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...
" Sometimes, the damsel isn't the only one in fucking distress, "
- K.B
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"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE TREE?"
"Cut it," Kaz shrugged. He was contemplating the cane between his hands, shredded between anxiety and loathing. Natasha and Nina still hadn't arrived, their lack of appearance bearing a dense web of gluey silence over them all.
Wylen didn't argue - Inej and Alessia prayed. Even Jesper knew best to shut up. "The tree is to buy us time," Inej explained, counting her knives. Her brown suli eyes rained with a variable fog - a crackle of excitement listed behind wide lids. "Fifteen minutes at most,"
As Jesper hoisted the flare, Nina and Natasha came rushing through the undergrowth. They had both changed into the flannels Kaz had provided, the flimsy material lashing in the wind. "Where were you?" Alessia complained.
"Not now," Kaz retorted in a fizzing hiss. He pushed Natasha back with his cane as a prison cart came growling through the dirt path. They all watched with observant eyes as it levelled to a halt before the thick tree bark.
A chain of curses flew through the open window before two fat-bellied coachmen squirmed out from the top box. They gawked at the tree indolently, one of them picking at a spot behind their ear.
"What do we do?" one of them grunted, poking at a branch with a pudgy toe.
"I dunno," The other answered. The first guard turned with a sigh - returning with a massive twist of white rope.
Kaz's hand curved around Natasha's sleeve, eyes reserved and intense. "Change of plan," he murmured with a tilt of his head. He dropped his cane into the ditch, applying some of his weight onto Natasha's side.
His limp was unbearable on the ice, and his leg hadn't recovered. Natasha glanced up at his jaw with disoriented eyes. "This isn't what we discussed. You were supposed to do this alone,"
Kaz rolled his eyes, dropping a pair of lockpicks into her palm. "Sometimes, the damsel isn't the only one in fucking distress," He cringed, pressing a hand on the back of his knee. Natasha breathed, imitating Kaz as he cradled the steel lockpick.
In a matter of seconds, both bolts had shimmied free. "What's the signal?" Natasha asked. Kaz left no response. Dark eyes flittered across the room, a shudder stinging down his spine. Kaz Brekker arrested in place, his lips a snarl of horror. "Kaz," She hissed, nudging his shoulder. He flinched dreadfully. Natasha recoiled.
She looked over his shoulder at the hooded prisoners. Velvet sacks shrugged across their neck and shoulders, iron collars branded to the ceiling. They all stood, wriggling and shuffling against each other like caged animals. They were caged animals.
Natasha gave Kaz another swift shove, his breath calming into irregular pants. He glanced over his shoulder, blush draining back into his face. She touched her forehead against his shoulder with closed eyes before he struggled onto his feet.
