TROUBLE , kaz brekker

i. everything else follows.

CHAPTER ONE

ECHO CADDEL REMEMBERS EVERYTHING. She thinks it is her curse.

Her mind devours and consumes the world, it feasts and delights in every second, on every modicum of life. She remembers the sound of the sea, the curl of Genya Safin's hair, she remembers the way leather gloves feel as they graze the knuckles of her hand and the scent of gunpowder in the air. Silk and knife blades and swathes of black silk. Everything that has happened. Everything those weary eyes have seen.

And the pain. The agony of it all, the ceaseless unrelenting torment. The way her sister's blood fell like acid on her cheek and hardened in the still Ravkan air.

Echo remembers it all. Her mind was museum of things she longed to forget. Pain was framed on the walls, they made exhibitions from the scars.

And so, as they had docked at Fifth Harbour Echo recalled the way she'd walked this road before. Deja vu flooded her senses. It was her, Ketterdam and a series of pieces falling into place around them. Except for this time, she wasn't alone.

Jesper was the first of them to disembark, eagerly planting his feet on the solid cobble that adorned the Kerch roads. He breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted the angle of his hat atop his head of coiled hair. Then Inej, a second later, all dark fabric and shadows hooded as she seemingly materialised beside the brightly coloured Sharpshooter. She laughed, a quiet little breath of a thing, as Jesper startled.

Echo watched them from the deck of the ship. It was what she was best at. Watching. Scouring the scene before them for something, anything out of the ordinary. Any signs of danger, a sudden shift of the eyes, a move for a concealed weapon. She had to admit Fifth Harbour was an excellent choice of locale, all things considered. Kaz decided it was less conspicuous that way and, despite the dirt, the undesirable commercial wares and the, quite frankly, inappropriately behaved sailors, it was one of his more tolerable plans. It meant they skipped the populous of the tourist ports and instead, stepped off the ship a little closer to home.

The few steps, the better. Echo was in desperate need of a bath.

"See anything?" Kaz Brekker muttered, his hands ( always gloved ) folded over themselves and placed rather delicately on the head of his cane.

"Nothing." Echo never moved her eyes from the bustle of the port. "It's too quiet."

"A trap?"

"Or a very lucky day."

He stared, almost amused. "You don't believe in luck, Caddel."

"But Pekka Rollins does. I'm trying to think like the enemy."

"How's that going?"

"Kep ye nom, dirre?" The accent was a light lilt and the words sounded sweet against the guttural backdrop of Kerch. Echo always did love the study of languages, the way her personality altered with the mastery of everyone. Maybe one day it would alter into something she liked.

Kaz's brow furrowed, the language awkward and odd to his ears after being bombarded by the brutal inflexions of Ravkan and Kerch. "Kaelish?"

"That's the one. I-"

"Can you two get down here, please?" Jesper strained his neck to throw them a glare from his place on the cobble. "We've got places to be! Things to do! Debts to settle!"