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˚ ₊ ♡ ❰  DEADLY GHOSTS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ SAINTS WHO FORSAKE YOU! ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT ONE ── no mourners 🪶 ⁺⑅

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SIX OF CROWS ⋆ 🪦.
♯ ❝ NEVER AGAIN ❞
CHAPTER SIX ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ book one ─── age 17
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THEY WERE JINXED, THERE WAS NOT OTHER WAY TO EXPLAIN THE EVENTS OF THE LAST COUPLE OF HOURS. MIRIAM HAD NEVER SEEN SUCH A SHIT SHOW, HARBOR BLOWN TO PIECES, ship blown to pieces, soot covering her cheeks, hair singed and embers flying around the remains of what used to be the schooner. Willem, who had been annoyingly stuck to her side since they departed from the Slack looked uncharacteristically pristine for someone who had just been in a shootout. The only thing that even remotely hinted at the previous battle was his tousled hair and even that didn't look as bad.

The adrenaline still simmered through her body like a wildfire raging through her veins, and there was a subtle shake in her hands she cursed the saints for. But the familiarity of a ship was a little comfort she appreciated greatly, until Inej was dragged in—a bloody mess, both figuratively and literally as she left a trail of crimson on the weathered wooden floor.

She had immediately sprung to her feet, pushing past the others as chaos ensued. People on the deck were shouting, rushing around one another to get the schooner into open sea as quickly as possible.

"Specht!" Kaz voice rang out like a bullet slipping from a gun, cutting through the loud chatter, "get your crew in shape before I start cracking skulls!"

Miriam barely caught Specht saluting in reply before she was flanking Kaz' side, brows furrowing together in worry at the sight of Inej limp in his arms. Jesper was quick to follow, offering to relief him from carrying Inej, but he just pushed past him like a man on a mission.

Knowing the question before the words could even leave Kaz's mouth, Miriam ran ahead and opened the door leading below deck, "Nina is this way." She shouted, before spinning on her feet and hurling herself down the stairs two steps at the time. "Nina!"

The Heartrender looked up at the sound of her name, noting the desperate twain in Miriam's voice as she came barrelling through the door. Nina didn't have a moment to spare and ask questions when Kaz crashed through the door with Inej in his arms.

"Move," Kaz demanded, and Wylan practically leaped from the table and Miriam barely managed to catch the fumbling boy in her arms as Kaz barged past them.

"I'm not finished—" began Nina. Then she caught sight of Inej. "Saints," she swore. "What happened?"

"Knife wound." The cramped cabin was lit by several bright lanterns and a stash of clean bandages had been laid out on a shelf beside a bottle of camphor.

Gently—and so unlike himself, Kaz placed Inej on the table that had been bolted to the deck.

"That's a lot of blood," Nina said on a low breath.

"Help her."

"Kaz, I'm a Heartrender, not a real Healer."

Miriam bit the inside of her cheek as she surveyed the group, from Inej laboured breaths to Kaz nervous inhales and poor Wylan was still clutching her shirt like a lifeline as his gaze was fixated on Inej.

"She'll be dead by the time we find one. Get to work."

Nina blinked, eyes flickering from Kaz, to Miriam and back to Inej with a newfound determination

"You're in my light."

Kaz stepped back into the passageway.

Inej lay perfectly still on the table, her luminous brown skin dull in the swaying lamplight.

"Unless you can be useful, go away," Nina said without looking up at him. "You're making me nervous."

Gently Miriam pried Wylan's finger from her shirt and nudged him towards the stairs. "Everything is going to be fine Merchling." She promised under her breath, casting one last gaze at Kaz as he hesitated to leave the cabin. "A meek little knife can't take down our Wraith." She spoke louder this time, catching Kaz's gaze.

Her expression remained blank as the boy pushed past them to stomp up the stairs.

When they reached the deck, Miriam parted from Wylan and moved to approach Jesper as they gazed at Ketterdam fading into the horizon. A bittersweet feeling seeped through he bones at the sight. Sailing away from the only home she had ever known.

"What the hell just happened?" Jesper asked. He was leaning against the railing, his rifle beside him. hair dishevelled, pupils dilated. He seemed almost drunk, or like he'd just rolled out of someone's bed. He always had that look after a fight.

Helvar was bent over the railing, vomiting and Miriam took a step further away from the tall Fjerdan in disgust. Not a sailor, clearly. At some point they'd need to shackle his legs again.

"We were ambushed," Wylan said from his perch on the forecastle deck. He had his sleeve pushed up and was running his fingers over the red spot where Nina had seen to his wound.

Jesper shot Wylan a withering glare. "Private tutors from the university, and that's what this kid comes up with? 'We were ambushed'?"

Wylan reddened and Miriam chuckled at his flustered state "Stop calling me kid. We're practically the same age."

"I thought you were like twelve." Willem appeared from the shadows of the deck, like a haunting apparition from a graveyard, his raven fatefully perched on the railing above him.

"I'm not twelve!" The boy scoffed and Miriam ruffled his hair. "Sure kid."

"Stop calling me kid!" He repeated again, voice raising an octave at the deadly glare Miriam was sending and he scooted further away from the bronze skinned girl.

"You're not going to like the other names we come up with for you." Jesper jested, eyes rolling, "I know we were ambushed. That doesn't explain how they knew we would be there. Maybe Big Bolliger wasn't the only Black Tip spy in the Dregs."

Miriam frowned.

"Geels doesn't have the brains or the resources to bite back this fast or this hard alone," Kaz said was suddenly with them, a new clean shirt had replaced his bloodstained one, and Miriam noted his limp was worse than normal.

"You sure? Because it felt like a pretty big bite."

"Let's ask." Kaz limped over to where Rotty had helped him stash Oomen.

A grin spread on Miriam's face at the sight of Helvar and Jesper dragging Oomen over the rail, hands bound tightly.

Helvar had no quells with hauling the giggling man to his feet with one hand, and Oomen grinned, his thatch of coarse white hair flat against his wide forehead. "Why don't you tell me what brought so many Black Tips out in force tonight?" Kaz inquired.

"We owed you."

"A public brawl with guns out and thirty men packing? I don't think so."

Oomen snickered like a gleeful child. "Geels doesn't like being bested."

"I could fit Geels' brains in the toe of my boot, and Big Bolliger was his only source inside the Dregs."

"Maybe he—" Kaz interrupted him. "I want you to think real careful now, Oomen. Geels probably thinks you're dead, so there are no rules of barter here. I can do what I want with you."

Oomen spat in his face and like a flash of lightning, Miriam's knife was pressed under Oomen's throat, the sharp tip digging in his skin and drawing blood.

Kaz casually took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and carefully wiped his face clean.

"Hold him," he told Jesper and the Fjerdan and Miriam pouted when Kaz send her a look. But she understood. This was his vengeance that needed to be sated, however much Miriam would have liked to peel the skin from his bones for the damage he had done to Inej. Twirling her knife away from his throat, she nicked his cheek. "Whoops."

She took a couple steps back and leaned back against the railing with a wicked grin on her face.

Kaz flicked his coat sleeve, and an oyster shucking knife appeared in his hand – a tidy, wicked little blade. He made a neat slash across Oomen's eye – from brow to cheekbone – and before Oomen could draw breath to cry out, he made a second cut in the opposite direction, a nearly perfect X.

Now Oomen was screaming, it roared over the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean.

Kaz wiped the knife clean, returned it to his sleeve, and drove his gloved fingers into Oomen's eye socket. He shrieked and twitched as Kaz yanked out his eyeball, its base trailing a bloody root. Blood gushed over his face.

From beside her, Wylan threw his head over the side of the schooner, whatever breakfast the boy had had, now in the ocean.

He tossed the eyeball over his shoulder and like second instinct, Miriam caught it in her cold hand, she looked it over as she held up to her own eye, paying no mind to Wylan who was still retching beside her. Her gaze caught Willem who looked at her with dark brown eyes, watching her every move. "A snack for you pet?" She offered and threw the eyeball in the air.

The raven swooped down, as if understanding her words and grabbed it before it could fall into the ocean.

She grinned as Willem nodded, and Miriam turned back to look at Kaz as he jammed his spit-soaked handkerchief into the socket where Oomen's eye had been. Then he grabbed Oomen's jaw, his gloves leaving red smears on the enforcer's chin. His actions were smooth, precise, as if he were dealing cards at the Crow Club or picking an easy lock, but his rage felt hot and mad and unfamiliar.

Miriam stood with her hands clasped, unsure what Kaz would do. Something within him had torn loose.

"Listen to me," he hissed, his face inches from Oomen's. "You have two choices. You tell me what I want to know, and we drop you at our next port with your pockets full of enough coin to get you sewn up and buy you passage back to Kerch. Or I take the other eye, and I repeat this conversation with a blind man."

"It was just a job," babbled Oomen child-like glee replaced by utter terror. "Geels got five thousand kruge to bring the Black Tips out in force. We pulled in some Razorgulls, too."

"Then why not more men? Why not double your odds?" Miriam called out, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You were supposed to be on the boat when it blew! We were just supposed to take care of the stragglers." Oomen faced Kaz in desperation.

"Who hired you?" Oomen wavered, sucking on his lip, snot running from his nose. "Don't make me ask again, Oomen," Kaz said quietly. "Whoever it was can't protect you now."

"He'll kill me."

"And I'll make you wish for death, so you have to weigh those options."

"Pekka Rollins," Oomen sobbed. "It was Pekka Rollins!"

Shock ran through her body, and her body tensed.

"Saints," groaned Jesper. "We are so screwed."

Miriam nudged him to shut his mouth.

"Is Rollins leading the crew himself?" Kaz asked Oomen almost eerily calm.

"What crew?"

"To Fjerda." He continued with faux stillness

"I don't know about no crew. We were just supposed to stop you from getting out of the harbour."

"I see." He smiled, but it looked haunting on his face and Miriam felt her blood run cold at the sight of Dirtyhands at his best.

"I need a medik. Can you take me to a medik now?" Oomen begged.

"Of course," said Kaz. "Right this way." He took Oomen by the lapels and placed him in front of Miriam. She wriggled her fingers in a mocking wave.

"But—but, she's not—"

"Any hope for him?" Kaz tilted his head sideways, cutting Oomen off.

Miriam rubbed her chin, observing him with those devilish eyes of hers. "I think he's past redemption Mr. Brekker." She shrugged casually.

"Pity."

Without a second thought, Kaz hoisted him off his feet, bracing his body against the railing.

"I told you what you wanted!" Oomen screamed, struggling. "I did what you asked!"

Kaz leaned in so that no one else could hear it when he said, and Miriam averted her eyes to look at Willem and without another word spoken, he tipped Oomen into the sea.

"No!" Wylan shouted, leaning over the railing, his face pale, stunned eyes tracking Oomen in the waves. The enforcer's pleas were still audible as his maimed face faded from view.

"You ... you said if he helped you—" the boy stammered, eyes blown wide in fear.

"Do you want to go over, too?" asked Kaz.

Wylan took a deep breath as if sucking in courage and sputtered, "You won't throw me overboard. You need me."

Miriam inwardly cringed

"Maybe," said Kaz, voice low and Miriam felt the urge to step away from the blood covered boy. "But I'm not in a very rational mood."

Jesper set his hand on Wylan's shoulder. "Let it go."

"It's not right—"

"Wylan," Jesper said, giving him a little shake. "Maybe your tutors didn't cover this lesson, but you do not argue with a man covered in blood and a knife up his sleeve."

Wylan pressed his lips into a thin line.

Kaz turned to Jesper. "Fit Helvar with some shackles to keep him honest," he said as he headed below. "And get me clean clothes and fresh water."

"Since when am I your valet?"

"Man with a knife, remember?" he said over his shoulder.

"Man with a gun!" Jesper called after him.

Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger and disappeared belowdecks.

⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

HER LEGS DANGLE FROM THE RALING, FEETING SWING BACK AND FORWARD IN A SLOW RYTHIM AS SHE LOOKED UP AHEAD AT THE VAST OPEN OCEAN IN FRONT OF HER, the sun is slowly sinking beneath the waves, casting an orange glow on the water. For a moment, if she closed her eyes it was like she was ten again, bundled up in too-large clothes and clutching her brother's hand as they travelled away from their homeland. Scared little children they were then, cowering at the sight of violence and crying at the raised voices directed at them.

"Everything will be better," The man had promised, fox-smile and kind eyes.

She had believed him, trusted that he knew what he was doing. Trusting that whatever awaited them in Ketterdam would be better than the endless chase that was promised to them in the country they left behind.

Poor luck. It was written in the stars the moment they opened their eyes, matching cries, matching eyes—a matching fate. Interwoven and unstoppable. Miriam had always believed that whatever destiny was written for them, she would have done it with her twin brother. But that was not what was meant to happen. Because she was breathing and he was rotting in the ground.

Miriam had never cowered before someone again. "Never again." She had whispered that promise, to no one but the saints in the skies that had forsaken her.

Instinctively her hand reached for her dagger, but her hand grabbed air. Leather scabbard the only reminder of its existence. Her hands bawl in a fist, eyes screwed tightly shut. It belonged to Willem now. Cunning, arrogant and immensely invasive Willem Hoff.

Willem Hoff who had once been her brother's friend, had been her friend.

Vengeance will be mine, she has to remind herself, a sacrifice needed to be made. She pictures his beady eyes, dark as obsidian, crooked teeth grinning victoriously. "The things I could do to you."

Fathom fingers trail down her cheek and she has to shake her head to supress the shivers that threaten to run down her spine. The things I will do to you. It echoes in her brain, like venom spreading and cruelly twisting her heartstrings.

Nails cut into the rough skin of her palms.

Fluttering wings break her from her thoughts.

Tilting her head sideways, she watched as the raven perched itself on a crate next to her. White milky eyes bearing right into her dark ones as it crowed, dark feathers gleaming in the last rays of sunlight. The sound of boots stomping down creaking stairs follows and Miriam watches as the raven's eyes turn back to normal just as Willem appears from the top of the stairs.

His grin is wide as he regarded her, hands clasped behind his back and her eyes immediately settle on his hip, where her dagger, no—his dagger is strapped to his belt.

He noticed her gaze and pushes his tailored coat to cover the shining metal. Her eyes flicker back up to him again and her fingers itch to punch that smug look from his face.

"Miriam darling." He crooned, "have you missed me?"

She does not respond to him, instead she pulls her knees up to her chest, eying the horizon in bitterness.

"I have missed you." He whispered and Miriam can feel the heat radiating of his body as he stood behind her. His fingers curl around her shoulders, thumbs pushing circles in her skin. For a moment the feeling is familiar, a comfort from long before and she sighed, tension leaving her muscles.

But then she remembered, the betrayals, the pain and she roughly pushes his hands from her. Willem does not protest and he took a step back. There is something akin to guilt in his eyes as their gazes meet again.

It was easier to pretend nothing was wrong when they were surrounded by people, easy to slip into a façade she had carefully crafted during her years in Ketterdam, but now alone, she can feel it crack.

I will not cower.

She reprimanded herself silently and her eyes, full of emotion slip into narrowed slit of fiery steel.

"I will never miss you Willem Hoff." She spit out.

"Then why did you come to me for help." He leant back against the railing, dark eyes surveying her carefully, but Miriam gave away nothing. Like a blank canvas, Miriam stands, golden light illuminating from behind her and Willem curses himself for the way his heart stuttered at the sight.

"A means to an end." Is her curt reply.

"I know you don't truly mean that Miriam." Willem shrugged, "You forget how well I know you."

Her body tensed again, and she scoffed, "You know nothing Willem Hoff." She stands up, rage in her eyes, and pointed her finger at him. "And I will never forgive you."

"You know I never meant for that to happen." There's almost something akin to pleading in his voice as he look up at her, breathing heavily, glazed eyes.

"But it did." She croaked out, "and my brother is never coming back again."

"Come on Miriam, we'll be back before you know it." Nico Dara oozed self-assurance as he stood in the shadows of their West Stave home. A crooked little building with ugly flower wallpaper and unexplainable yellow stains. It always smelled horribly, and the third wooden step always creaked loudly enough to wake up the dead if you stepped on it. One of the windows was broken, always carrying inside the cold and smoke that had settled over Ketterdam like a cruel mist.

Miriam was smaller at twelve years old, posture slouched and reserved. Big eyes still wide and hopeful. "But why do we need to go?" she questioned with her arms crossed. "It's not like we need the money right now."

"Because it's fun."

She swirled around like lightning, eyeing her brother's friend. Willem Hoff grinned widely, holding a couple of tattered parchments under his arm before making his way to the table in the house they called their home. Pushing aside all the knickknacks gathered he spread out one of the parchments.

Despite her earlier words, Miriam could not contain the curiosity that sparked in her body and wordlessly she went to stand next to her twin brother, pressed shoulder to shoulder, matching grins on their faces.

Willem chuckled knowingly.

"I spotted a new Van Kappel painting being brought into a house in the Zelver district." He crooned devilishly. "I've been following them around, and it so happens that tonight, dear Mr. Smit and his beautiful wife will not be home."

Miriam frowned "Zelver street? Those places are pretty protected right?"

"It's not like you can't get in there Miriam darling." Willem replied and Nico glared at his friend, pulling his sister closer.

Miriam chewed on her bottom lip, finger trailing over the plan Willem made, but warmth spread through her as he spoke so highly of her. "Alright..."

Nico slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer and she smiled brightly. "Nothing will go wrong." Willem promised.

Miriam shook her head, heart hammering in her throat as she recalled the memory. "You promised." She whispered before pushing past him, roughly ramming her shoulder against his as she disappeared below deck.

And as she lay in her cot, thin blanket over her shivering body, Miriam closed her eyes.

Miriam saw him then, perched on a half broken ledge like it happened yesterday, milky white eyes and tears streaming down her face as she struggled in the grip of the enforcer, "Traitor!" She screamed struggling in the unkind arms of the man holding her. "Traitor! I hate you! I hate you!"