𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 // 𝐊𝐚𝐳 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐈𝐈𝐈.

CHAPTER 3

Pastries

     Brynn much preferred the Exchange to the Barrel. Even though both were crowded and very loud, at least the Exchange was watched carefully by the stadwatch. It helped her feel some sort of safety, but the Wraith closeby helped a fair amount, too.

Inej was a shadow. That was the best way Brynn could think of to describe the girl. Even though the sun hadn't gone down yet, there were plenty of dark corners for Inej to hide in while Brynn bought the two lumps of paraffin and enough snow goggles for the entire crew. To say the least, the purchase confused even Inej, but Kaz wouldn't tell them what it was for. Typical.

She wanted to explain to Vanya and Jared that she would be taking a trip to the Wandering Isle—to visit her parents, since they weren't allowed to tell anyone that they were even on a job—before leaving, so Brynn parted ways with Inej. Though not before the Suli girl warned her not to be late.

"I'm not going to be late," promised Brynn. "I'll be in and out, very quickly."

"Kaz won't like it if you do arrive late," Inej said. "Make it quick."

Brynn rolled her eyes. "Relax, Inej. I will be quick."

She had not been quick about it.

Vanya kept on insisting that she'd bring enough pastries for her journey and for her family. Jared wanted to know everything about her journey. Their dog wanted to slobber all over Brynn's lap and wouldn't move his head from her foot. Long story short, Brynn was running late. Kaz was probably going to kill her. If he tried it, she'd just burn his face off.

She winced. Is this what Ketterdam has done to me? wondered Brynn to herself. What Kaz Brekker has done to me?

The sun had already set by the time Brynn practically ran to their door to get away from their questions. The streets were dark on her way down to Fifth Harbor, full of people with judgemental eyes watching her every move.

Ghezen, when did I become so paranoid?

Probably when you ran away from home and became a fugitive, a second voice answered her rhetorical question.

Brynn pushed her thoughts away as she neared the Ketterdam harbors. Here, the music and lights of the Barrel were no more. There were no more costumes, no more loud crowds, just silence. Just how Brynn liked it.

Off standing in the pier was Kaz and his crew. They all were wearing similar clothes that sailors wore—thick wool coats and hats, boots to keep their feet away from the cold, roughspun trousers that couldn't have been comfortable. Brynn almost snorted at the sight of Kaz, his neat hair combed back and trimmed on the sides, but a bulky wool coat worn on his shoulders instead of his usual tailored suit. His disapproving gaze scanned the thin crowds in the layer of light mist rising from the water. When he found her, his frown deepened.