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...
" God forbid you ever place your life in the hands of a boy "
- B.M
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"Where are you from, girl?" Baghara eyed Natasha through speckled vision, low flames flickering in snubbed candle wicks. Her cave was dim-lit, two chairs centred beneath a starry canopy. Natasha balanced an apple on her fingertips, ignoring Baghara.
A smart rap on the knuckles was enough to get her talking. She snarled behind the upturned collars of her black kefta, resting the apple on the armrest. "Not from here," Natasha responded. Baghara's lips twisted.
"Where are you from, girl?"
"I told you," She flipped the apple between her fingertips, catching it deftly in her palm.
Baghara watched intently but not amused. Natasha settled with a sigh, tilting back in her chair.
"Fine," she huffed. "My ma's from Noyvi Zem, my da's Ravkan,"
"Zemeni's and Ravkans don't say da and ma," Baghara narrowed her eyes into thin black slits.
"You were raised in Kerch?" She eyed Natasha with distant loathing, hitting her knuckles with the rubber end of her cane.
"Yes," Natasha scowled, pulling her arm away. "Ketterdam,"
Baghara hummed beneath her breath, stoking the fire with a jab of an iron poker. "What is Ketterdam like?" The old woman leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hands were a map of prominent veins and dotted with black liver spots.
"Money, trade and thieves," Natasha answered.
Tension hung in the air like foreboding weather. "Why would you leave?" Baghara pushed Natasha onto her feet by the elbow. Natasha smoothed down the front of her embroidered kefta, inspecting the stitching on its collar. You left your da, and ma," Her voice hung heavy on the final word.
"Better opportunity," Natasha shrugged. She summoned the shadows with an elegant curl of her fingers. Baghara nodded approvingly. "Better food, better wine," Natasha smirked before finishing. "Much better boys,"
"You are here to train," Baghara poked her cane into Natasha's side. "Food and wine won't save. God forbid you ever place your life in the hands of a boy," She tilted Natasha's arm - holding them rigidly.
"You will fight for your place in the world, and you will fight for a very long time," They held eye contact for several painful moments. Shadows licked out from Natasha's palms, snubbing the candlelight. She could still discern the sinister glint of silver crackling Baghara's eyes.
"Now go, Ketterdam's girl," Baghara finished, shoving Natasha out of her hut.
___
Kaz jerked with a sharp thrust in his thigh. The darkness coddled close to him, burning into his skin. The boy winced through gritted teeth, unable to move between the compress of limps encircling him.
"Kaz," Natasha's voice was barely above a whisper. Kaz groaned. Another hand punched his thigh. "Kaz," He felt her palm twitch against his sleeve. A cool breath fluttered through his chest. He rolled his arms lazily in the chains, fingertips feeling, along with the cool metal. He measured his breathing, focusing on the shivering figure of Natasha beside him.
"Keep talking," He rasped. Kaz fumbled in the darkness, twisting a gloved palm tightly around Natasha's hand. He could feel her moonlit gaze burning his cheek. Kaz looked away sharply. "Keep talking," He repeated, squeezing her arm. "Please,"
"We're passing through the prison gates," her voice was sweeter than any fruit. "We've made it past two checkpoints," Kaz straightened, chains pulling painfully at his wrists. Twice he had been man-handled, touched. He'd slept through it all.
"Don't worry," Natasha whispered, "They didn't touch you," He sunk in relief. He was grateful for the murmurs of voices covering their conversation. Alessia and Inej mumbled in Ravkan, Nina adding to their conversation in heated Shu.
Jesper had Wylen tucked to his side, whispering into his hair through the veil of his sack. Assumingly, Natasha had wriggled part of her sack off. "It's gone smoothly," She whispered, nudging closer to Kaz's side. "You can relax,"
Only then did he realise the stiff bulge of his chest. Kaz blew out a shaky exhale, blinking only to be met by unmovable darkness. "I can loosen your locks," Natasha offered. Kaz could hear the familiar click of the silver picks in her palm.
"Don't bother," Kaz mumbled. He rolled back his shoulder, feeling her gaze track his head. Natasha clicked her tongue in response, wiggling her sack across her eyes once more. Her hip nudged into Kaz's side, he winced.
"Sorry," She whispered, unlacing her fingers from his. His hand felt cold and empty, space unfillable by anyone, but Natasha. Kaz curled his hand into a fist, allowing the darkness to swallow his vision.
The wagon shuddered to her halt, bodies thrown against them both. Natasha was the only one to hear Kaz's cry of disgust. The bolt slid back, the screws creaking dangerously. Natasha pressed her heel against the corner, for good measure, as the door swung open with the force of a battering ram.
Druskelle exchanged Frejdan banter, their loughs gruff and heavy like the shrieks of a goat. Natasha shrunk back as a calloused hand circled her throat, unclasping the collar from around her neck. "Bones," The soldier laughed, poking Natasha's collar bones.
She tensed beneath his touch, keeping her lips sealed. The soldier stuck to her side, jutting the heel of his palm into her back. A gate swung open. She could hear the footsteps of the others echoing in front of her.
Natasha squinted as the hood yanked from her head. They stood in a courtyard encircled by glossed marble. The rock gave the imitation ice, sparkling like diamonds in the frosted sunlight.
"Pretty bones," The solider smirked, licking his tongue over his lip. Natasha stiffed a look of horror, keeping her gaze as stiff and helpless as possible. "You not like?" The man asked in broken Kerch.
A heavy arm slid across her stomach, pulling her close to his side. The other Frejdans laughed, watching the boy push her around like a doll. "No," Natasha's voice was raw and scared. The shudder in her breathe was unmistakable.
"Tig," The soldier snorted. He tickled the nape of her neck with dirtied fingers, relishing the horrified flush of her cheeks. "What pretty girl doing here?" He crooned. The man pressed a finger to her lips, removing Natasha from the line.
Kaz's jaw tightened. The others watched in horror. "We'll deal with her separate,"
Natasha cast a pleading look at Kaz. He turned away. He couldn't save her, not without giving himself away. Nina watched the affair through frosted green eyes - Zenic's eyes shadowed with pity.
"She'll be fine," Inej crept silently behind Kaz. "She's Natasha. She always has a way," She smiled weakly, watching with sorrowful eyes as Natasha was, dragged away. Alessia bit into her arm to stifle screams.
"I know she'll be fine," Kaz said coldly, too pained to look back.
