Drowning (Kaz Brekker)

viii - Eye For An Eye

KAZ KNEW THE FEROLIND WAS GOING TO BLOW UP. Well, he didn't know per se. But he had a hunch, and Kaz had learnt long ago to trust his gut. The Ferolind would take them to Djerholm, captained by Specht. Or, the real one would. The one before him would burn to ashes and possibly take part of the harbour down with him. He'd have to deal with that when he got back.

The boat was burning. People were shooting. Inej was late, but everything else was going according to plan. Kaz didn't stop to recognise who was shooting at them. Black Tips, he suspected, though they shouldn't have had so many men. He wondered who had let slip about the job. He'd have to deal with that too.

"Berth twenty-two." He said to Asra beside him, sat against a crate, pistol in hand and eyes alight with a focused excitment. She was like Jesper, in a way. They both lived for the thrill and fight, only Asra was without the jittering and gambling and complete lack of poker face. She'd be so good at cards if she took them up. But that would require actually interacting with people, and Kaz doubted she'd willingly do that to herself. He could sympathise.

She nodded once, movements quick as a bullet, and stuck her head around the crate and opened fire. Kaz left her to it. She'd make it. She was yet to disappoint him on a job. Or at all.

He moved quickly through the fray, a god among men. He'd lived through more situations like this than he could be bothered to count. He wouldn't die like this. He refused. Asra always laughed at his attitude towards morality. We all end, Kaz.

Will you? Asra didn't seem like the type to believe herself mortal. If he was a god, she was beyond.

Her smile had twisted. Of course. Though I won't do it quietly.

Kaz didn't agree. But he didn't tell her either.

Jesper spun to face him, pistols raised. Recollection crossed his dark face, aglow the way it always was in a fight. He was shaking, but Kaz knew the sharpshooter couldn't be further from fear.

"Head east to the next dock, board at berth twenty-two." Kaz told him.

"What's at berth twenty-two?" Jesper asked, crouched behind a crate beside a trembling Wylan.

"The real Ferolind." Kaz said.

"But -"

"The boat that blew was a decoy."

"You knew?"

"No. I took precautions. It's what I do, Jesper." Kaz's patience was wearing thin.

"You could have told us we -"

"That would defeat the purpose of a decoy. Get moving." Kaz went to leave, but his eyes landed on Wylan. He was shaking with definite fear, awkwardly clutching Jesper's rifle. "And make sure he gets to the ship in one piece."

With that, Kaz left them be. They'd make it. Shootouts were about the only thing Jesper didn't lose.

Cane in one hand, pistol the other, Kaz made his way through the docks. He ducked behind crates, shot men dead, and boarded the real Ferolind without a scratch. Jesper was there, rifle in hand, stood in the crow's nest, shooting anyone who came too close. Wylan and Rotty were shooting from the deck, mostly Rotty. Kaz joined them as Nina and Matthias did. Only Asra and Inej left. Where the hell were they?

"Nina!" Asra's voice cut through the air. A moment later she appeared, racing along the top of the crates and containers. She held something close to her chest, someone. Inej.

Asra leapt from the crates. She stumbled into the landing. Inej was throwing off her balance. It didn't stop her. She ran along the pier, dodging between corpses and bullets and men. She'd barely set foot on the Ferolind when Kaz rounded on Specht.