[ ii. the wraith's wrath ]

𓅪𓅪𓅪

THERE WERE MANY WAYS that Penney Laucier expected for Death to one day find her.

She knew it was saddening for a sixteen-year-old to have such vivid and terrifying expectations for the world, but she also thought that it was better to believe in greeting the end as an equal to the afterlife than as an inferior to the underworld. Most often when Penney thought about dying she thought that her end would come by fire or plague; perhaps, in the most unfortunate of cases, even with a beating or a shooting. Death was always looming around the corners of Ketterdam's shadowy streets. Penney knew that, and had accepted it long ago, but locked under the impression of the Wraith's steel blade on the very night that she was to begin the search for her stolen brother was not one way of demise that she had ever truly anticipated for herself.

Ambush was not an unfamiliar term to Penney. The Wraith's knife to her spine was not the first weapon to ever touch her skin, nor did she expect it to be the last. To hope for otherwise was to be foolish, and Penney was far from naïve. After all, how did she continue to jump so easily from one dangerous encounter to the next and still draw breath so freely?

Because she remained in control of herself. She was not responsible for the actions of those around her and she did not try to be. To divide her attention was to expose herself and leave herself vulnerable to an attack that could have been avoided if she had simply chosen to keep her eyes forward instead of behind. Sure, with the brandish of a knife or the glimmer of a revolver spun from its holster, she might try to anticipate the path that her attackers would choose, but there were no guarantees in how they would ultimately strike. The ways of living and dying relied on the open potential of careless wildcards, and Penney accepted each new draw to her table with a smirk on her lips and a twist of her body as it evaded the ever-sweeping scythe of the Reaper.

What had her mother once told her about the ways of reading life's cards, all those years ago? A perfect deck was more worrisome than a deck born of notches and crooks.

Penney Laucier was not a gambler of chips, no, but she was certainly a gambler of life, and so far her pool had not been stolen from her just yet. She would keep building her jackpot, her legacy and her future for as long as time permitted her, and she was nowhere near ready for the bells to chime at midnight.

"How do you know my name?" Was the first question that eventually slipped from Penney's pressed lips. She was still looking forward down the narrow hallway, for there was no reason to look behind. She could not see the knife, but she could feel it and that was all that she needed to focus on; its reaction against her skin—not the reaction of its holder as their grip tightened at the flinching callousness that was Penney's inquisitive tone.

"How do you know Arken Visser?" The Wraith was quick to bite back. She sounded as if she were speaking through a clenched jaw. The girl was angry. Furious even. But why? What had Penney done to her? Or the Conductor—better known to her as Arken Visser? Penney was relieved, she supposed, to find that this strange man did have a proper name, but she was still more confused than anything. Had the Wraith been crossed by the Conductor on her own attempt to cross the Fold and was now demanding restitution? Exacting her revenge?

"Do not make me ask again," The Wrath griped, her patience dwindling.

"I don't know him," Penney admitted. Her hands were still raised above her head carefully, palms splayed wide to ensure to the shadow girl behind her that there were no weapons hidden in her sleeves, potentially tucked against the spaces of her slim wrists. Her opponent would be relieved to know that Penney carried no weapons at all. She never did, but it was with necessary precaution. "This is my first meeting with the man," She explained.

"What business do you have with him?"

Penney exhaled a cautious breath. She could not lie. Every venturer of this floor sought out the Conductor for the same reason. "The same as yours, I'm sure."

The knife shifted further up her back. "If that is the case, then I cannot let you go further. This is my job to finish," The Wraith proclaimed. "Step aside."

"That's not going to happen," She gritted back defiantly. She did not care that this assassin from the skies had a job of her own to complete with the Conductor. Penney had gotten to him first. It was her right to see this meeting finished on her own accord. "I have lasted and waited for this opportunity far too long to be bested by the likes of you, Wraith."

"By the likes of me?" The shadow girl mused. "I believe you're forgetting that I am the one holding a knife."

"Then I surely hope you know how to use it."

Penney did not wait for another snide response before she acted next. Another rule she had devised for herself when in the midst of an evolving ambush was to not wait for her assailants to strike first, no matter how the exchange seemed to be going. Only she could ever declare with true certainty what she, herself, might do in such a conflict. She could never predict how someone else might move in a fight. The Wraith held a knife to her back, but would she actually use it? Or would she go for a more obvious takedown, such as the back of Penney's knee? That was what Penney would have done, but such a swipe for herself to take against the Wraith was impossible from the angle that she stood. So, she did the next best counterattack.

The key was to not step out in front of the blade but to roll into it from the side, effectively placing herself within the inner reach of the Wraith's arms, locked in a stance of torso pressed to torso. Now, if her assailant wanted to use her own hands she would need to take a step back and leave herself open. That brief moment of exposure was all that Penney needed as she placed both hands on the Wraith's slim shoulders and drove her leg upwards into the girl's stomach.

It was not a hard shove, but the Wraith was still forced to move back. Then she was stepping towards Penney again, the knife still brandished high, yet the blade never touched her skin as they quarreled in the hallway. For several moments, it was a battle of wills and balanced steps, two young ghosts clashing in the shadow's wake. Back and forth, duck and dodge, slash and release, neither girl could seem to touch the other and inflict true damage.

Until, at long last, the Wraith pulled away, perhaps, finding an advantage that Penney could not yet see. The latter was not surprised to be duped, for her opponent was not named the Wraith for no reason. It was in her nature to see what others could not. Penney could not be mad at her grander skillset. It would only encourage the Laucier girl to work that much harder in the future.

Still, in the current moment, she at least had one thing on the infamous Suli spy. She was still blocking the hallway.

"Move out of my way, Penney," The Wraith ordered.

The girl in demand did not move. "You'll have to kill me."

Her attacker's dark eyes blazed, and there was a maddening sheen of sweat forming on her brow, making her black hooded cloak cling closely to her light brown skin. "I do not want to do this," she warned, "but you leave me no choice."

With a sudden and swift flick of her wrist, the Wraith embedded her long blade into Penney's left foot. The heavy knife cut swiftly and sharply through bone and tissue, and pushed cleanly through muscle and leather to catch on the wooden floorboard below, effectively trapping her where she stood.

The surge of pain that followed was excruciating. Penney swung back in alarm as the prickling of fire clawed in her veins, only to instantly regret the action entirely when her left leg would not follow through with the weight of the rest of her body. Had she tugged against her steel holding any further, there was no saying what damage the knife might have inflicted on her foot. Would she even be able to walk again after the blade was pulled, let alone run along the edge of a crumbling canal or climb the rickety slats of a crookedly slanted roof?

Penney cried out as all-out agony dawned on her, yet through the unwanted tears that pooled deeply in her icy blue eyes, she could see that the Wraith was not done with her. With the hand that was not clutching blindly at her trapped and bleeding leg, Penney used the other as a final line of defense, but her mere arms were no match for the Wraith's hidden sheath of weaponry. The girl had already produced another knife from the robes of her black attire, and now raised the heavy hilt of a glinting blade above her head.

"Forgive me, Saints," The Wraith whispered. Then she was bringing her closed fist down atop Penney's unguarded skull.

And the world faded to black.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

WHEN PENNEY LAUCIER CAME to again, an unknown amount of time later, her first hurried thought went immediately to the status of the Conductor that she had yet to meet. Dazedly, she lifted her head up and the world turned sideways as her vision spun through blackening stars. A groan escaped her lips. Oh, something was most definitely wrong.

Her second spiraling thought went to the knife that was still lodged into her foot, holding her firmly to the dirty floorboards of the apartment complex's narrow hallway. Red, hot blood was pooling into the dead wood beneath her, staining the ground an unforgivable and ugly copper color.

Her third thought fell to the Wraith, to the girl who had left her in such a vulnerable position without doing her the mercy of a proper killing, and a blistering rage overtook a disoriented Penney. The sudden wave of fury was so powerful, so malicious, that before she was even rightfully aware of what she was doing, she was rapidly pulling the blade through the top of her mangled boot with an anger so hot that it could have cauterized the open wound that was the sole of her maimed foot.

She did not scream as she wiped the blade clean on her trousers and cast it aside, for the adrenaline spiking frenziedly in her heart had numbed her to the rest of her hazied surroundings. All she could see was the blood that covered her, and the doorway without a number now left seemingly ajar at the end of the hall. It had not been in such a state before her eyes had been forced to a close with the battering of a vicious and unsuspecting fist.

Penney was shaky as she clambered slowly to her feet, leaning heavily on the wall as she hobbled upright. Most of her weight rested solely on her right leg, but she managed to keep her left foot on the ground, even if it was tilted at such an angle so that only her heel brushed the floor. It was better than nothing. If she wanted any chance at seeing what lied on the other side of that door, she needed to move now. She needed to walk.

So, she did. Inhale, exhale, step. Over and over again, teeth clenched so tightly that her jaw might crumble beneath the pressure, Penney crossed the space of the empty hallway. It could not have been more than twenty feet, but it might as well have been twenty miles with the way her wound screamed with every shift of her unsteadied weight.

Panic and uncertainty surged in Penney as her bloodied hands skimmed across the cream-colored wallpaper, her fingertips curling against the notches and dents left in the walls to pull herself forward. If the Wraith had done this to her, a mere stranger seeking innocent aid from the Conductor, what might she be capable of with the man she so actively sought? Penney did not want to imagine it, but her aching brain was spiraling. Would both the Wraith and her next victim already be gone by the time Penney reached the apartment? Had her only shot at reuniting with her brother been snuffed away before the bullet could even be properly placed in the chamber?

The possibility of such a horrible outcome was agonizing to bear, and fresh tears gathered in her eyes again. She tried to shake them away, but they clung to her skin, leaving fresh rivers against the bruises on her cheeks. She hated this. She hated that she was hurt. She hated that she was crying. She hated that the trivial thought of her brother could belittle her to an image so weak.

Penney did not tend to hold onto hope nor miracles, but when it came to Knox she could not help but return to that childish and starry-eyed piece of herself that had always believed in the happily-ever-after. She had only been ten years old when she had been separated from her brother, but she had not yet lost her faith in the world at the time. Six years later, and that feeling had still not diminished entirely, though it certainly should have. She blamed Knox for that. Even when they were apart, he had kept the feeble ghost of forgotten hope in her heart warm and alive. She wondered, no matter how the world might have fared to him from the opposite side of the True Sea, if she was still such a beacon of perseverance to him, too.

There would only be one way to find out.

She had to believe that the Conductor was alive. She had to believe that she could still overcome this obstacle. She had not expected that this evening would end easily, but this? A broken foot. A throbbing headache. A battered system. As Penney finally reached the door without a number and shoved her way through, she had to believe that despite the Wraith's wrath, the Conductor had fared better than her.

Instead what she found was much worse.

The Conductor's apartment had been ransacked, and it was not curiosity that had torn this place apart but rather an obliterating rage. Many of the torches that had once lit the homely space were smashed and tossed on their sides, leaving burn marks against the walls, and as Penney stepped blindly over the threshold and passed through the darkened foyer to the shadowy living area, her stomach turned at the many damaged pieces of broken furniture. Bits of splintered wood and bent metal splayed haphazardly across the carpeted floor, leaving a path of catastrophe for Penney to follow. It was as if a riotous and unruly storm had blown through the entire room, leaving nothing standing in its wake.

Mixed amongst the pieces of broken household items were droplets of blood. That was not a good sign. Carefully, Penney hobbled through the living area, staying close to the wall, and her attention fell to a concaved table in the far corner of the room that had been littered with discarded and half-written pieces of parchment. She recognized a mixture of the Kerch and Ravkan languages spread amongst the scriptures, but much of the information was worded oddly, as if in a code only members of a secret club might understand. Penney frowned as she lowered the crumpled parchment back to the shattered tabletop. Had this been an exchange between the Conductor and a potential passenger?

"Please!"

A sobbing plea pierced Penney's ears and her whole body straightened with reposed caution. Whoever was screaming for their life was not the Wraith, so she could only assume that the Conductor's life still hung in the balance. He was still alive.

Penney moved quickly now, without hesitation, and leaped into the adjoining room attached to the living area. It was a small study space and like the rest of the apartment it had been ravaged by a ferocious touch. In the middle of the room a large desk had been overturned and a chair was leaned back against it, and tied against that chair was a large man wearing cracked spectacles. He was twisting and pulling against his rope binds, a sweaty and sobbing mess, as he did whatever he could to evade the knife that the Wraith held determinedly against his pulsing throat.

The Wraith did not see her former victim enter the room behind her. She was too consumed in her own thirst for vengeance. But Penney was not going to risk another knife cast in her own direction, and she held herself at a distance, even when every part of her was howling to move forward, to do all that she could to save the Conductor. "Stop!" She cried loudly.

With a single exclamation, she had ripped the Wraith from her own deadly trance and had caused the girl to turn swiftly on her heel. The Conductor was forgotten. Penney stepped further into the room and once more she held her hands high in the air, but she would do anything but surrender. "You can't kill him!" The words spilled rapidly then, but Penney did not care. "He is the only chance I've got at rescuing my brother from the Little Palace. Please don't take this from me!" She was desperate. "Don't take my brother from me!"

Neither girl moved. Even the Conductor had frozen, cowering down in his chair. With a life in the balance, it had grown so quiet in the tiny study room. Penney's heart was pounding and she could feel her foot throbbing as she hesitantly shifted her weight, trying to ease the pain she felt coursing through her lower half. The Wraith glanced down to her bloody injury, and then to the clean knife in her own hand. Penney stiffened, preparing for the blow.

"Listen to the girl, Wraith."

The harsh and sudden command sounded loudly from behind Penney, and she whirled around at the newfound voice that dared to break the hostile trance that had formed within the Conductor's apartment. Beside her, the Wraith had already turned and reacted, sending a knife speeding through the air with a cold hiss. Penney's jaw dipped with alarm and a gasp of choked breath escaped her lips as the blade wedged itself deeply into the opposite wall of the study, narrowly missing the head of a boy that she did not remotely recognize.

Despite how close the weapon had been to hitting its target, the boy standing in the low archway to the living area seemed less than unfazed as he pushed further into the crowded room. He had a slight limp to his step as he approached, and Penney's eyes drifted carefully to the black cane held tightly in his gloved left hand. In place of an ordinary handle was a steel crow's head.

Penney quickly lifted her eyes back to the intruder's impassive face. She was unsure if she had ever seen a boy so pale. He looked like the walking dead with his features so sharpened and his shark eyes so black. She might have thought him sick if not for the way he so adamantly held himself.

"Stop this. He's our way to Alina Starkov," The boy spoke sternly. Penney knew he was not speaking to her, yet his presence demanded to be heard by all in the room. There was a determined set in his gaze as he attempted to pull the Wraith back from the deadly edge she had crafted from her own negligence. Penney's caution only deepened as she looked between the conflicted pair who apparently knew each other more profoundly than the Laucier girl knew of either of them. The Wraith was trembling now, nearly in tears, but only by the doing of the boy standing opposite her. Penney would have not ever guessed that such an assassin could be left so shaken.

"Him?" The Wraith spat in disgust, wheeling back to the whimpering Conductor. Already, she had produced another knife and wasted no time in putting it back to the man's throat.

"Heleen knew it. She was using you to sabotage our mission."

"She and I made a deal!"

"It isn't worth more than what we get with him alive," He insisted urgently.

"You choose him over my freedom?" The spy challenged rigidly.

The boy lifted a wary hand in warning, as if he could somehow coarse the knife out of the Wraith's shaking grip. "You assume it's one or the other."

The Wraith's eyes gleamed painfully as she tore her burning brown gaze away from the Conductor and looked back to her polar ally. She did not speak verbally but Penney could read the anguish clearly on her broken features. She could feel the angry questions wafting from her blistered heart. How could you do this to me? What could be more important than my freedom?

Penney realized then that the Wraith's vengeance ran deeper than most. What had she come here to accomplish tonight? What had she been promised? What would be taken from her if the Conductor lived beyond this night? Now, as she silently watched this violent and broken soul crack and crumble before her very eyes, Penney almost felt guilty that a man's life was now being spared.

Almost.

A quiet, baited moment pressed on in the heavy and dashed study room. It was only once the Wraith lowered her knife that the boy took a step closer to her and exhaled a tensed breath. His black stare flickered dispassionately over the captive man weeping in the fractured armchair, the latter still struggling to catch his breath over the fact that his life had been spared.

"Conductor," The boy addressed firmly. Coldly. "I have a job for you."

At that proposition, Penney started again, and her eyes widened with disbelief. No. She was not going to lose this man tonight for a second time. With a shake of her head and an obnoxious scoff, she drew every gaze back in her direction. The boy was last to look at Penney, and he glanced upon her dully, as if only just remembering that she was even still in the room.

"Get in line, kid," She glowered.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

PENNEY LAUCIER HELD HER breath as she carefully tied the wraps that had been meant for her knuckles around the open wound that was now her mangled left foot. She had never seen an injury so ugly. She had never felt pain worse.

Out of the corner of her narrowed eyes, she could feel the Wraith watching her every move as she bandaged herself back up. Penney was unsure of how she could sense her now when she had not felt her approach in the hallway, but maybe that was how the Wraith operated. She chose when she wanted to be seen and when she wanted to be noticed, even if not done in such an obvious way as with speech. Perhaps the Wraith's guilt was too great for words. She could not make the apology form on her lips, so she would make it felt in her presence.

Either way, Penney still did not accept it.

Because had it really been necessary for the Wraith to impale her when she had already planned to also knock her out? What, had she expected the knife to actually hold Penney to the floor? The Wraith had to know that she was more stubborn than that. She was not one to give up. Countless times the Wraith had watched on as the Laucier girl nearly fell from the slippery rooftops of the Barrel and been forced into perilous situations where she would have likely been better to let go than to hold on. But that was never Penney's way. If the ground claimed her once, she would never get to touch the skies again.

The Wraith knew that no matter the obstacle that Penney would have found a way. So why try to incapacitate her? What had been so urgent that Penney had to be blocked from reaching the Conductor at all costs? It could not be a simple taunt that had pushed the Wraith over the edge. If it had, Penney would be dead. But she was not.

Minutes passed in silence, the Wraith watching her near-victim patiently, as Penney pulled her butchered boot back on her foot and tied the worn laces tight. She winced as she finished the final knot at the top of her ankle, but she needed her shoe to be as tightly compressed against her skin as possible. She needed to stabilize her wound as best as she could until she was able to better properly assess the damage that had been done.

It was only once Penney finally dared to set her foot back down on solid ground and test her weight from where she sat on the edge of the very armchair that the Conductor had been tied to that she finally spoke to her attacker. "You still haven't told me how you knew my name," She blurted. Her words came out thick and heavy, her tender throat still searing with the aftermath of such fiery pain that had left her windpipe clogged with tears.

The Wraith blinked, but otherwise did not move; she did not show any sign that she had acknowledged that she was being questioned. Then, in the softest voice, so unlike the hardness in her heart, she said, "Kaz told me."

Penney's nose wrinkled. "Kaz?" She repeated. What kind of name was Kaz?

"Perhaps more recognizable to you as 'kid'," a sharpened rasp of a voice interrupted, "which is what you so politely mistook me for."

Penney turned her head as the boy from earlier, now known to her as Kaz, reentered the room. He had stepped aside to speak privately with the Conductor, proclaiming aloud that the man was too important to let his wounds from the Wraith fester, but she had not believed that excuse for a minute. Kaz did not seem like the type to openly care for the matters of others. No matter, it was not like she could have followed him to stop him from his own personal interrogation with the Conductor. She could barely stand and her own injuries had needed tending to.

Now, in the calm crescendo of two unwarranted assaults, with her attention no longer so tunneled, and ferocious, and bloodied with anger for the Wraith, she could see that Kaz could not have actually been that much older than her. He also happened to be very sharply-dressed, clad in a pressed black suit and a matching dark fedora cap that covered his even darker shaded hair. He was dressed like a proper merchant of Ketterdam. Still, that did not stop her from saying back to him, "Perhaps your identity might not have been so easily mistaken if not for that oversized coat you wear."

Kaz glanced down at himself. Like the Wraith, he was dressed entirely in black, too. "It is a trench coat," He remarked.

"It is a tripping hazard," Penney huffed. There was no humor in her tone, only irritation for the way that the night had turned against her. "What do you want with me, Kaz?"

No time was wasted in Kaz's next statement. "Inej tells me that you have a brother in the Little Palace," He assessed, his gloved hands crossing slowly over the head of his crow cane.

"What of it?" She returned. There was no reason to deny it. Even if the Wraith had not told Kaz of Knox, he most certainly had to have heard Penney screaming bloody murder about him as he made his own way into the anarchic apartment.

"You came here tonight seeking out the Conductor. You need his help to cross the Shadow Fold," Kaz continued. "As do we."

Against her better judgement, she clambered to her feet and her body burned with pain. She did not know why she bothered with such a sign of attempted dominance, though, when Kaz had half a foot on her easily. "I'm not giving up my space on the Conductor's passenger list if that's where this conversation is going," She growled.

"Currently you have no space on his contraption." He carelessly shrugged. "But I do. In fact, I have more than enough space, and I am more than willing to offer you one of my seats for a simple charge."

"That is not up for you to decide," Penney argued. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"I take you for a desperate sister, willing to do whatever is necessary to have your dear brother back in your arms," Kaz responded with a sigh, sounding bored as he conversed with her, his standoffish attitude only infuriating her more, "which will only be possible if you do as I say."

"And that is?"

"I need you to get a message to your brother once we cross the Fold."

Penney shook her head incredulously. "That is impossible," She refuted. "He is a Grisha in the Little Palace. No notice from a simple civilian will reach him."

"I can assure you that no one will be concerned with Knox come tomorrow," Kaz contended. Penney barely had time to consider how he even knew her brother's name before he was continuing on, "Once you have made contact, you must encourage him to abandon his loyalty to the Second Army. It is the only way he will leave the Little Palace and openly confess what he knows regarding its security layout."

"What does that matter?" Penney questioned, but as soon as she asked the words aloud, realization dawned on her. "Are you attempting a heist on the Little Palace?" Kaz neither confirmed nor denied his intentions but his silence was answer enough for her and her eyes nearly bulged from her head. Penney could never imagine daring to infiltrate and invade and rob from the Little Palace. Sure, she had nifty little hands of her own and found great inspiration in thieves around her, but there was no one alive to tell the tale of how they might have evaded even the best of the world's Grisha because such a thing did not happen. No one survived an attempt like that. "What are you hoping to steal?" She scrutinized. "Something of the utmost importance to the Orders, I presume?"

"Not something," Kaz corrected. "Someone."

Penney rolled her eyes. "What you are demanding is ludicrous," She snapped. "You expect two soldiers of the Second Army to simply vanish into thin air without raising any alarm?"

"I expect your brother to, yes," He patently confirmed. "No one will waste their resources looking for him. Especially when they are already going to be spread so thin elsewhere."

"What makes you think that he will be easier to sneak out than the Grisha you're looking for?"

"Your brother is not the Sun Summoner."

At that, Penney laughed, but it was cold, and cruel, and absolute in its ferocity. "The Sun Summoner is a myth. A lie," She spat across at Kaz. He must truly take her for a fool. "A bedtime story for children."

"That is not true!"

The interrupting shout came from neither Kaz nor Penney, and while the former turned briefly at Inej's sudden and passionate exclamation, the latter did not spare the Wraith a glance. Her attention remained solely to Kaz, waiting for a fold in his demeanor. Finally, he turned back to face her. "A sandskiff was reported crossing the Fold with the aid of a Sun Summoner named Alina Starkov," He informed candidly. "If not for her, an entire crew of First and Second Army would have been lost."

Penney's expression twisted with hesitant confusion. Trips across the Fold were becoming less and less frequent amidst the growing war activity in Ravka. She rarely heard of sandskiff passages anymore, but any news that carried great importance regarding a violent altercation in the Fold always made its way back to Ketterdam eventually. Surely, if what Kaz claimed was true, she would have heard the rumor of a Sun Summoner's existence.

"Where is your proof?" She questioned.

"The proof is dead. Executed less than twelve hours ago," Kaz disclosed. "The same will happen to you if you do not choose your next words wisely."

"Are you threatening me?"

Kaz shook his head and beneath the black cap that sat atop his head, she saw several strands of darkened hair brush against his brow. "No. I'm promising you," He emphasized. "Any witness to this secret is bound by death to keep it." His black eyes never left Penney's own lightened ones as he took a step closer to her guardful figure. "To keep it is to help in the act of removing the Sun Summoner from Ravka. To break it is to turn away from the Little Palace, and your brother, and your life entirely."

A large part of her wanted to step away from his looming presence, but she held her ground. "What do I get in return?" She inquired.

"I do not think you are in the best position to be expecting a payout."

Penney's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "If you want my brother's help, then I am going to need your help to reach him," She maintained. A beat pressed on between them and then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "I also want a portion of the profit."

"There is no profit," Kaz denied.

"Then there should be no point in kidnapping the Sun Summoner," Penney countered bravely. "Alina Starkov is safest in Ravka. If taking her from the Little Palace is supposedly of your own free will, and of sincerest concern for her safety, would you not want her to remain with her own kind? I would think she would be better protected by Grisha than by a lowly Barrel boy and his reckless spy."

Kaz's eyes narrowed at her words, but Penney was not finished. "Come on, now," She urged darkly. "Say your job for what it is." Despite herself, she grinned, but it did not reach her eyes. Her smiles never did. They were malicious, and wicked, and dripped with poison. "It is not a removal nor is it a relocation of a refuge. It is a kidnapping. So, tell me, Kaz. How great is the bounty? Do not bother denying me an answer again." Her brushy, dirty-blonde hair shifted on her shoulder as she crossed her bloodied arms over her own chest. "What could be more important to someone than the destruction of the Fold and the promise of prosperity returned to Ravka, if they were not already sworn a large amount of currency that could change the way of one's own life forever? Personal greed over public peace, right?"

"Do not try to guilt me, Penney. I cannot be guilted," Kaz replied coldly. Even as his voice grew harder, his expression remained fixed. "I do not care about the greater world and its backing. I care about my world and its investments. I have no desire to see the undoing of the Fold. My interest lies with my million promised kruge." Penney's eyes widened then, and it was her surprise that would ultimately be her undoing. Before she could reign her emotions back in, Kaz was already exploiting them, turning her own covetous heart against herself. "Tell me, does that not entice you as well?" He hummed.

Penney would not deny that such an amount did not entice her. Anyone in their right mind would be foolish to turn down one million kruge when the cost to achieve it came at a simple exchange with a person one hardly knew. Reluctantly, bitterly, Penney found that she could understand the boy merchant in front of her. Kaz spoke of profit like Penney spoke of Knox, and she would let all of Ravka burn if it meant having her brother back.

Her mind was made up. Already she had lost too much control of this night. She would not let anything else be taken from her. "My brother for your Sun Summoner. Our resources for a piece of the kruge," She offered. "I do not expect a fortune. Just enough to send us on our way once it is all said and done."

Kaz contemplated her bartered words for a long moment, and she despised that she could not tell what he was thinking, even as he stared so boldly and openly down at her. Unlike the Wraith, Penney had not seen a single display of outward emotion from him. He might have glared at her, but she was beginning to think that the deadset scowl was permanently etched into his pale face.

Finally, he conceded. "The deal is the deal."

The boy held a gloved hand out to Penney, and she stared down at his outstretched arm for a long moment. Kaz's own eyes then shifted downward, too. To grab his hand was to solidify the deal as all traders did. But Penney was not a trader. She was a thief forced into a trader's position.

She shook her head.

"Handshakes are not promises," Penney asserted. "For all I know, you may already be sworn to betray me. And for all you know, I may have already chosen to cheat you. Let us see where we stand at the end of this journey. If we are both still drawing breath, I might then shake your hand in a final parting." She took a step back, into colder air, effectively pulling herself free of his trapping presence. "But I will not do it now."

Slowly, Kaz let his hand fall back to his side. He cleared his throat. "Fifth Harbor. Sunrise," He instructed her, the deepened rasp of his cold tone returning. "If you are not there when the ship sails off, then I would advise you to not be in Ketterdam at all when it returns to the dock."

Again with the threats. Or, as Kaz so egotistically put it only moments prior, the promises. Penney might have scoffed again if not for the fact that she was already holding her breath to contain how uncomfortable she felt. The adrenaline of her exchanges with the Wraith were undoubtedly subsiding, and pure and blatant pain had effectively taken over the more focused parts of her brain. She could feel the blood seeping through her rag bandages and pooling in her boot again.

She would need to take a visit to Little Ravka before she ever dared the long trek to Fifth Harbor. She would not make it more than five blocks without the help of a Healer, but she would not let anyone else know that. Penney Laucier was many things. Angry. Resentful. Cunning. Guarded. Injured. Shaken. But she was not weak. It would take much more than a simple knife to end her story here, forgotten in the cold shadows of a shady, fifth story apartment.

"I will be there at dawn, Kaz," Penney called over her stiffened shoulders as she began her painful descent down the dark and daunting hallway. She made sure to step carefully around the small puddle of her own drying blood as she went. "See you and your Wraith then."

~~~~~~~~~~

i had so much fun with this chapter.

penney has met kaz and inej!!! oh my goodness!!! i hope you enjoyed their interactions, i had so much fun writing them!! now, obviously, penney made some jabs at kaz and got away with it--but that's because he's not the kaz he is in the books yet.  remember, shadow and bone is a prequel for the crows, so kaz is younger.  he's sixteen.  he has not made his empire yet.  but boy, oh boy, is that a good thing otherwise kaz might have kicked penney's ass.  but he also needs her, so maybe not---anyways, i tried to stay as true to his character as i could and i hope that i did not disappoint.

on another note, if anyone is confused by their exchange, basically the deal is--the crows have to help penney rescue her brother in order for them to receive the aid and information that the brother will have on the little palace. as collateral for being somewhat forced/threatened to help the crows kidnap the sun summoner, the siblings are expected to receive a piece of the kruge fortune. wham bam, thank you, ma'am.

obviously it's going to get a lot more chaotic--but are the crows even the crows without their chaos and mayhem???

anyways, again, i hope you enjoyed this chapter.  how are we feeling about penney?  she's bold and bitter and big-headed, but its with reason!! she's a kid.  she's immature, even though she's been forced to grow up fast.  only teenagers actually can think that the world is at their feet.  she'll get her reckoning soon enough.

but for now, tell me what you're thinking!! miss penney meets jesper in the next chapter and i could not be more excited!! integration into the crows begins!!!  i appreciate all votes and comments of feedback!!

stay safe and stay well.

—B.