CHAPTER ELEVEN
vol i — bloody fjerdans!

Dinara had slipped out the door, not wanting to get in between whatever Matthias and Kaz were getting into. The tension between the two was a lot, Matthias was going to try something to get his pardon, Dinara knew it. She pushed all of those feelings out of her mind, hoping Kaz wouldn't be be killed by the big bad Fjerdan, she headed towards the shops. She was known regular in some of the fancier shops. The owners knew that she would come and scan each of the racks, trying to find the perfect dress, and like clockwork, the bastard of the barrel would show up a few days later. He would buy the same dress dinara's eyes stayed on a little longer. They found it adorable, the way he spoiled her, but they didn't know the whole reason why he did. Dinara's eyes scanned over each of the quant little shops, deciding on what she wanted to go into. She stopped a few times, her eyes traveling over a few of the dresses in the windows.

Sadly, they weren't exactly Fjerdan weather approved, so she had to move on. She continued her walk through the streets of Ketterdam, heading into one shop in particular. She was a known regular in one of the shops, buying either small trinkets or something more dangerous. Ivan, the man that owned it, loved her with his whole heart. He found dinara a sweet girl, no matter what she was buying, she treated him with nothing but kindness. Ivan reminded her of her father, making her heart grow warm. It grew warm in a slightly different way than it did around Kaz, and that confused her. She always shook of the feeling, not wanting to dive deeper into that black hole. She opened the door, the bells ringing as she walked into the store.

"Ivan!" Dinara shouted. Her fingers traced over the intricate designs of the shelves that lined the small shop. She glanced at every little trinket, having to stop herself from buying every one. "You around?"

A man emerged from the shadows, his small frame lighting up at the sight of the woman in front of him. "Dinara, darling! How have you been? Being treated well by that Kaz character?"

Dinara flushed that the last question. "I've been good, don't worry. Still alive, that's gotta be a positive." Ivan nodded his head. He knew the girl got into some sketchy things, it was known that she was apart of the Dregs, but that didn't stop him from worrying about the girl. "Maz, is well Kaz. I get a new dress after I do a job, I mean life can't get much better."

Ivan chuckled. "A ring on your finger would be a better way to live. I need a word with this Kaz. He needs some sense knocked into him, he needs someone to get him to realize the pros of settling."

"Nope. Don't even think about it," Dinara said, shaking her finger and at the small man. "We are not together, nor will we ever be."

"Do you smell that?" Ivan questioned. Dinara shook her head. "That's the smell of denial. You my dear girl, have feelings for him, wether you know it or not."

Dinara shook her head, walking away from the man. "I'm not here for a feelings talk. I need clothes and weapons." Ivan hummed, gesturing for her to continue. "Knives, lots of them, need them to be easy to conceal. I also need warm clothes, the Fjerdan weather type of warm."

"Luckily for you, I have just what you need. Why don't you check out the knives, while I get all the clothes out," Ivan said, his small frame walking towards the back of the store.

Dinara walks behind the counter, tracing her fingers delicately along the glass. She looked around at each of the knives, trying to find the perfect ones for her. She slid the glass to the side, reaching into the show box and taking out four small knives. One had small flowers and vines on the handle, while the other had a small flame rung around the wood of the knife. She loved both, placing them off to the side of purchase. She grabbed a smaller knife, one that could get her out of locks — it also looked amazing as an earring.

A large crash sounded from the back room, making Dinara snap her head up. "Ivan! Are you okay?"

Ivan comes out, his body unable to be seen due to all the clothes he's carrying. "I'm just fine, darling. Don't worry your pretty little head about me." He placed all the clothes on the the large table in the middle of his store, letting out a large breath. "This— this is all I had in the back. It's not a lot, but feel free to go through and grab what you need."

"Not a lot? Ivan, this is half of the Kerch population," Dinara said, laughing slightly. Ivan waved her off, going to check out the knives she had picked out. She searched through all of the clothes, picking out a large coat, a warm dress, pants, and some warmer boots. Dinara picked up each of them, bringing them to the counter. "This is all, Ivan."

Ivan rung everything out, Dinara handed him the kruge she owed at the end. "Have a safe trip, Dinara. I expect you to come back alive and making some headway with Kaz." He pointed his finger at her, waggling it in her face.

"No promises on the Kaz thing, but I will try my hardest to make it home alive. I owe you a tea date," Dinara said, lugging her bags out of the store.

"Yes you do!" Ivan shouted, his voice echoing through the door as it opens and closes.

Dinara walked along the streets of Ketterdam, finding herself lost in thought. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice the body that she crashed into. "Ouch! Watch—" She cut herself off, noticing the slightly trembling body of Inej. "Oh, Inej, what happened?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it, Di," Inej waved her off. She didn't want to burden Dinara with her issues with Heleen. That was her own burden, one she had to figure out for herself.

"You sure?" Dinara asked, she had a feeling she knew what was wrong, but wasn't going to pressure Inej for more information.

"Yeah. Want me to take your bags back to the club?" Inej asked.

"Please. I have some more things I have to get. Mostly sweets, can't live without them," Dinara chuckled, Inej joining in a moment later. She passed her bags off to Inej, walking away to grab her sweets.

( ...⛓... )

DINARA HAD WALKED AWAY FROM THE sweet shop, tucking her toffee's into one of the many pockets of her trench coat. She walked past many of the businesses bustling with early morning customers or people leaving after spending the night. After a good fifteen minutes, the Ketterdam harbor comes into view, the sights and sounds of the barrel fading as she neared the water. There were no crowds to bump against, no cloying perfumes or wild masks. From Dinara's vantage she could see the top of one of the Tidemaker towers, where lights always burned. The thick obelisks over black stone were manned day and night by a select group of Grisha who kept the tides perfect. The harbor masters usually sent a signal to the Tidemakers, telling them to make the tide perfect for their arrival — but tonight there would be no signal. The right bribes had been paid to the right officials, and their ship should be ready to sail.

Dinara walked a little bit faster, she could care less about how Kaz felt about her timing, her sweets were more important. The eerie silence of the harbor made the hair stand on the back of her neck — her eyes scanning for any type of trouble. Rows of crates and cargo containers were stacked high on either side of her slim body — three, sometimes four on top of one another. They made this part of the docks feel like a labyrinth in Dinara's personal opinion. A light mist was rising off the water, and through it, Dinara saw Kaz and the others waiting near the pier. They all wore nondescript clothes of sailors — roughspun trousers, boots, thick wool coats, and hats. Even Kaz had foregone his perfectly cut suit in favor of a bulky wool coat. The thick sheaf of his dark hair was combed back, the sides trimmed short as always — Dinara loved his hair, trembling with anticipation for the day he lets her run her fingers through it.

He looked like a dockworker, or a bit setting sail on his first adventure. She longed to see Kaz act like the teenager he was, wanting him to let loose and enjoy himself for once. It was almost as if she were peering through a lens at some other, more pleasant reality. Behind them, Dinara saw the little schooner Kaz had commanded, Ferolind written in bold script on its side. It would fly the purple kerch fishes and the colorful flag of the haanraadt bay company. To anyone in fjerda or on the true sea, they would look like kerch trappers heading north for skins and furs — it was the perfect coverup. Dinara had quickened her pace, she had figured out that it was later than she thought — making her in more trouble with Kaz, not that she cared anyway. Kaz had decided to have a minimal crew, all former sailors who had made their way into the ranks of the dregs through one misfortune or another.

Through the mists, she made a quick count of the waiting group. The number was off. She knew that they had brought on four additional members of the Dregs to help sail the schooner since none of them really know their way around the rigging, but she didn't see any of them. Dinara grew worried, she knew that this wasn't a good sign, but continued walking anyway. She was willing to fight her way out of this. As she walked foreword, her boot landed on something soft, and Dinara stumbled. She looked down, in the sun glow of the harbor gaslights, Dinara saw Dirix, one of the Dregs who'd been meant to make the journey with them. There was a knife in his abdomen, and his eyes were glassy.

"Kaz!" Dinara shouted, but it was too late. The schooner exploded, knocking Dinara off of her feet and showering the docks in flame.

ivan is a sweetheart