Chapter Text
Act One - The Lynx and The Bastard
‘I’ll tell you a secret.
The really bad monsters never look like monsters.’
- Kaz Brekker, Crooked Kingdom
Chapter One - Kaz I
Kaz Brekker hated the Menagerie.
There was too much exposed flesh and too many people too far into their cups to be of any use to him, their words never making much sense. Eyes followed him everywhere and several of Heleen's girls had taken to trying to shadow him, desperate for Dirtyhands’ favour though they’d learnt not to touch him anymore. That didn’t stop the fluttering lashes and the hands pushing sweet red kvas at him, hoping to persuade him to visit one of their private rooms.
Though that was nothing compared to their mistress. Heleen’s soft rasp, sugary and sweet, was enough to make his ears bleed and it took all his strength not to vomit whenever she trailed those long talons over his suit jacket. The waters of the canal lapped at his neck as the woman traced her fingers over his gloves. Biting back the urge to swing his cane at Heleen, Kaz kept his face blank and tightened his grip on the crow’s head.
“Are you going to tell me what I came here for or should I take my Kruge elsewhere?” The Bastard ground out, sick of Heleen’s games.
“Well, aren’t you an angsty little bird?” Tante Heleen taunted, her ruby stained lips pulling into a twisted smirk and her hazel eyes glittered with glee.
Straightening up, Kaz tightened his hands on his cane, the metal beak biting into his hand and grounding him. His dark eyes swept over the Tante and he raised a single eyebrow. Sick delight flooded his system as she staggered back, her hand moving to protect her diamond choker. Kaz found his fingers itching to lift that sparkling necklace and watch her clammer to get it back.
“Very well,” Heleen mumbled, swallowing heavily and slumping into her chair, her usual grace and elegance having left her body. Kaz’s lips quirked at one side ever so slightly but didn’t stay there for long. Instead, he watched impassively as Tante Heleen schooled her features into a cynical smirk, but even she couldn’t disguise her fear from the Bastard. Hazel eyes sparkling, she said: “I set my lynx on the prowl last night -”
“If I wanted a story I would listen to the drunks at the Crow Club.” Kaz cut in, his eyes flashing dangerously. Leaning forward slightly, Kaz added in a low voice: “Tell me his name, who he’ll be meeting with on Friday and where, and how many men he’ll bring with him and most importantly who he frequents here.”
“Let’s not be too hasty with all these demands, I scarcely get time to watch you scheme otherwise.” Tante Heleen said, batting her eyelashes, hopefully.
“I could always seek out your lynx,” Kaz suggested, his eyes dark.
Tante Heleen froze. Her hazel eyes sparkled with fear, her breathing quickened and her right hand flew to her diamond choker, her fingers running over the glittering stones. Kaz bit back a smirk. It wasn’t very often that he managed to make the Tante clutch her diamonds with such trembling hands, and he intended to earn that reaction again.
“Very well, he’s meeting with Geels, the Black Tips’ Second, and seven of his men along with some of the Stadwatch the Merch has paid off at the Exchange.” Tante Heleen said, leaning forward, “As for the name, my little lynx was unable to find that, though she may be holding back on me. She’s a temperamental little thing and she’s his favourite.”
Nodding, Kaz calmed his mind and tipped his hat to the blonde woman before turning on his heel, moving towards the door. His cane clicked on the stone tiles with each step he took, but just as he was about to leave, Tante Heleen spoke up, her sugary voice filled with fury. “Where’s my Kurge, Bastard?”
Kaz paused by the heavy oak door. Glancing over his shoulder, the Bastard of the Barrel locked eyes with the blonde woman, cool and passive dark eyes meeting furious and callous hazel. With a shrug, Kaz said in a low voice: “I’ll have Rotty deliver it for you… tomorrow.” With that, he pulled open the door and was about to leave when he cast another look at Heleen and added: “Next time you waste my time like that before parting with your information, I’ll half your pay.”
The barest flicker of a smirk pulled at his lips at the expression Heleen wore, but he didn’t focus on it for long and was soon limping out of the room, the lock clicking into place behind him. Kaz let out a long breath. He despised that room and Tante Heleen with a growing passion.
Knowing better than to linger here any longer, the young man pushed himself forward, leaning heavily on his crow’s head cane. The sound of it striking the smooth stone floor was a beautiful symphony to his ears and a funeral march to all those around him. Some of Heleen’s girls offered him tentative smiles; others dared to step close to him, but one look at his scowl sent them scurrying back to the safety of the shadows. Rich and poor men alike, merchants and sailors, all cast weary gazes at the Bastard of the Barrel. Few dared to meet his eyes, and those who did soon looked away.
He passed the many open rooms where clients perused for their next fix. Exposed skin was everywhere, and the waters of West Stave lapped at his chest, threatening to pull him under. Saints, he despised this place. Kaz shook himself briskly and forged on, grateful when he finally reached the parlour. It only took ten steps to cross, and then he’d be able to limp back to the Barrel.
“I can help you.” A voice said somewhere to the right of him.
Kaz froze.
Glancing down, he saw a slight girl, perhaps a few months younger than him. She had long dark hair, the colour of the Staves at night and dark brown eyes that had seen a thousand horrors. Her skin was the colour of freshly shined bronze, and beneath the vibrant blue and purple paint, Kaz could make out the faint scars littering her body from Heleen’s punishments. The fake Suli silks did little to hide her slender form, though she wasn’t soft like the other girls at the Menagerie, instead, she was just corded muscle and bone. Fear and daring battled in her eyes. Saints, she was beautiful, but not in the delicate way most ladies desired. The girl looked like an oncoming storm, violent, striking and dangerous. Kaz couldn’t help but be bewitched, and the few seconds he spent looking at her, memorising every inch of her lithe form felt like both an eternity and an instant.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dirtyhands rose from his slumber. The Bastard of the Barrel swept his eyes over her form once more and it all fell into place. Heleen’s lynx. This girl was the Menagerie’s secret weapon, and there was no wonder why. She’d snuck up on him, the deadliest boy in Ketterdam. As Kaz’s eyes trailed over her form one last time, he realised that she’d not just snuck up on him, but she’d done it all whilst wearing bells on her feet.
He had to have her in his arsenal.
Dirtyhands needed her skills.
And Kaz Rietveld wanted to help another lost soul.
With a slight nod, Dirtyhands turned away, just catching the slightest flicker of a smile on the girl’s lips as she melted into the shadows like smoke gliding across water. Straightening up, Kaz forced himself to move forward, the familiar click of his cane striking the ground filling his head again. Each tap brought the world back into sharp focus and allowed the gears in his mind to start turning over and over. He was going to get that girl and he was going to make the Dregs a force to be reckoned with. He’d just have to get through to Per Haskell first.
As the plan cemented in his mind, Kaz stepped out of the pleasure house and turned towards West Stave and back to the Barrel.
…
It was gone twelve bells when Dirtyhands reached the Crow Club, but business was booming. Tourists and residents alike sat at the many tables, gambling and drinking away their sorrows. Kaz noted that the Dregs prowled between the tables. Their eyes swept over the customers, checking the coin every so often and offering a not so helpful suggestion or two to the pigeons who were too far into their cups to notice they were being conned out of their hard-earned coin.
Smirking, Kaz slipped inside the club.
Customers and Dregs alike turned to see him limp inside, shouts dulling down to whispers as they eyed the young man with caution. Good, Kaz thought. Most of Ketterdam knew to fear the boy who had made himself at home in the Barrel and even those from outside of Kerch seemed to be wary of his dark gaze. He liked watching the fear dance in their eyes and revelled in the looks exchanged between the pigeons. Kaz wasn’t the weak little boy who had come to Ketterdam all those years ago; he was someone to be feared and the city knew it.
Raking his dark gaze over the crowd, he spotted a group of Dregs sat in the far corner booth that he sometimes frequented with them when they needed a morale boost. Jesper, Anika, Rotty and Bolliger were there now, and without another second’s deliberation, Kaz began to limp over to them. Eyes followed his every movement and he held his head up high, not looking at any of them around him. They could stare all they liked and could hope that he may offer them some favours, but he wasn’t going to give them the time of day.
The soft tap of his cane echoed through the room like gunshots, bouncing off of the walls and floors, overshadowing all of the murmurs filling the club. Jesper’s head snapped up at the sound and he grinned at Kaz, his hand moving to rest upon his revolvers, silently and unconsciously offering Dirtyhands his help. Kaz hated the slight feeling of comfort at the sight of his right hand, but he shoved it down. Leaning against the cane, he glanced between the small group. Rotty leapt to his feet, offering Kaz his seat but the young man waved him off, letting the other man sit back down.
“I’m not here for long, I need to talk to Per Haskell, but first, I need one of you to tell me about the young Suli Lynx from the Menagerie,” Kaz stated, his eyes darting between the four of them.
Rotty and Bolliger exchanged a confused glance and Jesper cocked his head to the side before arching an eyebrow slightly. Anika, on the other hand, let out a snort of disbelief and asked: “Finally choosing to let off some steam, Brekker?”
“No, she’s an investment.” Kaz snapped back. Anika’s eyes narrowed, and had Kaz had perhaps a flicker of empathy, he would have asked her what was bothering her. Instead, he just let his eyes run over the rest of the people at the table and stated: “She’s Heleen’s spider, but I think she could be of better use in our hands.”
Murmurs of agreement ran through them, and Jesper nodded up at Kaz. The Zemeni sharpshooter straightened up in his seat and pointed out: “If she’s indentured to Heleen - she’ll be pricey.”
“I know that, Jes,” Kaz said in a low rasp.
“I can pull the indenture records if you like, Boss?” Rotty suggested, meeting the young man’s eyes briefly for a moment before looking back down at his drink.
“Do that, Rotty. Quickly. I want her name by the time I get back from meeting with Per Haskell, understand?” Kaz nodded.
“On it, Mr Brekker, sir.” Rotty leapt to his feet and was out the door within a fraction of a second. He’d barely managed to pull on his jacket before he entered the dark streets of Ketterdam.
Turning back to Jesper, Kaz added: “Get me a drink for when I get back.”
“Will do, Kaz.” Jesper grinned.
Inclining his head at the remaining Dregs, Kaz turned sharply on his heel and started off towards the stairs. Once more eyes followed him, watching his slow pace. Some of them were fearful; others scornful that a boy with a bad limp had more power than them. Kaz was well aware that many eyes rested on his shattered knee and he fought back a wince with every step he took.
When Kaz had finally passed through the door into the Slat, he paused, his back coming to rest against the rough cut stone wall. A hand reached down to his right knee, kneading the skin around it. His impassive expression melted away into a twisted agony. Each breath he drew in was sharp and swift. The cold air had done murder to the old injury and he knew that he should find a healer. A stubborn voice protested in his mind. The myth of Kaz Brekker needed the cane, gloves and unwillingness to forgive, and he wasn’t about to give in to this weakness.
Stealing himself, Kaz clutched the cane tighter and he forced himself to move to knock on Per Haskell’s door, rapping on the dark peeling paint smartly three times.
“Enter.” Per Haskell called.
Pushing the door open, Kaz entered the room, his back straight and his mask back in place. He hated this part of the job. The weak chinned old man eyed him silently, his thin lips pulling into a smirk, revealing the yellowing teeth that lay behind them. Kaz tried not to let his lip wrinkle at the disgrace of a man that he was expected to bow down to, but he did not comment on it, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Ahh, Mr Brekker, I was expecting you. Did Heleen give you the information you needed?” Per Haskell asked, leaning back, his watery eyes sweeping over Kaz.
“She did, sir.”
“Good.” Per Haskell nodded, letting his gaze sweep over the other man and crossing his arms over his chest slowly, taking in the other man. “I know that look, you want something.”
“Heleen has a spider, one of the Suli Lynxes. I think she’d do better amongst our ranks. I would like to invest in her.” Kaz informed him, his grip tightening around the crow’s head. The metal bit into his skin through the soft leather of his gloves and he drew in a deep breath through his nose.
Per Haskell eyed him warily and said: “Tante Heleen’s indentures are not something you can pay off on a whim.”
“She’s how Heleen gets all her information, and I bet that she would give her life to get out of Heleen’s service. She was so silent that I scarcely noticed her, and I think she’d be willing to do anything to stop working for Heleen. I think she could be a great asset for us, sir.” Kaz countered, his rasping voice filling the room and his confidence bounced off of the walls. Not once did he look away from Per Haskell, daring the older man to break their line of sight first.
“And if she fails?” Per Haskell pressed.
“Then I will foot the bill and pay off the indenture myself.” Kaz offered, wincing internally at the idea of having to pay that much Kruge to Tante Heleen.
“You’d be willing to part with that much Kruge?” Per Haskell asked, sensing Kaz’s unease.
Taking a long breath, Kaz offered Per Haskell his best pleading look and said: “If it will help the Dregs, then yes I would part with that much money. It worked with Fifth Harbour, sir.”
“You better hope she doesn’t fail because if it does, boy, no one here will respect you again.” Per Haskell reminded him.
“I am aware, sir.”
“She’ll be your responsibility.”
“Good.” Kaz nodded, tipping his head, “Sir.”
With that, he turned sharply on his heel and strode out the door, not glancing back at his boss. A long breath left his lips when the door closed behind him and he let his eyes close for a brief moment.
The creak of the floorboards near him forced his eyes open and he turned his head to see Rotty scurrying towards him with a bottle of Kerch Scotch and a folder in his hands. Holding a gloved hand out, he accepted both and dismissed Rotty with a nod before heading up the stairs towards his rooms. Kaz could feel Rotty’s eyes on his back as he ascended, but he brushed it aside.
Reaching the attic, Kaz locked the door behind him and placed the folder and whiskey down on his desk. He moved to rub his eyes slowly before shrugging off his jacket and collapsing into his chair. Allowing his cane to rest against the desk, Kaz allowed his eyes to move to the indenture papers. His eyes skimmed over the standard print before he finally landed on the girl’s name.
A gloved finger ran over the letters, tracing them slowly and he tried to block out the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far greater than anything he had been working towards. Despite the warmth of the attic room, a shiver ran through his spine and he let himself mouth the girl’s name slowly. When he retired several bells later, the name was still burned onto the back of his eyelids, taunting him with the promise of something more than this bitter existence.
Inej Ghafa