𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐘 — fool's errand

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 think that she knew Kaz Brekker, that perhaps she knew the real boy beneath the guise of a fake name. She knew that about him, of course she did. Within her first few days of working with the Dregs, she'd scoured, ears alight whenever someone mentioned her Bastards name.

 Nobody had known him before he'd become a vicious little thing — but there wasn't a chance he'd started out that way. Contrary to his own beliefs, Kaz did let his secrets spill... he should have known that Aleksa collected them like shells on the shore and stuffed them in her pockets.

 It was useless pieces of information that she was sure so few would have bothered to think twice about — but if Aleksander had taught her anything, it was to use people's words and actions against them. He'd told her to find their pressure points... just like he had done with her desire for love.

 So all that time ago when Aleksa had taken Milo into her arms, she'd tucked away Kaz's sneer and his strange mutterings.

 'It's a pigmy, they're completely useless.' He had said in a very matter-of-fact way. Strange knowledge for someone who'd claimed to have grown within the dull streets of Ketterdam. He was far more well-spoken than most, capable of doing numbers on his own even when Per Haskell himself struggled after years of owning the business.

 He wasn't born in Ketterdam, Aleksa just knew it — and if that was the case, there wasn't a chance in the hell that had birthed him, that Brekker was his true name. He didn't like loose ends, no he tore those off with a sneer on his face... he wouldn't have allowed his past to cling to him like a snivelling child.

 But for knowing that much about him... Aleksa just couldn't understand what the hell he could have possibly been thinking right now. He still hadn't arrived, even after Inej had started her climb. He could keep things from her, but they were never important things; just little details that would likely irritate her endlessly...

 This was different. He was gone and so was Nina. They were alone in a prison that dedicated itself to snuffing out the lives of thieves, thugs and Grisha alike. Aleksa just couldn't understand it; why would he force his already bad leg into moving up flights of stairs when Matthias and Jesper could have helped Nina in a far more efficient manner?

 Aleksa shook her head ever so lightly, stray strands of already curling hair toppling against her cheek; she couldn't focus on her blundering idiot parading the halls of a damned prison, she had to focus on Inej.

 Aleksa kept her shadows rippling, watching with glee as they clawed at the minuscule embers within the incinerator while Inej climbed and climbed. She could see a sheen of sweat coating her dear Wraith's wonderful skin, the way droplets rolled past her cheeks and soaked the front of her shirt... but the most worrying part was Inej's slippers. While the heat had lessened drastically, it simply wasn't enough to prevent Inej's hands from blistering, it wasn't enough to keep her rubber soles from melting.

 "Come on, my darling Inej," Aleksa muttered as Inej skidded down a small length of the piping-hot stone wall, "You're the Wraith, and you've never been beaten before."

 Inej stilled at that, her fingers curling until her knuckles blanched, her rubber-coated toes finding another notch in the wall... you've never been beaten before. Aleksa was right. No matter how frightening the highwires had been as a child, she'd always succeeded. No matter whether a net had been beneath her or not, she'd never fallen.

 Even when Tante Heleen had stolen her away, Inej Ghafa had never given up. After bruises had lined her flesh, after Heleen had punished her for hours on end, Inej still kept her back straight.

 She spared a look down, peering between her own two feet as Aleksa kept her shadows coming... She was right. Inej took another step higher, soles struggling to find purchase within the notch, her fingers trembled, sweat coating her palms... but she kept going, because she was the Wraith, she was Inej Ghafa, and her freedom was waiting for her above.

 Aleksa could almost hear the winces tugging at Jesper's face whenever Inej slipped or stilled, she could hear Wylans pacing, hear Matthias grumbles about Kaz and Nina. But even despite it all, Inej soon made it out. Rainfall had begun to patter from above, dousing the blistering cheeks of the Wraith, soaking the rope she soon tossed down to the rest of her crew.

 It was then, that the alarms began to sound.

 Aleksa's grin faltered as swiftly as it'd blossomed. Her hold on the shadows was dropped, and without a second thought, Aleksa snatched an old shirt from one of the metal bins and mopped away the light splatters of rain that had managed to topple their way onto the floor.

 Matthias joined her; they all knew it was far too early for the next chime of bells. The alarm had been tripped, alerting every single Fjerdan guard that something was wrong. Jesper and Wylan busied themselves by tossing any evidence of their presence into the bins or into the incinerator itself — they couldn't afford to leave a single trace of themselves behind.

 The moment the refuse room looked as though it hadn't been touched, Matthias and Wylan climbed their way towards Inej, towards a breath of freedom. They were armed with a set of shears Jesper had managed to find, as well as a shoddy grappling hook their sharpshooter had managed to craft. Aleksa and Jesper remained below, keeping their eyes peeled for their stupid, stupid barrel rat.

 Jesper rocked on his feet, tipping back and forth as his hands curled and unfurled with each passing second and as Aleksa looked at his glowing cheeks she cocked her head, "How was it?"

 "Hm?" Jesper blinked furiously, tearing his sights from the path ahead, "How was what?"

 "Using your powers?"

 "Oh!" Jesper cleared his throat. It still felt strange to him that he'd been one of the most pivotal parts of their plan, that he'd tapped back into something he tried to keep buried. It was instilled within him that his power would only cause him harm — at least, that's what his father had said. Still... There was some strange sense of relief that came with flaunting his skills, something that very nearly drowned out his desire to deal a deck of cards, "It was weird."

 "You're glowing."

 "Always am, bug." He furrowed his brows then, looking down at their little shadow, "I get why you use yours so often. It felt..."

 "Quenching?" Aleksa supplied; he might have been rocking to and fro, and his fingers were jittery... but that had only just set in. His powers had kept his itching fingers satisfied for a short while, "Relieving?"

 "Both... I — I don't know how to feel about it."

 "It's terrifying, especially considering we live in a hell hole that would love to sell us off."

 "There is that little nugget, yeah."

 "You know what I think?"

 "What's that, bug?"

 Aleksa toppled against him, the top of her head met his bicep. She peered down at his wiggling fingers, ones that could so easily shift metals and earth if he so desired, "You use them all the time, really."

 "I can promise you —"

 "I trust that you're a good shot, but sometimes... you're too good of a shot."

 Jesper blinked, "You think I use my powers to shoot?"

 "I think that sometimes you hit impossible targets. You've never noticed a curved bullet?"

 It had happened multiple times before... Aleksa had seen it. Yet, she noticed, the bullets only ever seemed to curve and twist when the Crows were near. Rotty, Big Bol, Dimitri... none of them would have ever spied such a feat, for it simply never occurred unless Jesper Fahey was only in the company of their Shadow, Wraith and Bastard.

 It was as though his buried powers already knew who to trust.

 "I —" But Jesper faltered, twiddling his thumbs, "Maybe once or twice."

 "You're still the best sharpshooter I know, even without your little trick."

 "Thanks, bug." Jesper let his head topple to the side, very uncomfortably resting his cheek atop Aleksa's hair. Even after their chilly, and rather degrading shower, he could still smell a hint of rose and jasmine wafting from the long coils trailing down her back. He stayed there for a moment and then he nudged her, "Go on, I'll stay and wait for them."

 Aleksa, however, remained for a beat. She knew there was nothing much she could do but simply wait until Kaz reared his stupid head... But she didn't particularly like the idea of not being there.

 Jesper almost smiled at her hesitance, "They'll come, you know Kaz is too stubborn to get caught. Plus, he's got Nina, they'll be here. Get up there and dream of my gorgeous face while you wait."

 Aleksa snorted, "I'll do just that, thanks Jes."

 "Anytime, beautiful."

 It had taken every ounce of strength that Aleksa possessed to pull herself up that Saint-forsaken rope. Even with knots to assist their climb, Aleksa had still huffed and puffed as heat from the coals wafted along her skin, as rainfall coiled within her hair and weighed her down.

 Still, she pushed and pushed until a pale-as-snow hand reached out to her. She grasped ahold without a second thought, allowing its owner to pull her free from the hot hellhole. Aleksa let herself topple, her side meeting the glorious coolness of the roof tiles.

 She peered through a crack in the curtain of hair smothering her face, Matthias was looking down at her, an odd look in his eyes as he surveyed her lying limp on the roof, "Thank you, druskelle," the words were strange to utter after spending so long beneath his sneers, only to fire back at them with a knife or harsh words.

 Matthias nodded, stiff and awkward, but Aleksa hadn't expected anything less.

 "Have I ever told you all how much I hate Kaz's plans?" Aleksa breathed as she flicked her hands to and fro through the air. They were red-raw from tugging herself higher on the slippery coil of twine.

 Inej laughed, "Once or twice, remember Arken's —"

 "— Please never mention Arken or his dreadful train ever again." Aleksa's eyes were wide with the utmost horror. She could almost hear the dreadful cries of the Volcra again, she could almost feel the scraping of the metal train against its incomplete tracks. What a terrible journey that had been.

 "Duly noted."

 Soon enough, the rope grew taut, signalling that another set of poor unfortunate hands had to tug themselves higher and higher just to steal a single breath of fresh air. Matthias was beside the rope in seconds, and by the relief that swept over his features like a cool and sweet summer breeze, Aleksa knew Nina Zenik had found her way back to their murder of crows.

 The Heartrender was hauled higher with the help of both Matthias and Wylan, and she, much like Aleksa, fell to the tiled roof in a heap. She remained there, breathing heavily for a moment before meeting Aleksa's awaiting eyes.

 "Kaz?" Aleksa asked. She'd attained the ability to mask her own voice such a long time ago, it was almost second nature. She swallowed that little hint of worry on her tongue and buried the slight swell of anger for the boy who went against their plans as she looked to Nina for answers.

 All Nina could do was shake her head, "He went off without me, I'd hoped he'd found his way back here —" She almost said 'back to you' because if Nina knew one thing that could make Kaz Brekker turn away from whatever devious little ploy he'd concocted... It was the Shadow.

 Aleksa ran her tongue over her teeth, a dull nod jostling her drenched hair. Strands clung to her skin like a vice, each sopping cluster only allowing further cool droplets to soothe her flustered cheeks.

 She wanted to wait for Kaz and... and what? Strangle him? Punch his ridiculously sharp cheekbones? Actually, she wanted to do both of those things under the guise of rage, but truly, it would be because he'd made her worry.

 But the plan had to move forth. If all six of them lingered, waiting for their Bastard to unceremoniously clamber up the rope with Jesper at his heels, they'd likely get spotted. So Aleksa took charge, just as Kaz had always counted on her to do so when she was bare of his presence.

 "Inej, Nina," Aleksa spoke up, her voice edged with that familiar tone of command Aleksa had once grown used to hearing from Aleksander's tongue. She'd donned such a voice when she'd been named commander of the second army, "We'll head over to the embassy rooftop, take cover by the domes... No use in standing around in a group just waiting to be caught."

 And so they did just that; the three women of their little cluster of rogues and thieves hauled themselves along the grapple Jesper had formerly crafted and ever so carefully drew themselves closer to the embassy roof — it was arched, likely to dispel any heavy snowfall, but the tiles were slippery and Aleksa had to twist her feet just to get some kind of grip.

 It would have been rather embarrassing to fall to their deaths after persevering through so much already. The rooftop had various entrances that Aleksa had no doubt Kaz would be able to slither through as though he were a shadow she'd crafted — from chimneys and vents to the small glass domes that acted as skylights.

 The moment Aleksa brought herself into a crouch behind the biggest dome they could spy — the one overlooking the embassy's entrance rotunda — she finally cast her eyes back the way she came.

 Jesper was with Matthias and Wylan now, hunched over and panting as he rested his hands upon his knees... but he was alright. Then Aleksa finally spied that stupid head of oil-black hair that simply refused to remain slick. Kaz Brekker hauled himself upwards, refusing the awaiting hands that were offered to him. Aleksa watched as Matthias very pointedly crossed his arms, refusing to offer his palm to the 'demjin' — as he had so graciously deemed their leader.

 He was utterly dishevelled. Kaz's hair fell over his forehead, tangling with his obnoxiously long lashes. His face was crumpled, small splatters of blood hidden within the shadows cast by his stupid cheekbones. His shirt which had once been entirely spotless was now smothered in deep-red blood. Fresh blood.

 Even despite the state of him, and despite the small embers within Aleksa's gut begging for her to toss every colourful insult she knew his way... she felt her heartbeat grow faster, the poor thing positively pounded within her chest, almost begging to break free from the confines that kept it hidden. She released a shallow breath — he was alright.

 But with that revelation, came an absurd amount of blame. Their plan could have been perfect — it had been perfect. They should have gotten through seamlessly, each Crow had grown accustomed to sneaking within the shadows — hell even Matthias and their new little merchling would have been just fine if things had gone according to the plan.

 The alarm shouldn't have sounded. Nina shouldn't have returned alone. They shouldn't have been left waiting for Kaz Brekker.

 There had hardly been time to cover any traces of their presence and escape as the bells sounded; they could have been easily caught had a guard simply stumbled into the room they'd all been pacing within. He should have stuck to the damned plan, before deciding to turn tail and let fate handle their lives.

 Aleksa watched the remaining group of four covered their tracks; Matthias and Wylan coiled the rope they'd used and soon enough they were all atop the embassy roof, joining up with those that had trekked onwards.

 Aleksa moved her sights, peering through the glass dome as people came and went. Each of them were dressed in lavish silks and finery; jewels glittered upon necks and fingers, tulle swept across the pristine floor and champagne bubbled within crystal flutes...

 Inej's groan of discomfort brought Aleksa's attention back to the matter at hand — her feet. The rubber slippers Inej Ghafa used to scale impossible walls and tiptoe across rain-slicked rooftops were an abysmal mess. The heat of the incinerator had left them as nothing but tack clinging to her flesh... There were blisters on the skin visible and Inej looked about ready to toss herself into a heap of snow.

 Nina looked up, fingers gently trying to pry the rubber away, "I can't get them off..."

 Aleksa knew Kaz would have tossed his sights to Jesper, demanding that their secret little Durast pry them free with his powers; he wouldn't ask, he'd tell, because that's what Kaz did.

 The second Kaz's thinned lips parted, crusted blood at the corner of his mouth crumbling, Aleksa reached out and clasped Jesper's hand. She didn't need to say the words, she didn't even need to ask.

 Jesper sighed, and nodded, "Alright... Alright, move away, Nina."

 "What —"

 But Nina halted her own words as Jesper peered closer at Inej's rubber-coated feet. Aleksa knew it would have been taxing enough to extract ore from the prison bars he, Kaz, Wylan and Matthias would have been trapped behind in the prison... let alone to pry rubber from blistered and burned skin without harming their Wraith.

 But Jesper glanced up one more time, catching the pain in Inej's eyes, and the utter desperation within Aleksa's — their shadow never did like watching her Crows suffer. He held up his hands and focused with all his might on the particles of rubber, trying to draw them from Inej's battered skin.

 Nina gaped at him, eyes flicking between their Durast and the Shadow that had been in on his little secret, "You're a Fabrikator?"

 "Would you believe me if I said no?"

 "Why didn't you tell me?"

 But that was an easy question to answer. Why did any Grisha keep such a secret to themselves in Ketterdam? All out of fear of becoming nothing more than a slab of meat to trade for kruge, in the fear of becoming a slave.

 Aleksa rose a single brow as Nina looked her way, and that was answer enough. Those who now knew of Jesper's secret were some of very few that were privy to her own. Kaz, Inej, Nina, Matthias and Wylan... Oddly enough, Aleksa trusted them all, even the Fjerdan.

 Outside of that little crew of all shapes and sizes, only Nikolai Lanstov and the Grisha Triumvirate knew of the true face belonging to the last summoner of the Shadows. It was a scary thing to entrust such a secret to others when in mere seconds they could spill everything and she'd be dragged away kicking and screaming.

 Even after everything Aleksa, Alina and the others had accomplished... Grisha were no better off, not really.

 "Saints..." Jesper whispered, drawing Aleksa's attention.

 The Shadow soon settled beside him, her lips twisting into a rather sour grimace; the soles of Inej's feet were no longer sealed with rubber... but they were smothered in blisters, and each little inch of skin was red with fresh burns.

 Inej grimaced, not daring to take a peek, "That bad?"

 "No, you just have really ugly feet."

 Aleksa peered at Inej, shrugging a single shoulder, "I know I'd often boast about how lovely you are... but I'm afraid I can't defend feet."

 Inej shook her head, a slight swell of laughter lingering upon her tongue, "These ugly feet got you on this roof..." Then her slim and dark brow rose, eyes scouring thier shadow "Of all things, it would take feet to defeat you?"

 "I don't like feet, sue me. Actually, don't... I have no money." Aleksa patted her non-existent pockets; still to this day she had very little to call her own.

 "I'll sue you after, then."

 "Deal..." Aleksa's grin blossomed, "You can use the money for a Tailor to beautify those toes of yours."

 "You're awful."

 "I'm a gem."

 It was rather soothing to have that familiar back and forth of utter nonsense once more. Inej had cracked a smile, even if the edges crumpled when Nina drew close, beginning her healing process. It was enough, and while Aleksa tried so very hard to remain focused on her dear Wraith, she couldn't help but feel a stone-cold gaze digging into her cheek, as though someone had finally gotten tired of her cute little face and decided to drive an icicle through it.

 It was Kaz, obviously. Aleksa simply knew when it was his glorious eyes brushing across her features like a hearty rash. She hadn't said a word to him, and for Aleksa that was quite the odd occurrence. Kaz had likely expected to find a wink and some flirtatious comment to be directed at him, perhaps he'd even braced himself to be scolded by the only person that made him want to drop his head in shame.

 But she'd done neither. Her eyes hadn't even glanced his way.

 "Are we stuck here?" Nina asked, her eyes only momentarily leaving Inej's steadily healing soles as she looked to Kaz for an answer — even if she knew he'd jab at her with some sarcastic comment nobody cared to ask for.

 Eventually, the Elderclock ceased its ringing, and Aleksa could finally hear herself think. Her ears rang as though Jesper had sidled up to her and fired a shot right by her head — he'd done it before, and had only a laugh to offer as recompense after the fact.

 "What happened in the prison?" Wylan said, his voice cracked as though he was transported back to his eleven-year-old self, but all the crows could hear swamping such a shatter was panic. "What triggered the alarm?"

 "I ran into two guards," Nina muttered, a small divot between her brows as she focused intently, trying with all her might to cease the Wraith's pain.

 Jesper's eyes grew a fraction wider, warm brown swarmed in alarm, "You didn't put them down?"

 "I did. But one of them got off a few shots. Another guard came running. That was when the bells started."

 "Damn. So that's what set off the alarm?"

 "Maybe," said Nina, though Aleksa was entirely doubtful, "Where were you, Kaz? I wouldn't have been in the stairwell if I hadn't wasted time looking for you. Why didn't you meet me on the landing?"

 That was the moment Aleksa finally decided to rest her cerulean gaze upon their pale bastard. His dishevelment twisted Aleksa's stomach — he'd always kept himself clean, the perfect picture of a crisp and neat businessman, as he so liked to call himself.

 His hair would be swept back, a fine wave of glistening oil, as though ocean waves had been tainted — now it was slack and sodden, clinging to his forehead like dead vines. Where his pristine waistcoat would usually reside was nothing more than a prison uniform splattered with blood... Aleksa brought her gaze lower.

 His knuckles were split, each one of them covered in sticky wine-red blood.

 Kaz flicked his gaze away, somewhat unseeing eyes drawn to the glass dome, "I decided to search the cells on the fifth floor, too."

 "Of course you did." Aleksa hummed. But that honied lilt she often graced her crows with was sour now. Gone were all hints of sugar and sweetness, now nothing but rotten dribbles of bitterness remained.

 Jesper winced. He'd planned to open his mouth as his temper frayed like the edges of an old rag — his anger could be explosive, but Aleksa's was volatile. He'd been fortunate enough to avoid the stare of shame, the stare of utter disappointment for quite some time, but he could remember when it had twisted his gut. Jesper truly believed that the only person who could ever stare with such intensity was his father, Colm Fahey.

 Aleksa hiked her shoulders, hands gesturing before as though to say 'you have the damned floor, so take it'.

 So Kaz did, "There was something I needed to take care of." but his response only made his fellow Crows shake their heads — Matthias almost felt sorry for the Demjin when Aleksa took a step forth.

 He half expected her to drown them all in darkness, to change the sky from dawn to dusk... he wouldn't have put it past her capabilities.

 "You had something to take care of?" Aleksa echoed, her voice so full of mocking that Kaz thought he'd choke on it, "What about us? Your crew? The team that helped you get here? The people you left behind for what? Saint's, Kaz... all this talk of having a plan and you throw it out the window because you suddenly have something to do in a Fjerdan prison?"

 Kaz felt his jaw twitch, his fingers curling by his side. Her voice had only grown quite so harsh on such few occasions — when he'd threatened to leave Inej behind being one of them. But this... He knew Aleksa's loyalty and care for the crows ran deeper than her own blood. She looked to Jesper and Inej as a sibling would — she looked at them just as he'd once done with Jordie.

 He knew he was caught in a snare, no matter whether he spoke the truth of Pekka Rollins or kept it to himself, coddling it like a flame between his fingers... he'd receive an explosion far hotter and volatile than the ones their little Merchling could craft.

 "I had a hunch," Kaz said. "I followed it."

 There was a beat of silence — each of the crows wanted to yell and scream and wave their hands... but their eyes simply slid back to Aleksa, watching her cheeks grow pink, watching as her cerulean eyes darkened until winter storms brewed within them, threatening to swallow Kaz whole.

 Aleksa could feel her hands shaking — he had a hunch. A hunch he couldn't have shared with the rest of them? A fool's errand that could have led to the three Grisha being shackled and tossed to the side as slaves — and what would have happened to the others?

 But her eyes caught something just behind the boy; the familiar ghost built of pale skin, poking bones and quartz eyes. Aleksander was grinning, his smile so wide it pulled his thin and gaunt skin taut.

 It was infuriating.

 "I can't believe you, Brekker." Aleksa spat, positively seething.

 "I made a mistake," growled Kaz. "All right?"

 "No, it's not all right. You've put our lives and this stupid plan on the line for what? Go on. Tell us."

 After a moment, debating once more, Kaz said, "I went looking for Pekka Rollins."

 Aleksa still didn't know what Pekka could have possibly done to instil such rage within a boy — she'd accepted it before, when Kaz had fallen into pits of rage with Rollins' name on his tongue, when Kaz would take on jobs just to spite the man, but this was different.

 There was no relief on Kaz's face, for no victory had been secured. By the blood on his shirt and knuckles, he'd found Pekka... but Aleksa knew there was absolutely no chance that the merchant was dead. Kaz had made him a promise — brick by brick. He wouldn't have squandered his word just for a cheap shot.

 The words Aleksa wanted to speak weren't meant for the others' ears; she might not have gotten Kaz's confirmation, but her guesswork was scarcely wrong. So she took a step, and another until she was close enough to the bastard to make the others hold their breaths.

 "Why?" Was the only question Aleksa asked, a chance for him to either speak aloud and tell his crows, to quiet his voice and tell her alone... or perhaps he'd take the chance to lie.

 "I wanted to know who in the Dregs leaked information to him," Kaz said to them all, trying his damned hardest to ignore the soft brush of warm air drifting against his cheek.

 Aleksa rolled her eyes; a lie.

 "Better terrible truths, than kind lies, really?" She mocked, nodding her head as though she'd figured every inch of him out. She brought her finger near to his chest... and for once, she couldn't help herself.

 She jabbed it against him, "You're a liar." A whisper only he could hear, "You found him... and you let him go."

 She said it as though it was a fact, as though she'd read every word from Kaz's face; as though a script had been plastered against his cold flesh. Kaz had never been aware of any tells, any twitches or looks to the side that would give him away... yet Aleksa Morozova always seemed capable of finding them. It was like she drew close with a looking glass in hand, scouring every inch of his flesh. As though she'd become the most talented of Heartrenders capable of listening to his thudding heart and hitching breath.

 "You let him go," Aleksa continued, stepping where he'd previously stood, "After putting all of us in danger?"

 "I fucked up. I made a bad call, and I deserve the blame for it —"

 "You have the blame for it, Brekker... And you still can't even apologise?" She'd never heard him say the words before, as though two little words were more poisonous than a viper. 'I'm sorry' had never slipped from his tongue — Aleksa would find sweet-smelling perfumes and little paper bags filled with sugar-coated sweets... but never had she received the words as recompense. That wasn't going to happen this time.

 This wasn't Kaz saying something he shouldn't have. It wasn't his rage-fueling petty words that pulled at her heart — he'd put their lives on strings, pulling them like puppets, only to toss them aside for vengeance. Aleksa spared a glance behind her — poor Inej still massaging her feet, Nina who looked ready to topple over after working as a Healer, Jesper whose fingers twitched after expending what little powers he had, Wylan who hadn't wiped the look of terror from his face since they'd docked... even Matthias couldn't help but glance around them for danger.

 "Say it." Aleksa pushed, raising her chin ever higher, "Say you're sorry... or these are the last words you'll be hearing from me."

 He knew she meant it. He knew that Aleksa meant every word she spoke when her voice was lowered to such a level. The others strained to catch her words, yet neither quite managed to snag them. This was for Kaz and Kaz alone.

 His lips parted as she stared him right in the eyes, whiskey infiltrated by the clearest blue he'd ever seen, "I'm —"

 Then he swallowed — He'd have done it again if the time called for it. Pekka Rollins didn't deserve to rot in a Fjerdan cell, he didn't deserve to be sent to trial before a sea of ice-cold blonds. He deserved to think he was safe in his warm home. Pekka deserved to feel that lust for kruge as he ruined the lives of those around him... and then he deserved to watch his kingdom topple as Kaz Brekker sat on his throne.

 For Jordie. It was all for Jordie.

 "Hm." Aleksa hummed, a sliver of despondency managing to weasel through the haze of anger tightening her features, "I should have expected disappointment from you, shouldn't I?"

 "Aleksa —"

 But she moved away, nothing but a flurry of hair billowing behind her, almost whipping at Kaz's cheeks as she departed. She took to kneeling beside Inej, rather dutifully ignoring the pointed look Inej graced her with.

 Kaz felt his hand twitch, pale fingers almost reaching for her. That was something he simply couldn't stomach, and though something within his mind laughed at him... Kaz Brekker truly couldn't imagine the day when Aleksa wouldn't speak to him. Where her pink lips wouldn't curl as she teased him, hoping he'd go red.

 He couldn't stand watching her walk away.

 Nina was the first to clear the air and slice through the tension. She looked towards Matthias, "What's our situation? What will they do now?"

 "The alarm was Yellow Protocol, a sector disturbance."

 Jesper rubbed his boney fingers against his temples, trying to stave away the dull ache blossoming like an ugly flower, "I don't remember what that means."

 Matthias sighed, slowly unfolding the arms that had crossed over his chest. His breath came out as a pitiful puff of white, swiftly disappearing, "My guess is that they think someone's attempting a prison break. That sector is already sealed off from the rest of the Ice Court, so they'll authorise a search, probably try to figure out who's missing from the cells."

 "They'll find the people we knocked out in the women's and men's holding areas," said Wylan. "We need to get out of here. Forget Bo Yul- Bayur."

 Matthias cut a dismissive hand through the air. "It's too late. If the guards think there's a prison break in progress, the checkpoints will be on high alert. They're not going to let anyone just walk through."

 "We could still try," Jesper said; never one to give up on a heist without seeing it through to the bitter end... plus, this was the only way he was going to get the money his father needed, the money he needed to pay off the heft stack of depths he'd managed to garner, "We get Inej's feet patched up—"

 But Inej began to stand before they could so much as wonder if she was all right. Her slender fingers took the outstretched hand Aleksa offered, just in case she did feel as though hot coals were beneath her toes. She shifted her weight upon one leg, and then the other, relieved to find only the slightest twinge of pain — Nina was a better healer than she let on, "They feel all right. My calluses are gone, though."

 "I'll give you an address where you can mail your complaints," Nina said with a wink.

 Okay," Jesper breathed, wiping an already sodden sleeve across his forehead. The rain cast above had already faded to nothing more than a light mist dotting at their skin — but it was certainly favourable to the hot and swarthy air of the incinerator, "We find a cosy room to bash some partygoers on the head and waltz out of this place decked in their finest."

 "Past the embassy gate and two checkpoints?" Matthias said sceptically.

 "They don't know anyone escaped the prison sector. They saw Nina and Kaz so they know people are out of their cells, but the guards at the checkpoints are going to be looking for hoodlums in prison clothes, not sweet-smelling diplos in fancy dress. We have to do this before they get wise to the fact that seven people are on the loose in the outer circle."

 "Forget it," said Nina. "I came here to find Bo Yul-Bayur, and I'm not leaving without him."

 It was strange, even in the midst of their dismal situation Aleksa agreed with Nina. Kaz had taken their plan and crushed it in his hands like a sorry old ball of paper, but still, that adrenaline to keep going was swallowing her whole. She peered down, watching as her fingers rattled in her lap... she supposed she was more like Jesper than ever. Craving a hit, but rather than a dice or deck of cards, the thing that satiated the craving was sneaking and avoiding damned bullets.

 Wylan shook his head, copper curls spraying like haywire flames, "What's the point?"

 His worry was obscenely evident, still just a merchling in a murder of crows... but there was something about the way he looked towards the dome, where just below people of his standing perused without a second care... Aleksa could see it, there was a small part of him that wanted to continue onwards.

 But Wylan snuffed that little spark beneath his toes, "Even if you manage to get to the White Island and find Yul-Bayur, we'll have no way out. Jesper's right: We should go now while we still have a chance."

 Nina folded her arms. "If I have to cross to the White Island alone, I will."

 "That may not be an option," said Matthias as he jutted his chin towards the glass dome. "Look."

 Each of them gathered at its base; the rotunda below had a conglomeration of people milling about; they drank the off-coloured beverages in flutes, they stuffed their painted lips with foods Aleksa assumed were more native to Fjerda... they greeted each other with precarious smiles, each one far too wide to be considered natural. It was like watching a different species in their natural habitat.

 Aleksa had seen such things before, and after standing by Alina's side she had partaken in a few... But this was strange to her, to see people laughing and drinking and eating until they were almost too merry to see... all while prisoners rotted just a few floors below them.

 Aleksa watched through narrowed eyes as another group of new and fresh-faced guards plunge into the room; all merriment drew into silence as the guards made the crowd form into lines, "Are they adding a new checkpoint?" She asked Matthias.

 He nodded, "They're going to review everyone's identification again before they allow people access to the glass bridge."

 "Because of Yellow Protocol?"

 "Probably. A precaution."

 "Great." Aleksa sighed, lightly resting her rain-slick forehead against the palm of her hand. Their last bit of luck — if any at all had actually remained — was drained like champagne from a flute.

 "Then that decides it," Jesper said, fining his hands high as he backed away from the sorry sight within the dome, "We cut our losses and try to get out now."

 A hand curled around Aleksa's wrist; Inej. The Suli girl had that same glint of determination Aleksa knew was glistening within her own eyes — they both wanted to go on, they needed to. Inej had let herself swallow the flavour of freedom, she'd let her mind wander to the images of a ship on the waves, a Suli girl on the helm as she hunted slavers and made for her family...

 Aleksa would always pride herself on being capable of picking up the slightest gestures and looks from her dear Wraith — Inej's dark eyes drew themselves towards a group that had just entered the rotunda from the gatehouse courtyard; they were smothered in a layer of mist, shaking out ringlets of sodden hair and soaked silk. They were the girls from the House of the Blue Iris; easily identifiable by the deep sapphire colours of their gowns and the flowers pinned within their hair.

 Aleksa drew a breath — the girls could enter with the West Stave delegations... with The Menagerie. The Shadow nodded her head, "Are you sure?" Never one to decide for the Wraith, but rather join her in shared misery.

 "I'm sure."

 "Then I'm with you."

 Inej smiled, she'd expected nothing less — hell she was sure that their dearest Shadow would follow her across the seas if she asked. So much loyalty resided in someone who only knew betrayal, it was strange but Inej understood. Without family around... you had to make your own, the crows had simply been fortunate enough that she'd chosen them.

 Jesper's brows curled together, watching the girls conspire was nothing new. He could recall countless times in which he and Kaz had been somewhat stumped as to how to overcome a particular obstacle surrounding a heist... only to look over and find matching smiles on the two who could slither in the dark. They were as thick as... well, thieves, "What are you two going on about?"

 "We have a way in," Inej said quietly, though she found her voice steady, strong. She was the Wraith, Inej reminded herself, and she had the Shadow right by her side, "We can get through that checkpoint and onto the White Island." She pointed below at the group swamped in sapphire blue. The men of the Anvil had joined them now, extensive tattoos proudly on display, each one taut over hair-laden arms still bare despite the chill in the Fjerdan air, "The West Stave delegations have started to arrive. We can get in."

 "Inej, Nina and I... we can get inside," Aleksa confirmed, watching as unease rippled through the rest of their crew. 

 Aleksa would find it easy enough; swamping herself with silks with no past to tie them to. She could fasten bells to her ankles without flashes of horrific nights and vile men. She would because she had to, she'd draw her silver tongue like a snake waiting to strike — for the plan, for the kruge, for Inej... and some stupid part of her still whispered, for Kaz.

 Aleksa took the moment to savour the frozen air chilling every inch of skin — soon it would be the clatter of silver spoons and the laughter of the righteous. This was the last break they'd have, their last little speck of freedom, Aleksa just knew it... She turned toward her mismatched crew, her voice directed to all, even Kaz, "We'll enter with The Menagerie."

━━━━━━━

DATE: 08-02-2025

:･ﾟ★ mum and dad are fighting again smh

NAUR? SIXTY WHOLE CHAPTERS? THAT IS INSANE. this is my longest fic to date so far... slay <3 also someone pls stop me from writing 7k chapters; this is TIRING!

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