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...
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IN THE WINTERS, Ketterdam became near inhospitable.
Water would streak in through every edge of a building, leaving the walls damp, sewer smelling and incredibly cold. Insects would slither into the corners, turning the dry pieces of plaster into a new home. The air was swarming with sweat, insect piss, and horrible smells trekking in through open windows and doors.
Natasha wrinkled her nose, pressing a folded square of muslin cloth across her face.
Despite Kaz's refurbishments, the roof had tilted inwards from the weight of the snow. It looked as if someone had knocked a punch into The Slat's side, creating a crater.
A lonely feeling stirred in her stomach - as she walked past the broken building and towards the warehouse district. It had been two days since she left, and each time she couldn't help but trail past, seeing if she could sense Jesper's loud laugh, Nina's warm smile or even Alessia's little pep talks.
Over the roaring winds, she couldn't hear a word; as Slat custom, the windows had been boarded for the winter, not a single sound trickling out.
Kaz Brekker had also covered his tracks since the last time she had broken in. He had changed the bolt on his window to a newer design. One Natasha couldn't wrap her head around.
She had sat perched on his windowsill like a rooster, snarling curses into the wind and dropping broken pins onto the ground below with frustrated sighs.
It seemed that the team had gone into hibernation. No one but a few bouncers passed through The Slat's doors anymore, and word spread that Kaz barely monitored the crow clubs games anymore.
She rolled her eyes, feeling the snow prick at her eyelids. The weather was beating down on Ketterdam like an ice fist - knocking the wind out of her chest and freezing her blood from the inside out.
Natasha drew her shawl tighter around her, scowling up at the blue sky. The blades on her skin seemed to poke harder with the feel of failure.
Once Van Eck had heard she had been kicked off Brekker's team, he had withdrawn his offer, not sparing her a single note of kruge for her troubles.
Nevertheless, she had found herself a cosy home buried in the crooks of Ketterdam's warehouse district. Through a maze of packing crates - their metals stained with squashed Jurda and bullet holes. A small neighbourhood sat hidden.
The house was small but damp-free - the rent coming incredibly cheap. The villagers didn't ask questions and welcomed her graciously into their midst.
Natasha helped lead prayers in the little stone church, teaching them Ravkan and Zemeni chants and educating the children with picture books of the saints.
