the pick through the lock; it sprang free and Kaz swiftly shoved the bolt securing their nightmare aside.

 Aleksa shifted again, fingers curling within a pile of melting snow... but the signal never came. She peered up, cerulean eyes practically glowing as sunlight bounced from flakes of white and illuminated her face — Kaz wasn't moving. He remained utterly motionless as he peered into the wagon... and Aleksa was certain she knew why.

 She'd seen it through the looking glass he'd passed her back in the cafe — the small space, the chains around the prisoner's hands... the way each of them had barely enough room to breathe. Perhaps Kaz simply hadn't realised just how close they'd all have to be... but that wasn't right, Kaz Brekker wouldn't miss such an obvious little detail.

 A nudge from Inej broke Aleksa's still gaze burning through her Bastard's back, "What's he doing?"

 Aleksa blinked; she wasn't a mind reader... hell even if she was, she scarcely thought she'd ever truly understand the inner workings of Kaz's devious little brain. Though she supposed she knew him better than most, and the plan needed to be enacted. Aleksa shrugged, and with all the ease Inej had managed to teach her, Aleksa followed Kaz's footsteps, sure to call for the shadows to smother her trail.

 She couldn't say a word as she approached in fear of giving them all away, but more often than not it wouldn't have been an issue. Kaz could sense when someone was near, after all, he'd spent years looking over his shoulder just in case. The only times Aleksa had ever managed to creep up on him like some little beast prowling through the night, was when a room was cascaded in darkness; she would blend in, becoming a mere wisp, like the tendrils coiling the air.

 Her boot nudged his ankle; something only Aleksa would ever do and yet Kaz Brekker flinched. He'd tighten his jaw, he'd flex or curl those pale fingers smothered in leather... But Aleksa Morozova could say with certainty that she had never seen Dirtyhands flinch; least of all to her touch.

 For now, she swallowed the silly sense of hurt that blossomed with his jolt — it was to be expected, so why in Ghenzens name did she feel hollow — and peered inside the wagon. She'd been wrong, it wasn't merely that Kaz had underestimated the space between the prisoners... it was just that there were more in this wagon — considerably more.

 Those who had passed through the checkpoint as they stared through the looking glass had been seated and chained, enough room to at least inhale without stealing someone else's puff of air. This wagon was filled with standing prisoners, each of them pressed up against one another, hardly a hair of room for their lungs to contract.

 Their hands and feet had been shackled with silver metal, and iron collars were coiled around their necks, their chains clipped to the hooks sprouting from the wagon's roof — should they slump or move just an inch too much, the chains would grow taught, the collars would dig into their flesh and starve them of oxygen.

 Aleksa didn't care that she had to be chained and collared; she had been before by her dear — well, by him, but he hadn't paid her at the end of it all. Kaz Brekker, however, had blanched. His pale-as-snow skin was gaunt and bleak... an almost grey tone seeping in. She nudged him again and he swallowed so very harshly, meeting her eyes for the briefest of seconds.

 It wasn't fear in his eyes, no, it would never be fear... but there was something in those darkening pools that Aleksa had never seen before.

 He pushed himself up and into the wagon, and in place of movements that were cleverly and carefully crafted, Kaz was rigid and jerky as he unlocked the prisoners' collars. Aleksa couldn't help but stare at his shaking fingers as she rose a hand, summoning the shadows to give Matthias a little nudge. It would have been easy enough to wave at him... but she couldn't help but grin as she imagined the Fjerdans face twisted as though he'd swallowed a bitter lemon.

 One of the prisoners moved in place, his head smothered b a sack, jolting as Kaz's gloved fingers wrangled with the collar, "What's happening?"

 "Tig!" Matthias growled, telling the sorry old prisoner to hush himself in Fjerdan. His voice had changed, and for the first time, Aleksa could truly spy the druskelle he'd been keeping under lock and key. The man hidden behind the boy.

 His hiss sent a wave through the prisoners, each of them standing tall and straight as though a general had given his soldiers a command. They were silent after that, and Aleksa could see Matthias almost deflate. Maybe he was truly beginning to understand that being a druskelle wasn't such a noble thing after all.

 Kaz managed to get his rattling fingers to unlock seven sets of hand and foot shackles, and one by one, Inej and Matthias unloaded the prisoners closest to the door. Aleksa watched them go, holding the prisoners in a way a guard would until they were left at the edge of the gully.

 Nina soon dropped their pulses, and the prisoners dropped to the ground like a smattering of flies. They were fortunate; if they managed to get themselves up on their feet and keep attention away from themselves... they might just make it. If not... that wasn't Aleksa's problem.

 The prisoners had consisted of four men — one far older than any of them — as well as a middle-aged woman, as well as two Shu's, one girl and one boy. To cast your eyes on them, only to look at the crows a moment later was... well, Aleksa just hoped all of the guards were as lazy as the ones still trying to haul the tree from the road.

 Then, a bird call flitted through the air. A familiar sound, one in which Inej would spout as a warning. They had less than five minutes to secure themselves within the wagon... though it seemed that the crows had fallen rather fortunate themselves, for the guards they were trying to hastily to avoid, were causing quite the ruckus as they bellowed words of encouragement to the poor horse huffing and puffing as hits hooves dug into the ground — the tree had slowly begun to budge.

 Aleksa remained by the open door, nose cast to the crisp chill settling within the Fjerdan air. She'd be locked up tight soon enough, her hands bound and her neck encased in metal — she supposed that perhaps closing her eyes and counting the checkpoints would be a good enough way to pass the time, to pass the sensation of being trapped like a rabbit in a snare.

 From barred windows, to silver shackles. Aleksa shook her head, there just had to be something wrong with her for feeling that slight twinge of adrenaline still residing in her gut.

 Matthias had swiftly finished locking Wylan and Nina into place, though Aleksa had most definitely caught the Fjerdan's cheeks growing pink when Nina had twisted her hair around a finger just so that he could have better access to her neck. The fool was utterly besotted.

 But then... Aleksa wasn't exactly one to talk, was she?

 Still, Aleksa hopped into the wagon to finish up the job. She first locked Matthias into place... revelling in the sneer that twisted at his nose as she grinned. So much for the druskelle capturing the Grisha. Then, it was Inej's turn.

 Neither the Shadow nor the Wraith uttered a word as Aleksa carefully placed the shackles around Inej's wrists. The Suli girl had been bound far too often to deserve to feel her freedom being stripped away once more... but it helped when Inej opened her eyes, coming face to face with a friend who stilled her forceful hand in favour of careful fingers. She was gentle, as gentle as her shadows coiling through the air of the night.

 Aleksa swallowed as she placed the hood over her head, stealing away her sight as well as her movement. It made her feel sick... but there was still a job to be done; Aleksa took her signal from Kaz — a short nod of his pale head — and hopped back outside. She closed the wagon door, cringing as a single creak bellowed in the night. She fastened the lock and slid the bolt into place.

 Not a second later did the opposite side of the door swing open. Rather than worry about a one-way locking system... Kaz Brekker had simply stolen away the use of the lock. He'd merely swiped away the hinges, leaving the bolt and padlock utterly useless. It was a trick he'd used time and time again, far easier to steal the hinges than sit idle staring at an unpickable lock. Kaz had even said once that this particular trick was ideal for faking suicides... which Aleksa dutifully kept in mind.

 Aleksa knew Kaz's mind was skewed now; with his jittering fingers and lopsided stance — one in which he would usually keep smothered — so she hadn't quite expected him to gather the courage and stomach to hold out his hand. His dark leather gloves glinted as he held his palm upwards, beckoning Aleksa forth, and like each time before, Aleksa slid her fingers along the material and accepted his help.

 The moment both snow-covered boots trampled within the wagon, Kaz set himself at the hinges once more. Aleksa moved into position right beside Inej, hardly a hair left for Kaz to squeeze beside her; it'd be an uncomfortable journey of warm breath and unfamiliar touch, but they'd have to grit their teeth and keep their complaints to themselves... something Aleksa was scarcely known for.

 But the feeling of a back pressing against her own wasn't what made Aleksa falter as she scanned the wagon... no, it was Kaz's hands again. She'd stare at them often, picturing the pale skin buried beneath leather, the ways scars twisted over his skin like veins. His slim fingers that flexed and tautened... they were too slow. His gloved hands were clumsy, and being clumsy was not a trait she thought Kaz Brekker could ever possess.

 Kaz dropped one of the screws, a light ping making her ears twitch like a guard dog. The toe of her boot could barely reach the thing, yet still, she managed to kick it just enough to roll right back to the Bastard. They had seconds left, seconds for Kaz's jittery fingers to offer the solace of a closed door... if the guards came back before he finished, they were utterly done for.

 She wanted to speak, to whisper some witty little comment that would make her bastard roll his eyes and replace the hinges out of spite — if only she could have risked the noise. Aleksa watched him crouch down, swallowing a hefty breath before he set out for the second hinge — Aleksa couldn't help herself.

 The shadows parted way for his eyes, retreating closer to Aleksa's waving fingers. Perhaps a little bit of light would be enough to satiate his terrible job. There were footsteps then, and Aleksa could feel even the shadows in her grasp slithering and sliding in warning, begging for her hold to falter and descend them all into absolute darkness.

 Aleksa heard another ping of a fallen screw and clamped her eyes shut. She'd be able to take the guards, that much would be easy enough... but how in Ghenzen's name would they cover their tracks? The Ice Court would descend into chaos if the wagon didn't show and security would bristle.

 They'd never make it.

 Suddenly, the door shook as the guard outside gave the chained padlock a stiff rattle. The door would have creaked and tipped had Kaz not braced his hands, had Aleksa's shadows not coiled around the door, tugging and tugging until it simply wouldn't budge.

 The pitiful door held and all that could be heard from outside was a shout in Fjerdan and more footsteps. The reins cracked and the cart surged. Aleksa almost stumbled, eyes and hands far too focused on the damned door.

 Only when Kaz's eyes were before her, swiftly assessing each little crease in her face, did Aleksa dare to breathe. He hesitated just a moment, before finally drenching Aleksa in the darkness. A hood was shoved over her head, it was damp and smelt absolutely terrible... but they were fine. They made it... and they were well on their way to the bloody Ice Court.

 Aleksa heard the expected rattling beside her as Kaz locked himself in. It was easy for him, a cheap magician's trick that he'd learnt as a mere boy still skipping the streets of Ketterdam... but more than sound, Aleksa could feel him. His arm was almost secured against her own, pressed against one another from shoulder to elbow as he locked the collar at his neck.

 Kaz Brekker could stomach her touch here and there — a light grasp of the hand to help her up, the swift bump of an elbow to get her lips to finally cease their chattering... but this, Aleksa knew, was too much for him. His breathing was shallow as though he'd been struck by a nasty cold... but then he rasped, panting like a rabbit caught in a snare. It was something Aleksa had never heard from him, something she'd only ever heard rattling from her own mouth on the nights Aleksander would shroud her in darkness, loneliness and barred windows.

 It would have been foolish to think it would stop there, that Kaz Brekker would suddenly right himself and return to appearing as nothing more than a statue crafted from cold, hard marble. But no... Aleksa felt her fingers reach from within her shackles as Kaz tipped against her, head bumping her shoulder — Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands himself... had fainted.

━━━━━━━

DATE: 23/11/2024

:･ﾟ★ apologies for yet another break in updates; writing just really isn't appealing to me atm so i wouldn't expect hurried updates :(

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