TROUBLE , kaz brekker

xvi. there's something in the air.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KAZ DIDN'T MENTION THE tea shop again. Because of course he didn't.

Or, rather, he mentioned the meeting with Ohval, then went to great and not-so-convincing lengths to ignore everything that had come after.

They'd reconvened in a tavern. It was old, everything slightly fraying around the edges. Echo picked at the split fabric of her chair until it came away in her palm in strands and tried not to notice the way the barkeep stared at them with a look she immediately branded as suspicion.

As far as foreign taverns went, this one was pretty good. It had the added bonus of not being the place that Echo murdered her sister in - a gigantic victory - if such a thing could be considered a success.

"Ohval's not just a fence." Kaz Brekker, notorious confronter of his feelings and regular meditator, declared.

Echo didn't even pretended to act surprised. She knew that. Plus, Kaz was ignoring her and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She just nodded. "I thought so too. She's-"

"-The Disciple." He said, before she got the chance.

He was compensating. He had to be. There was no other explanation for how utterly annoying he had decided to be since she'd handed him the gloves as he knelt in the alley. He was hurt, sure. Psychological wounds stung a little sharper than the physical and Echo knew that, but she also knew it well enough to not judge. She was the girl, who not even a week ago, he'd found curled up on the ground clutching a gun and handfuls of dirt. She was the girl teetering on a precipice. Not him.

If anyone could pass judgement on lapses of the mind - it was definitely not her.

But Kaz didn't seem to remember that. Or he didn't seem to care. The latter was far more likely.

Instead, he chose to be unbearable. To make her suffer for doing the undoable - caring about him. How very her of him.

Don't let it bother you, she tried to drill the words into her head like some kind of mantra.

Echo put her head in her tired arm, propped on the table. "Contrary to popular belief, Brekker, I can speak more than five words."

He almost looked apologetic - for a moment. And then, he spoke.

"Don't worry." Kaz twisted his features into mock sympathy and - if he'd been so inclined - Echo knew he would have finished off the patronising tone with a pat on the head. "We'll let the Prince know you figured it out first."

Don't let it - never mind.

Prick. Absolute colossal, gigantic prick.

Echo wanted to hit him. Luckily, Jesper spoke before she wasted the energy. He whistled quietly and nodded at the pair.

"What... what tipped you off?"

Echo had already slumped in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Kaz extended a hand, an invitation to speak, like one would give a child. She extended a single fingered gesture in response and the boy grinned then turned to the Sharpshooter. "Her tea cup. When she set it down, she did so without a sound."

"And," Echo added, "her face. It was unreadable. I could have stabbed Kaz right in front of her and she wouldn't have moved a muscle."

"Wistful thinking?" Jesper held up his hands. "We've all been there."