CHAPTER THREE
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KAZ BREKKER DIDN'T NEED A REASON. Those were the words whispered on the streets of Ketterdam. He didn't need a reason any more than he needed permission. Of course, they were wrong. Every single thing Kaz did was deliberate, thought through every scenario. He had strings everywhere in town, he had reasons for every one of them.

All of them except one: the Whisperer.

Kira showed up, offering him a diamond that was worth more than his mind (which was saying a lot) only asking for protection in exchange. Not over her survival, but over her life. She asked him for a life free of some of the burdens of surviving. And Kaz didn't refuse her.

Not because of the diamond, or even the fact that she did win a surreal amount of gold that night, or even for her ability to just steal buttons from his overcoats in the middle of the street.

He didn't refuse her for one single infuriating reason: her smile.

A smile so pure it was as if she erased every corpse she had left to rot, every man she manipulated into doing her bidding, every string she pulled in a way that would make Saints bristle.

I don't lie. It's the only way I can keep my soul intact. Those were the words she had said and Kaz hadn't realized how true they were at that moment.

Kaz always had a reason for everything he did, but trusting the Whisperer of the Barrel, trusting Kira, was done blindly.

He had no idea why—why her smile stirred up the boy in him that had died with Jordie in the Reaper's Barge. However, in all his hatred for her reason for being there, Kaz did not regret allowing her inside. She was as useful as a Heartrender, she had a knack for secrets and better yet a clever mind, faster than his own at times (at least when it came to people).

On the other hand, she irritated him to no end, but she knew she could, and he knew he would just let her.

The worst part: Kira's background story had as many holes as the wall Jesper used to let off heat. And Kaz could not find a single lead in her past life. Not one. Her story was simple, though: Ravkan girl, a survivor of the Fold, made her way to Ketterdam young.

"Where did you come from in East Ravka?" Kaz had asked her, being careful with his words as he had learned how she was able to twist them all.

That was another talent of hers. In her claim of not lying he had learned she was far better at waltzing around the truth, letting misdirection and deception lead the dance and Kaz could hardly ever get a straight answer out of her lips.

Kira had smiled and said, "Os Alta. Where the king lives."

"What's your last name?"

"My last name is the one that comes after my name and tells who my family is."

Kaz had visibly sighed in annoyance. "Who's your family?"

"My blood family, well, my father and mother. My brothers. I believe I have cousins too."

Kaz had hardly given up on asking her questions about her past, but he had taken them down a peg. Instead, he had Inej look into it, even if the Wraith trusted Kira with her life. Inej had found out exactly what Kaz knew already. Which was nothing. It was as if Kira was dead. And dead people don't talk.

Everyone in Ketterdam had a past and he knew that if he didn't stop asking about hers Kira would start asking about his. But she never did. She looked at him as if she knew it already and every time she did, he felt her hazel eyes bore into his soul nearly sending shivers down his spine. Her golden hair reminded him of safety and her smile reminded him of life itself. He didn't know why. And he hated it. But he couldn't get around to hating her or even pushing her away—he hated that too.

She had been with them for a few months now and unsurprisingly had fit in like a glove. Kira made friends everywhere and everyone was keen on sharing their secrets with her. Kaz had Inej to know leverage but he had Kira to know the people around him. To know who he could trust. Who he could depend on.

Kaz made his way up the stairs to his office and bedroom. He walked through the door, sparing the DeKappel on the wall one glance—it was a painting of a landscape of Ravka, one Kira had pleaded for him to get, he had made a deal with her that if he did get the painting she would have to bartend for a month (which she hated). He got the painting. She got the job.

Walking past his office he walked into his bedroom to see her laying down on his bed. Her golden hair sprawled on his pillow like a halo and her eyes closed, her lips pursed. She was clearly bored. Kaz walked over to his washing basin as she peeked at him through one eye and sent him a smile.

"I could kill you for being here," he had said on the first day he had spotted her sitting on his bed as she read a book in peace.

Kira didn't even look up at him when she answered, "Jesper's room is next to mine and he likes to sing. Yours is the quietest one."

"Mine. That's the keyword."

"Exactly. Mine," Kira had answered, looking up at him with a grin that only grew bigger when she saw the twitch of his jaw and the glare he sent her.

He didn't kill her that day. Nor the next day she was there. She usually didn't even speak much, just read or sketched in the comfort of Kaz's room's silence and he let her. He always let her. And every time she left, the smell of roses of the water she used as perfume was left behind. It irritated him to no end. Dirtyhands could hardly say no to a golden-haired girl. Why? That was a question he also wanted to know the answer to.

"Shouldn't you be in the bar?" Kaz asked as he started taking off his gloves. He saw through the mirror as she spared his hands a glance, the corners of her lips twitching before she looked up at his face.

"I told you I'd bartend for a month. I never said when that month was."

Kaz scowled at her, meeting her eyes in the mirror and he glared when he saw her smirk at him. "No book today?" he asked, averting his eyes from hers.

"Better. I heard a whisper."

He tilted his head to the side as if to tell her he was listening.

"You know how I can charm anyone?" she said and Kaz rolled his eyes as he went back to washing his hands. "Well, I came across a rather interesting piece of information."

"Which is?" he asked, his voice clipped.

"I heard a merchant has a prisoner from West Ravka," she said, "Sweet talked my way into the ship he was being held in before he was made prisoner. They told me the poor guy trembled all the way. Apparently, he survived the Fold."

"You survived the Fold," Kaz pointed out and Kira pursed her lips.

"I was lucky, Kaz. If he's a prisoner, it must mean whoever is keeping him hostage likes how he crossed the Fold."

Kaz's eyes met hers again. He saw the way her breathing hitched but her gaze did not waver. And in the reflection of the foggy mirror, nearly blurring her face, Kaz saw something. It was a flash, a quick glance at a long-lost memory. An image from his past. A blonde saint looked over him as he lay in the docks, his mind filled with revenge and the saint's smile. He blinked.

Just then the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and Kaz tore his gaze away from hers. "Hello, Inej. What information do you have for me tonight?" He asked not looking up from his hands.

"She's going to tell you about the prisoner," Kira said knowingly.

"You heard about the job?"

"What job?" Kaz interrupted.

"I have a lead on a job. A big one. Enough money to change lives."

"It doesn't take much to change someone's life in the Barrel," Kaz replied smoothly and his eyes met Kira's in the mirror just as Inej offered the price.

"A million kruge?"

"What's the name?" Kaz asked as he slipped on his gloves and turned around to face Inej.

"Dreesen. A wealthy merchant," replied Inej, and Kaz turned to Kira who nodded, saying, "He could afford it."

"The question is, what's worth a million kruge to him?" Kaz questioned.

"He's looking for a crew willing to cross the Fold into East Ravka and bring back something," Inej replied.

Kira paled. In Kaz's mind, she wasn't afraid of anything, always smiling in the face of Death. She had stolen the buttons right off his overcoats without even blinking—and her only goal had been to spite him. She had never looked scared. And that told him one thing: crossing the Fold was like asking for Death delivered on a silver platter.

"The Fold? Well, of course, certain death pays a million," Kaz muttered. "He didn't say what he wants nicked?"

"No."

"But he's taking meetings tonight, starting at midnight."

"Tell me you followed him."

Inej nodded.

"He brought someone in from a ship. Took a way back to his house in the Garden District to avoid attention."

"He's the one I heard about," Kira spoke up, she was fiddling with the ring on her pinky finger, biting her lower lip. Kaz realized he had never seen her look nervous before. It made his insides twist weirdly. He didn't like to see her like that. "I told you, Kaz. Dreesen likes the way that man crossed the Fold. I'll bet he's after whatever that is."

"What's our move?" Inej asked and Kaz turned to Kira.

"How did you do it?"

Kira shook her head, standing up from his, and ran a hand through her face as she began pacing the room. "A skiff. One that wasn't supposed to make it but did. I wouldn't be surprised if I was the only one that survived."

"So you're saying it's impossible?" Kaz asked her with a mocking tone in his voice.

"Improbable," Kira corrected. She looked up at him, "You know how I feel about impossible, Kaz. But improbable is close enough. I crossed it when I was a kid. I'm not going back there."

"What are you running from?" Kaz asked her, sending a look to Inej who nodded and left the room, to go find their path through the fold.

"I'm not running, Kaz," Kira said earnestly and for the first time since he met her he heard vulnerability in her voice. He hated it. It made her sound broken. "I'm hiding. Hiding from certain Death."

"You know East Ravka, Kira. We need you on the crew."

Her eyes met his and she looked away, her gaze trained on the ring she always wore. She twisted it around a few times and Kaz saw a crest shining up at him every time before it was once more put face down. That was the lead he needed on her past, and to be fairly honest, he had tried to nick it from her before. But Kira always knew.

She didn't answer him. She didn't give him a yes on the job. But she hadn't said no either. It was better than nothing.

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