chapter two. ketterdam

 "Close the door," ordered Kaz.

 Aria Antonov did just that, shutting the room of Kaz's makeshift office—with a desk made of an old wooden door stacked on top of fruit crates—it hadn't been much, but it was much like Kaz's burrow, where he went to get away from other people. Shifting her feet, Aria placed her hands behind her back, waiting. Kaz stood at his desk, shuffling through the several stacks of paper—occasionally looking up to her.

 "Well? Take a seat," Kaz gestured to the chair in front of the desk, worn and well loved, leather creased and torn. Aria fell into the chair at his request, a little more abruptly than she would've like—earning an odd look from Kaz. He let out an exhale from his nose in amusement, brows raising up. "I wanted to talk to you."

 "About?"

 Kaz pressed his hands against the desk and leaned forward. Instinctively, Aria leaned the opposite direction, away from Kaz's looming figure. "What would you do for four million kruge?" asked Kaz, face knitting in excitement. It wasn't normal excitement, it was eagerness, like a hungry dog.

 Aria let out a hum. "I'd like to think I'd do a lot for that much." Kaz let out a chuckle as he stepped into his tiny bedroom, a rare toothy grin crossed his face—she could see it in his vanity mirror—he looked back to her, smiling. "I've found you're not too much of a gift giver, Brekker. What's the job?"

 Kaz faced her, walking back to the doorway. "An impossible job, near certain death, terrible odds, but we should be able to scrape it." Kaz said almost dreamily, trying to find the answer within her eyes.

 "You know I'm all for that." Aria spoke, fingers tracing the wood grain of the desk.

 "We could be kings and queens, Aria. All of us. You, me, Jesper, Inej...the lot of us, money spilling out of our pockets like it doesn't even matter. No more scrapping through. Kings and queens, Aria." he practically exclaimed, but there was that dangerous look in his eyes that Aria found to be there more often than not. In swift movements, Kaz discarded his vest and his shirt, throwing it down on the desk. Aria's face grew hot for a moment, looking away. He limped back to the mirror, pulling out his new clothes. His muscle came to be cords, his back littered with various scars and bruises, and she found the R tattoo on his bicep. Rietveld.

 Aria was surprised to watch as he peeled off his leather gloves and dipped his hands into a small washbin, where he began wiping the cloth down his chest, the water ran down his muscled body. Aria blinked for a moment, before clearing her throat. "How long will we be gone?" Aria questioned, folding her hands in her lap.

 Kaz thought for a moment. "Few weeks, maybe a month." he replied, casting her a glance from the mirror. "I'll explain this all tomorrow, by dawn I presume. I've asked Inej to gather Jesper and Muzzen, and Wylan. It will all be cleared then." Kaz said.

 Aria nodded, sucking on her lip for a moment. "You're bringing Wylan?" she asked, leaning to look at him.

 He turned, running his figure down with a dry cloth. Kaz nodded. "It's not like I've been having you keep an eye on him for no reason. He'll be under your wing. I trust you with him. Is that correct of me?"

 Aria didn't waste any time to nod. "Of course, Kaz. I'll keep him safe. Merchants kid, I got it." Kaz nodded. Aria purses her lips under his gaze before clearing her throat. "And you're confident in all of this?" she asked as he dried down his body and began pulling on his shirt.

 He buttoned it slowly before leaving it half done, walking towards the desk. He resumed his earlier position, bare hands on the wood desk again. "More than anything." he said, her eyes caught the hard muscle of his chest. Aria nodded.

 "How did you figure out about this job anyway?" Aria asked, leaning back in her chair.

 Kaz sighed. "Van Eck got the drop on me." he admitted.

 Furrowing her brows, Aria sat up. "Someone got the drop on you? I mean, Van Eck got the drop on you?"

 Kaz nodded.

 Aria shook her head. "That's where you were?" He gave another nod. She let out a sigh and stood, watching as Kaz picked up his cane after pulling on a pair of brand new gloves. He reached into his jacket pocket and offered her something.

 A lump of gold. Aria took it into her hands with curious eyes. "Gold made from lead." she scoffed at this. "I'm telling the truth. Jurda parem." Kaz says,  standing in front of her.

 "Jurda parem?" she asks, flipping the lump in her hand over and over.

 "Van Eck told me it makes Grisha do extraordinary things...like turning lead to gold. Come now," Kaz ordered, swinging the door open. Kaz limped out the door and stood at the top of the stairs. He stared down at them with irritation—almost defeat. Aria offered a sympathetic smile before taking the first step down. She didn't say anything as she slowed her steps for Kaz to stay close behind her—Kaz didn't want to acknowledge her speed, but deep down it was rather irritating. But so was someone speeding down the steps and leaving him in the dust.

 "Where are we headed?" asked Aria. Her eyes were glued to him as he stepped out of the club and into the openess of the street, Aria quickly following behind.

 "East Stave, toward the harbor." Kaz responded, heading into the tangle of roads and waterways. They headed into the gambling district, where buildings of garish colors towered over them.

 "Almost four bells," Aria states.

 Kaz nods. "That it is." he confirmed as the sound of jazzy music floated out of taverns and parlors. Kaz walked her further and further down the streets—it was a wonder he'd be going this far, especially after someone had jumped him.

 Soon, the thought of jurda parem came to her mind. It makes Grisha do extraordinary things, Kaz had said. "Kaz, what do you think jurda parem would make me do?"

 Kaz stopped in front of the House of the White Rose. He looked her up and down. "I don't know—maybe you would burn up like a candle wick." he said, before turning to face the door.

 Aria quickly realized where they had ended up. "Oh, you've taken me to the brothel. Saints...how romantic of you." Aria drawls, receiving a hard glare from Kaz.

 "You know I'm not the romantical type. We're here on business." Kaz says, before tapping his cane and leading them forward.

 Aria rolls her eyes. "Oh, really? I thought we were here for some fun." Aria says sarcastically, following him into the lobby.

 A young albino man dressed in a cream colored velvet suit sat behind a desk—red violet eyes flickering up to them. "Mister Brekker, Nina is with a client." All Kaz did was nod and made his way down a hallway. The sickly sweet scent of floral perfume wafted in Aria's face as they pushed down a few doors—Aria could feel the headache coming on.

 "Come on," Kaz urged, nodding to a hidden corkscrew shaped staircase—it seemed to only be of use to employees. And maybe criminals like themselves. Aria furrowed her brow, but she followed Kaz to a small bedroom beside another room—she watched as Kaz pressed his face to the wall at a rather odd angle. Aria's eyes went a little wide as Kaz contorted his face, squinting one eye. She let out a light laugh, crossing her arms over her chest—it was amusing to say the least. He moved, then urged her to look in the small peephole.

 "Oh, dirty man. Peeping?" Aria chuckled, pressing her face where Kaz's had just been. Her eye adjusted to the darkness of the hole then found the scene that laid beyond the wall they stood at. There was a little bald man sitting in silence with Nina Zenik. It was an unnerving thing to peep on, causing Aria to turn back to Kaz in confusion. The prod of his cane caused her to move back, and the two went at it like this for almost half a bell—she was growing irritated of this. When Nina's client left, Kaz led Aria out of the bedroom and towards the next room over—he knocked.

 "Oh. You." Nina Zenik said, disappointed. She allowed them to step in as she threw off the red kefta, tossing it aside. Underneath she wore a slip so thin that if Aria stared long enough...well, it left little to her imagination.
"Saints, I hate this thing." Nina commented, eyeing the kefta.

 "What's wrong with it?" asked Kaz, watching as Aria moved to pick it up and examine it.

 Nina sighed and sat back. "It's not made right. And it itches," Nina stated.

 Aria held it and allowed herself to grimace. "Not Ravkan made. This is a costume." Aria said, tossing it back down on the floor.

 "Finally, someone who understands my struggle." Aria nodded in agreement, smiling. She liked having another Grisha to talk to—a grin crossed her face. Nina plucked a cake from the tray and tossed it into her mouth, reveling in the taste. She let out a pleased moan. She dug her toes into the plush white carpet and laid back leisurely, snuggling into the armchair. Content was evident on her face. "What do you want, Kaz?" asks Nina.

 "You have crumbs on your cleavage."

 "Don't care. I'm so hungry." she said, biting another piece of cake. Kaz shook his head in amusement. "Was that Van Aakster?" asks Kaz, Nina nods—answering with a yes. Kaz hums for a moment, tapping his cane on the ground at an angle.

 "His wife died a month ago, and his business has been a wreck since. Now that he's been visiting you, can we expect a turnaround?" Aria stiffened in the armchair below Kaz, her own hand just inches away from his own. She recalls to earlier when she saw his bare hands, not a deformity in sight. Such a mystery why he wore those gloves. She watched as he rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair, waiting.

 "I expect you'll see a change," Nina began. "He started coming at the end of last week and has been here everyday since." she stated, finishing the last bit of cake with a content smile.

 "Oh, excellent. You make him feel better. Ease his woe and all of that...but could you compel him to do something? Maybe make him forget his wife?" Nina snorted at this.

 "Alter the pathways of his mind? Don't be absurd, Kaz." Nina laughed, rolling her eyes.

 Aria shrugged. "The brain is just another organ." she had spoken, straightening her posture.

 Nina smiled at this, rather amused. "Yes, just another organ. An extremely complex one." she explained. "Controlling or altering another person's thoughts—well, it's not quite like lowering a pulse rate or releasing a chemical to improve someone's mood. There are too many variables. No Grisha is capable of it."

 Kaz hummed, biting his lip in thought and tapping his finger on his crows head. "So you treat the symptom, not the cause."

 Nina only shrugged, standing to drop the plate of finished cakes outside her room, then rang for a maid. "He's avoiding the grief, not treating it. If I'm his solution, he'll never really get over her death." Nina shot him an amused look and sat closer in front of them.

 "Send him on his way then. Advise him to find a new bride and stop darkening your door."

 Nina rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Does Per Haskell have plans to forgive my debts, Brekker?" Nina asks, leaning forward. Aria would be lying if she said her eyes hadn't casted to Nina's spilling cleavage, her brown hair floating over her shoulders. She forced herself to look away.

 "None at all." says Kaz.

 She shrugged. "I'll accept Van Aakster with my open arms. He must be allowed to grieve in his own way. I have another client scheduled in a half hour. What business?" Nina cut to the chase, growing impatient.

 "They can wait." Aria simply said, leaning back comfortably and crossed her legs over one another.

 "What do you know about jurda parem?" Kaz asks, cocking a brow.

 Nina shrugged. "I've heard the rumors. All of it seems nonsense to me." she states, leaning back.

 "Apparently not," Aria corrects.

 She scoffs. "Squallers flying? Tidemakers turning to mist? Humor me, Antonov. Even you should know it's not true. Have you seen it with your naked eye?" Nina asked, pointing to her eye.

 "Well, no—"

 Kaz reached into his pocket and presented a lump of gold. "Turning lead to gold."

 Nina rolled her eyes. "You could've gotten that anywhere."

 Kaz nodded, settling onto the plush settee, stretching out his bad leg. "It is real. Jurda parem is real. And, if you're the good little Grisha soldier that I believe you to be, you'll want to hear what it does to people like you." Nina looked down to the gold. Aria marveled at how small and young Nina Zenik when she sat down beside Kaz on the settee, her feet tucked underneath her—flipping the gold in her palm, eyes so curious and her brow furrowed in fascination. A lost Grisha, just like herself. So far from her home of Little Palace.

 "Tell me," Nina ordered.

 And Kaz talked. He talked and talked about the addictive properties of jurda parem and Bo Yul-Bayur—and what they were to do. When he finished, Aria was left gripping the arms of her chair and staring at the tiled floor blankly. Yul-Bayur was with the Fjerdans in the Ice Court. Aria had never been there, but it was something that contradicted her entirely as a person. For minutes, Aria stared. The sound of Nina and Kaz's voices faded into the background as she began to wonder what the Ice Court was like. It was only when Kaz prodded her with the end of his cane when she realized the conversation had ended.

 "Where is your mind, Antonov?" Kaz asked.

 Aria shrugged. "Ice Court."

 "Early bird gets the worm."

 She shakes her head. "Never been."

 He hisses. "Shame."

 "Ja?" She asks.

 He shakes his head. "You're sounding too Kerch these days, Antonov. And of course not. Djerholm is among many of my least favorite places."

 Aria hums. "And what would number one be?" She questions.

 Reapers Barge, Kaz thinks. He starts down the corkscrew stairs and shrugs. "Who am I if not to say the Unsea?" She rolls her eyes.

 "Ha. So very original," she said, walking forward. Kaz stopped for a moment, watching as she was off down the hall. He took a moment to sigh deeply. Adjusting his grip on the head of his cane, Kaz headed off to follow her, a little slower than before. But, after escaping the flood of the lobby with the albino boy at the desk—Kaz found Aria had waited for him at the door. "Care for a drink, Brekker?"

 He sighs. "Only if it's black and bitter."

 "Coffeehouse it is."

edited: 05/20/23
revisions: 12/17