Natasha Van Doren is a shadow summoner. She bides her time and resides in darkness, feared and esteemed by Ketterdam's civilians, a ghost . She cons Kaz Brekker into joining a heist he can't refuse and with thirty million kruge on the line, the crow...
" Anger makes you stupid... And stupid gets you killed. "
- A.I & N.V.D
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THE SLAT WAS ASLEEP, the roof snored underneath a blanket of darkness, the pipes rattling softly against the walls. Men and women still loitered in the streets, cloaks drawn and veils shadowing their features.
The hour of thieves.
So it only made sense Kaz Brekker was awake.
He sat behind his desk, the stacks of paper in front of him no smaller than it was two days ago. He couldn't bring himself to calculate numbers or conclude business down by the fifth harbour. So he just sat there, watching the hour's tick past.
He had turned everyone away. Jesper, Nina, even Wylen had attempted to talk to Kaz. He knew Inej would find a way to crawl into his office, but she never came. She'd leave buns and warm mugs of coffee on his windowsill, but stopped once she realised he never touched the food.
All Kaz Brekker wanted was to be alone.
And anyone in good sense did just that.
"Brekker!"
Kaz dropped the pen he was bouncing on his knee, staring hard at the closed door. Maybe if I stare hard enough she'll go away, he thought. But Alessia Ivanov's voice only grew louder.
"I'm not excepting visitors,"
"And I'm not coming back later," she retorted. Kaz had only known Alessia for two days, but he knew her screwed up, annoyed expression from behind the door. Some part of him liked her, her fierceness, brutal honesty, and humour.
"Brekker, I swear to god, I will break the door down,"
"Do that and I will break your bones,"
He watched the door, silently swing open, a thin metal wire clasped between her fingers. "You're not the only one, who can pick locks," she grinned. Alessia didn't ask for an invitation as she wheeled herself into the room, soaking in the state of his office.
His desk was two upturned crates, covered in scribbles, calculations and coded words, that didn't make sense. Maps of the ice court were thumb tacked across his walls, Wylen's drawings pinned messily across a rolling board. Little sticky notes were placed all over the walls, labelling entries, guard numbers and all sorts of thing Alessia couldn't even understand.
"Someone's been busy," she said, tracing her fingers across the dotted lines. She had to admit, Wylen was an excellent drawer, he had even drawn angry little faces on the guards surrounding the perimeter.
"I've got 30 million kruge on the line," Kaz said bluntly. "I need to busy or we'll all die in there,"
