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THE MOON SAT PERCHED BETWEEN CLOUDS and looked down at Ketterdam with shameless novelty. Its pure and effervescent beams stretched out and welcoming towards any stragglers or strangers of the night whilst keeping those snug in bed hidden well out of view. The rays of virtuous white bounced off of each reflective surface and washed the world of its colour. It washed the night of its sins whilst allowing all to be committed so that when the sun rose to start anew, the threat of imperfection remained a threat instead of a promise.

Lyda Braesvelt kept low as her feet danced across the moon-bathed rooftops. A dark garnet hood covered her pulled-back hair and sheathed her face as her eyes glimmered with fleeting suspicion. She moved with the shadows, her feet nimble and quick. Not a natural nimbleness, but a taught nimbleness, one she had to perfect. Thieves in Ketterdam had to be light on their feet and Lyda had to fly. The girl did not falter as she leapt over a chimney top, her feet landing almost soundlessly against the roof tiles.

In her red-gloved hands, she clutched a necklace that twinkled under the moon's rays, each perfectly cut diamond blinking and glittering so tantalisingly as if each sparkle screamed stolen. It filled her with pride. She lowered the covering from her mouth as she felt a bubble of laughter brewing in her stomach, yet to reach her face but refrained from letting it slip as she almost tripped over a loose slate on the roof. Her feet moved rapidly now, the glow of the Crow Club and the noise of the East Stave becoming more and more apparent.

She had this.

The girl clambered up a small ladder on the roof so she was at its very highest height before she walked it like it was a tightrope. Inej had taught her this when they'd first met. The Suli girl had been ever so willing to teach the girl how to balance and fall, both equally as important. The older girl had even joked that Lyda could give her a run for her money. The younger girl took pride in the compliment- joke or not. Giddily and quite childishly, she allowed each of her feet to sporadically dip below the peak as she walked. She was out of sight to the world and she adored it.

The girl glanced all around before she slid down the slanted roof until her feet hit the edge of the bricked parapet. She leaned over the parapet as she gazed down at the streets below. She was by the canal now, watching and waiting for anything. Her hand still desperately clutched tight around the jewellery, afraid to let it go in case she'd somehow lose it. Kaz would have her head stuck onto his cane if she were to lose such an object. Music from across the canal drifted steadily to where she was perched. It was a sultry kind of music, a music that one could only truly hear when passing by the pleasure houses that lined the wharf and inner streets. Even from where she stood she could see the women and men in revealing mesh material sexily draped across their bodies to entice customers.

It made Lyda's stomach knot. That could've been her or any other free soul in Ketterdam and she knew it. It scared her.

As she shifted, Lyda's eyes flitted from street to street, from person to person. It seemed like a silly and frivolous activity but Lyda did this each and every single night since she'd learned the ways of Ketterdam. She liked to watch and listen to the fools and follies that roamed the streets. Jesper used to call her a true crow, although it was meant to be an insult. He had meant that she worked for the Crow Club and that she was flighty with a love for shiny things. Lyda didn't care for his hidden meanings. She quite liked the idea of being a bird.

It seemed rather freeing.

Her eyes drifted back down to her hands where the necklace was now shining on display. It had been an easy catch, stolen right from the pocket of a merchant. The man's careful eyes that flitted in distrust had been far too obvious for her narrowed eyes trained in the noble art of thievery. It was one of the first things Lyda had learned when learning the renowned art of theft and bartering. Kaz had been the first to teach her. He had taught her that any situation was simply malleable wax- able to be crafted to her desires. He had taught her to pick locks, to never let her guard down and to under no circumstances ever show any sign of weakness.

She looked at the moon laying incandescently in its innocence and sighed heavily before her head dropped to her chest. Eight bells rang out around Ketterdam and Lyda sunk into herself. She had to get back to the Crow Club. She was meant to be back in the safety of the Club an hour ago, but she was certain no one would be surprised by her lateness. They usually weren't, yet that didn't stop Kaz from scolding her as if she were a petulant child.

The girl huffed as she pulled herself up to crouch atop the parapet. She allowed her feet to walk for her, her eyes still admiring the glittering jewels. She envied those who could throw away their money and afford items so luxurious. Necklaces like the one in her palm were pretty but futile, she envied how easily people bought them only to wear them once or twice. When she reached the edge of the building, she lowered herself down onto the flat roof below, before she jumped from the flat roof onto the cobbled side street.

Lyda adjusted her hood and pulled it further over her head. Her head remained cast down as her wary eyes continued to flit all around. She approached the busiest street of East Stave, people filtering in and out of gambling halls and onto the partially lit street. The girl's sheathed fingers wrapped tightly and firmly around the jewellery in her palm before she shoved it into her pocket, her hand still clutched around the precious jewels. She wouldn't give the Stadwatch the satisfaction of catching her with her red hands and stolen gems.

Rain had begun to spill over the clouds as it scattered across the Barrel. Lyda's face contorted at the feeling as she now picked up the pace. Roars of laughter and defeat echoed all around her as she fell into the crowds bustling to and fro in their delirious, inebriated states. Lyda turned a corner and did not dare falter as the decorative Crow Club reared itself ahead of her. Her eyes scanned its doors which were usually guarded by two men on either side of the entrance.

There was only one man tonight it seemed. He leaned back against the concrete walls and blended perfectly with his surroundings, you could hardly tell he was guarding at all...however, Lyda had memorised the security's rotations and upon not seeing the ghastly grin beaming from the shadows, a grin she'd grown to tolerate, her brows furrowed. The girl remained stooped as she weaved between patrons of The Barrel and their sticky fingers. Her feet remained steady on the uneven road as she approached the gilded crow that hung over the entrance.

Lyda nodded as she ducked under the entry for cover and passed by the man at the door. The man grunted in response but let her pass easily. She slipped into the club, a club filled with people not so unlike her. She lowered her hood as she entered, her dark tresses a mere shadow in the dim and dark lighting of the Crow Club. Those who were patrons of gambling and drinking did not spare the familiar, youthful spry of a girl a second glance as she made her way through the club. Her face brightened but remained still as she spotted familiarity amongst the tables. Her feet quickly carried her towards the boy where he sat.

"Jesper," Lyda greeted as she lowered herself onto the seat beside him, her posture straight and rigid. Her hand had quickly left her pocket and the jewels within it as she sat with a nonchalant expression. "Aren't you're supposed to be in the door tonight?"

"I am trying to prove something," Jesper drawled as he winked knowingly in her direction. The Zemeni boy smirked as he shifted in his seat while a large, boisterous man threw a bag of coins towards the game dealer. The girl huffed and leaned back into her chair. "Let me see that!"

The dealer tossed the coin sack towards Jesper, who caught it with his usual precision. The boy leaned forward over the table, his eyes trained on the obnoxious man. Lyda kept her eyes on the man, a twinkle of amusement flooding across her face. Her eyes flitted from Jesper's hands to the faltering man

"The Lucky Nine casino up the block has had trouble with counterfeit coin lately." Jesper commented, "Heavy, but brittle." Lyda looked carefully towards the boisterous man. She searched his face for signs of panic, all of which were beginning to show. The jumping eyes, the scrunched brows, the nervous laugh. Lyda had to suppress a satisfactory grin.

"Oh, come on, now. I've been here for hours." The man brushed off while his eyes flitted around the table. "My money is good, no?"

"Zemeni coin can take a bullet. But the knockoff..." Jesper winked once more, as he flipped the coin from his fingers into the air. It wasn't even half a second later when he whipped out his pistol and shot a hole through the coin. Lyda, who was glad to say that she had been wholeheartedly expecting this, hadn't flinched with the rest of the table, she merely watched with glee twinkling in her eyes as the coin clattered onto the table. "Busted." Jesper flipped his gun back into its holster.

"What does that prove?!" The man yelled angrily. Two men grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away as he struggled. "Hey! Wait! What are you doing? Get off me!"

Jesper grinned in excitement and lurched forward to collect the money from the table before a wooden cane was slammed down on the pile. Lyda straightened up further at the sight, her eyes shooting upwards towards Kaz Brekker who stood in all his glory, looking down at Jesper in disapproval.

"No loud noises at the table, Jesper." He hissed, his menacing cane moving atop the table as he did. Lyda watched the cane carefully as it pinned down the money on the table. "You'll scare off the pigeons."

"Wouldn't want that, boss." Jesper tutted obediently, Kaz's darkened eyes drifted toward Lyda, who nodded her head ever so slightly, so unnoticeable to anyone but Kaz but the singular movement told him all he needed to know.

She had something for him.

"Shouldn't you be on the door?" Kaz questioned, his burning gaze redirected to the nonchalant marksman.

"Yeah, right away, boss." Jesper tutted as he glanced at Lyda before shifting his position. The girl remained still as Kaz's eyes returned to her

"Braesvelt," Kaz sharply gestured with his head for her to follow him as he moved around. Lyda shot Jesper a quick, wide-eyed glance before she stood to her feet and followed after the boy as he moved away from the table. She quickened her pace as a short pudgy man approached Kaz as he walked away.

"Early for action, innit, Kaz?" The man commented as he followed. Lyda kept her head down as she wove in and out of drunken men and women.

"What do you want, Rotty?" Kaz passively asked as he carried on walking. His eyes barely flitted backwards, only doing so to ensure that Lyda was following.

"Someone stole a DeKappel from a merch's private residence last night."

"Is that so?" Kaz's disinterest was evident as his beady eyes drifted around the Crow Club. Lyda watched his uninterested facade that covered any semblance of concern for his club or affairs.

"It's a painting." Rotary supplied, "A landscape of Ravka. The Fold. Oil on parchment."

Lyda found herself suppressing a grin beneath her stoic face. She knew of the painting Rotty was desperately explaining, Ghenzen, she'd been injured retrieving it and had bled on the frame which led to a very unfortunate scolding from Kaz about her inability to avoid tainting such a possession and also about getting injured on a job, although the latter was mentioned briefly as more of an afterthought.

"I know who DeKappel is."

"Well, he don't do nudes, so I never heard of him."

Kaz suddenly stopped and turned on his heel to face the crude man. Lyda's hands were folded over her chest from behind the man as her lips curled in disgust. She was beginning to get irritated. Her gloves only did so much to suppress the feeling of anxiety that came with being out and around Ketterdam. She would much rather be upstairs out of view, stripping herself of the gloves, estimating the value of her stolen goods or rooting through Kaz's organised paperwork before he'd had the chance to look at it.

"Get to it, Rotty," Kaz scorned, as the man licked his lips and reached into his jacket. Lyda watched curiously as she focused on Rotty as he pulled out a small replica of the famed DeKappel painting rather than the growing noise of the room and the heat that crept up her neck.

"Worth something like 10,000 kruge." Rotty tucked the photo away again. "The thief had to get past four roving guards, high fences, padlocked doors, and a security system designed by one of them Grisha witches."

"Fabrikator," Kaz corrected, his eyes not leaving the scenes of the Crow Club as more cheers erupted from tables. Lyda's eyes, however, were focused on Rotty whose eyes looked to both Kaz and Lyda knowingly

"Whatever. The point is, either it was a group effort or a ghost." Rotty leaned closer to Kaz who turned to face the man.

"Why does this concern me?"

"I've got a buyer lined up. Legit money. So, uh... if you hear a whisper..." Rotty clicked his tongue and fingers energetically. Kaz tilted his head dangerously as he towered over the short man.

"Who can hear a whisper here?" Kaz almost taunted before he turned and began to walk off. Lyda silently moved forward, and as Rotty turned, he crashed into the girl. She stepped away quickly as her chest tightened painfully, her teeth gritted as she hunched her shoulders. She began to follow Kaz as he steadily wove through the crowds and began to climb the winding stairs. The young girl kept a short yet unnoticeable distance between them, yet to Kaz with each step he climbed, Lyda was close enough to be concealed in his shadow.

Kaz quietly yet stoically opened the door and entered, holding it open to allow Lyda to slip into the office behind him. She cautiously moved around him, her gloved hands wringing mindlessly as if in second nature. She was careful to completely avoid her brother's figure as he bolted the door behind them. Lyda completely bypassed the stolen DeKappel hung in all its glory on the wall as she walked through to Kaz's bedroom, scanning the still room, precariously looking for any sign of disturbance or any lurking figures in the shadows. She allowed her shoulders to drop and her face to fall.

Kaz was only seconds behind her as he entered. He stopped with his back to her as he shrugged off his jacket. He threw his jacket onto his bed before his eyes met her angsty stature in the reflection of the mirror. Through the mirror, he glanced towards her jittering hands as her eyes darted around the room like a caged animal.

"What do you have for me?"

Lyda subtly flinched at the break of silence as her eyes snapped towards her brother's reflection. She took a second to process his words before her gloved hands detached and reached into her pocket. She pulled out the glittering necklace that glistened so faintly under the yellowed lighting of the room. She held it loosely now, her eyes far away as she pinched it between two fingers.

Kaz turned and slowly took it from her, his eyes on her occupied self. He tucked the necklace into his gloved palm before he stepped aside. Lyda stared at the floor as she unrolled her shoulders and continued to wring her hands. She could feel a wetness on her fingertips beginning to permeate and stain her skin. She swore she could smell the bitter twang of copper and taste its acrid metallic aftermath. She heard her brother speak her name through the haze that had filtered all around her. She raised her head to meet the eyes that matched her own (-the eyes that matched Jordie's too). Kaz tilted his head towards the wash basin atop his dresser and the girl quickened into action.

She shook noticeably as she removed the red leather from her fingers and placed them haphazardly beside the bowl. Her reflection rippled in the water as she carefully dunked her hands into the basin, allowing it to soak her skin. Her hands wrung themselves repeatedly beneath the depths. She did this silently yet her movements were rapid and swift. Kaz knew better than to say anything further until she was finished scrubbing. Lyda picked up the bar of soap, her bar, one that lay on a small, pristine platter awaiting her hands. The girl scoured her skin, ridding it of any feeling. She scrubbed and scrubbed, her hands raw and red. She did not stop until the feeling of thick crimson blood had dissolved and she could no longer taste the metallic twinge.

Lyda pulled her hands out, holding them flat in the air as she examined them once more. They felt lighter. The girl's eyes burned into her tender flesh whilst her brother watched her carefully and as she turned to face him, with her hands on display, he met her fractured gaze. She watched as his own eyes glanced towards her hands, softening ever so slightly before his eyes stoically returned to her face.

"They're clean," Kaz confirmed, his face stony and emotionless. He'd done this hundreds of times and he would do it a hundred more if he had to. The girl looked unconvinced at his words as she turned in a circle slowly. He scanned her dark clothes for any semblance of blood or dark staining as she turned back to him looking for answers. Her brother nodded in confirmation that not a single speck of blood laced her garments.

Lyda let out a shuddered breath as her brother handed her a second pair of red gloves. She took them, careful not to brush against the soft leather of her brother's hands so as not to taint her washed skin with the dirt that most likely lingered on the leather of her brother's gloves. The black gloves were worn and familiar yet they held threat. Kaz knew this.

He was careful.

"Took it from some merchant down by Zentsbridge," Lyda started after a breath in, her eyes flitting to the jewels in Kaz's hands. Her fingers flexed in her gloves as she readjusted them accordingly. "They're Ravkan jewels, hallmarked but unregistered." Kaz examined the necklace closely before he pocketed it.

"I'll send Jesper to pawn it," Kaz decided as Lyda watched him move.

"Jesper?"

"You can go with him,"

Lyda let out a small 'hmpf' as she sat down in the armchair opposite Kaz's bed. Her brother had turned his back to her as he stood over the water basin. He was slow in taking off his gloves, his eyes scanning the clear water that his sister had just used. The sound of rain outside grew louder, only by a few octaves but Lyda tilted her head towards the shadows. Her lips curled up at the sight of Inej Ghafa lurking in the shadows almost unnoticeable had Lyda not been expecting the girl to make an appearance. Lyda's eyes drifted towards her brother who faltered in washing his hands before he promptly resumed.

"Hello, Inej," Kaz greeted monotonously as he kept his back to the two girls. Lyda stayed quiet as her sheathed hands thrummed her fingers on either one of her legs as the two talked. She observed the two carefully. She trusted Inej, probably just as much as she trusted her brother. "What information do you have for me tonight?"

"A lead on a job," Inej began while she pulled down her usual face covering. "A big one...enough money to change lives."

"It doesn't take much to change someone's life in the Barrel," Kaz stated dismissively as his focus returned to the wash basin.

"A million kruge?"

Both Lyda and Kaz's heads raised and whilst Lyda looked directly at the girl in front of her, her brother met the girl's gaze through the mirror. He was invested now, the conversation fully worthy of all of his attention (-although if the conversation was with Inej, it usually was).

"What's the name?" Kaz questioned as he dried off his hands, keeping them out of view from the two people in the room.

"Dreesen...a wealthy merchant," Inej supplied. Lyda tilted her head at the name. It was familiar and whilst Kaz and Inej both continued discussing, the girl wracked her brain as to why she knew him.

She could almost picture him, pudgy, with grey hair and a marvellous moustache, a brown jacket and a pocket full of...Oh no...Lyda's eyes widened slightly at her revelation. Oh, this wasn't good...with a gulp, Lyda tuned back into Kaz and Inej's conversation, her eyes still widened ever so slightly.

"I would have followed him inside, but Dreesen's hired some private security," Inej told the Brekker man as the thunder continued to rumble across Ketterdam. "I would have had to use my knives to get closer."

"Private security..." Kaz pondered as he faced the girl. "Anyone we know?"

A Zemeni man...I think his name is Tendo," Inej contemplated before she straightened her face. "You know him?"

"He gambles at one of Pekka's clubs," Kaz sneered as he made his way back out towards his office. "So I won't have leverage on him...but Pekka will."

Lyda's breath faltered at the mention of the man. The man who made a frequent appearance in her nightmares, the man who tore Jordie away from her. Lyda shut her eyes tightly and remained seated as her fists clenched. She could feel the blood beneath her skin pulse through her veins. She hated it. She hated the control a man like Pekka had over her. In her gloves, her hands trembled ever so carefully as the feeling of a thick substance began to engulf her fingers and toes.

Lyda shook her head, out of view from Kaz and Inej as they spoke. The blood was rising. Across her face, up her calves, up to her knees and brushing her thighs through her clothed skin. The girl took a shallow breath in before she unclenched her fists and shook them out. She redirected her jumping nerves. She wouldn't be drowning in blood. Not now. Her gloved hands began to twiddle again. Her fingers traipsed across the red leather- a distraction she found.

"So?" Inej's voice broke through the fog. "What's our move now?" Lyda was confused, although she wasn't surprised. For a spy, she was horrible at listening. She stood to her feet and grabbed the necklace from Kaz's bed, hiding it behind her back as she leaned against the wall to listen to the end of the conversation.

"You're the one of us who believes in a higher power," Kaz huffed as his eyes lingered on the DeKappel painting hung proudly. "If we're going to survive a round trip through the Fold, we'll need a miracle or two."

Lyda held her breath. The Fold? She guessed that this was a conversation she probably should've been listening to. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. A million Kruge? To get through the Fold? Surely this was an elaborate scheme, a joke even. Lyda had heard of all the horror stories of the Fold, Ghenzen, it was hard not to! She'd heard them from the Ravkans, the Shu, the Zemini, and even the Fjerdans.

The Fold was not a place Lyda Braesvelt wanted to go through.

"Lyda, stop lingering," Kaz instructed. His words snapped the girl out of her stupor and when she looked up, she was surprised to see that the two were alone again. Lyda stepped into the doorway, the jewellery hidden behind her back.

"Are we going to Dreesen's meeting?" She asked carefully to which Kaz sighed and pinched his nose.

"What did you do?" He questioned tiredly. He knew her all too well and that tone, that tone she used was the one that sparked frustration in Kaz. It was a guilty tone, one that told him that she had done something stupid.

"You always assume-" Lyda began before she stopped herself with a short breath in. "Yeah, no, I can't pretend I haven't done something."

Kaz straightened up at the quick confession He had been expecting more of a fight. His hand clenched around the head of his cane as he stared at her in disproval. Lyda grimaced as she held up the necklace once more, allowing the candlelight to illuminate everything shiny.

"Yeah...you know the way I kind of...most definitely stole these?"

"Lyda..."

The girl winced dramatically at Kaz's tone, her face screwing up in unease.

"Well... I might've nicked it straight from Dreeson's pocket," Lyda elongated her sentence as she continued to wince. Kaz had an unimpressed eyebrow raised as looked down. "His left coat pocket, to be more specific...whilst he was walking unguarded down by Zentsbridge if we truly want to be bogged down in the details."

Silence fell over the siblings as they stared at one another. Kaz's face was solemn but Lyda could see the vein in his forehead popping in anger.

"Keep the necklace and pawn it later," Kaz eventually decided, as he ran a gloved hand through his hair. Lyda nodded and shoved the necklace deep into her pocket. "Now, go tell Jesper to meet outside in an hour."

Lyda huffed and straightened up, her face tightening as she prepared to face the Crow Club. She rolled her shoulders back as she took a deep breath in. Kaz watched as the girl rebuilt herself, her confidence shrouding any cracks that may dare show themselves. She looked at her brother one last time, and with a swift nod, Lyda slipped out of the office silently, leaving Kaz to look at the painting of the Fold, his eyes sheathed by an unknown curiosity.

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HELLO MY LOVELIES!

Welcome to the first chapter of Sticks and Stones! I wont lie, this has been completed for a while but I completely forgot to publish it, so ENJOY <33

LOVE YOU ALL,
-WINEAUNT