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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THE SUNSET WAS SOMETHING NATASHA THOUGHT SHE COULD EVER GET TIRED OF. The way colours would bleed across the horizon, like ink in water.
A golden sun would peak through mountain tops, draped in pastels of red, orange and pink. It was a sight to marvel in each morning, a hopeless smile on Natasha's lips.
Alessia had bought her a shawl,wrapping it around her shoulders. The pair had stayed awake all night, simply enjoying one another company. In the end, Alessia had gone off to sleep, the wind too cold to bear. But Natasha stayed a warm cup of coffee between her knees.
Rotty was back behind the wheel, a little colour drained back into his features. He'd wave each time Natasha would pass, much to the annoyance of Kaz.
Natasha didn't seem to realise the furrow in Kaz's brow when Rotty and her spoke, or the thin purse of his lips when then shared hugs.
Kaz always seemed to be around when it was just Rotty and Natasha alone. He'd stay by the stern with his backs to both of them, reeling over maps and cups of coffee.
His mood grew tenser by the day, for reasons Alessia called lack of sugar. With no cream or twists of sugar available on the boat, Kaz drunk a steaming pitcher of black coffee every morning - that seemed to do no good, not even to himself.
His movements were twitchy, his dark eyes scuttling around like an awkward bug.
"Natty," Alessia called. Natasha turned to face her, the creamy glow of the sunset splaying across her Zemeni skin. Alessia's hair was crumpled as if she had rolled out of someone's bed, her clothes a tangle - coming to rest atop her stomach.
Natasha ran a hand through her thick curls, patting the small alcove on the deck. Rotty was watching them, making a horrible job of pretending he wasn't. "How come you're always awake?" Alessia laughed. She snatched the coffee from Natasha's hand, the dark liquid scorching her upper lip.
"Can't sleep," Natasha mumbled. She was scared to sleep, to close her eyes. She didn't want to see that man's face as he tipped into the oceans, the decoy Ferolind erupting in flames. She didn't want to see the scowl of Zoya or the smirk of Nikolai. It was all too painful.
"You haven't slept in a week, I'm only so good as a Grisha," Alessia cupped Natasha's face in her palms, running her thumbs along the hollows beneath Natasha's eyes. The dark blemishes disappeared immediately, smooth skin appearing in its place.
"I owe you one," Natasha sighed, resting her head against Alessia's shoulders. "You fixed my legs, ignoring the fact you bruised my ribs," A deep blush formed across Alessia's cheeks, her rosy lips fixed into an apologetic smirk.
"It was a mistake," she whined, shoving Natasha's shoulders. The pair giggled, their laughter spreading across the deck like the sweet scent of fresh bread. They passed coffee and cigarettes between one another, their arms tangled around each other's shoulders.
