Chapter Text
Black Veil Cemetery was as inviting on a rainy day as it was any other. The overgrown path was no clearer during this particular storm than it was in twilight. Any semblance of an image this place tried to uphold, other than a place for the long-interred, had eroded with the waters of time and drifted down the canal.
Kaz Brekker stepped off the canal boat with a click of his cane and the heft of his good leg. He proceeded past the once manicured landscape of the island's entrance, not giving so much as a glance back to the boatman. He knew he would be waiting for Kaz's return. Kaz almost felt sorry for him, this ferryman had served him well the last few decades. He had never questioned Kaz's preference for nighttime rides, or why Kaz looked exactly the same as he did when he had first boarded the riverboat some twenty years ago. Perhaps it was because Kaz made sure he didn't think to question it, always directing his train of thought away from that track to something far shinier. The man took to suggestion well, to Kaz's great relief, and had provided useful enough when Kaz needed quick passage around his domain.
He would feel sorry for his dinner later, right now he was making a very important visit.
The varied grave markers and headstones that now populated his surroundings may as well have not been there, the lack of attention Kaz paid them.They may as well have been the temples at Ahmet Jen, or the Little Palace for how little he cared to look their way, acknowledge those whose were lucky enough to pass from this place.
Soon enough, a fork formed in the pathway and Kaz paused. One way would lead to the Queen's Lady Plague memorial, where Kaz knew the first man he had called brother was memorialized. dark and bold carved marks would spell the name "Jordan Johannus Rietveld" atop smooth red granite, along with countless other names Kaz didn't care to read.
One line. For his older brother. Jordie would be over a century if the same fate that had befallen Kaz had found him in time. Kaz bit his lip at the idea, looking down at the dirt some feet in front of him. He could imagine Jordie, albeit faintly. His long curly hair that framed his smiling face and had been Kaz's only source of hope for so long after their father's passing. The image of Jordie felt more like a dream these days. Kaz had begun to visit the Firepox memorial to remind himself that his brother had existed as much as he did to memorialize him. Sometimes, when his heart was low and the silence unbearable, he even found himself speaking to the engraved letters. Telling them about the memories he had dreamt about Lij.
The other would lead to more private mausoleums. The more well-to-do entitled snobby class of a bygone era. Kaz looked down the path and envisioned its end. soaring past names he had learned and despised and conned and rinse and repeated throughout his reign. But at the end, at the very end of the path was one of newer make.
Inej can't be the only one with a cool ship, Kaz!
Jesper had been insistent.
The Van Eck's plot was nothing to laugh at. Wylan's family went back generations, and all of them down to Jan had been very sure to make sure the world knew they were a family of old money, and values. Wylan had been the change, his father's nightmare, and the crows saving grace on countless occasions. So when the day did come and some marcher or other had paid to have Jan Van Eck's beaten broken corpse carted-nayescorted -back from Hellgate prison to fill the final space in one of the mausoleums, Marya, Wylan, and by extension Jesper were faced with a conundrum. A grim reminder, but a conundrum nonetheless.
Jesper took to it like a fish to water, "I want it to look cool."
Kaz had been the sole "Shut up, Jesper."
"What's wrong with having a cool grave, eh?" Jesper rebutted, "I think since they'll no longer get to see this gorgeous face, they might as well getsomething cool to look at."
Wylan had grabbed Jesper's hand in consolation, "I know, Jes. But the cemetery does have...guidelines. They have a certain image to uphold."
"Bah, cemeteries, they suck the fun out of everything."
Kaz remembered smirking at his brother, and letting his canines glisten in the candlelight, "That's my job."
Now Kaz stood before the Bookshelf.
The Bookshelf was an ornately carved block of marble, polished and glistened in the falling rain. between carvings of books there were five objects, one on the top shelf, and two on the next with one on the third, with room on the very bottom two shelves.
A vase of lilies, made of the same stone as the shelf itself, sat on top.
Marya, Kaz nodded.
On the next shelf, a scale model of The Wraith sat beside a metronome.
Jes, Wylan. Kaz tipped his hat in slight acknowledgement.
A pure white granite carving of a knife, with a pattern of roses at its hilt.
Inej.Not all of her. But Inej had instructed her crew that, should her Saints call her home, some of her ashes should return to Ketterdam, to be with her family, some should be returned to Ravka, to be handled according to Suli tradition by any caravan traveling along the coast. While the rest should be put to sea, in hopes some unfortunate slaver would choke down the wrong water and die by her hand, even after her own death.
"Sorry I'm late." He whispered, his breath puffing out before him in clouds that quickly vanished, "I'm usually the one who's on time."
Rain continued to echo around him.
"This is-" Fruitless? A mistake? A silly tradition, a habit he had formed? Without meaning to? A weakness that could be exploited by any that dared to try him? All of these answers rang true.
Kaz closed his eyes, the rain continuing on around him as he tried to gather himself.
"Jesper, Wylan, Marya," Kaz cleared his throat, "You'll be happy to learn little Rayla has been accepted into the University of Ketterdam's honors program. She told me to thank her grandpas and Gigi Marya for her, and I am a man of my word."
His eyes fell to the recreation of Inej's blade. As all aspects of the Bookshelf were, it was fabricator made and sealed to the shelf to prevent thieves from getting any ideas. Kaz hated that he fell into that category, and not just because he was a world-class thief.
He would giveanything to hold her. His absolute revolution for skin to skin contact be damned. The world was much darker without Inej Ghafa in it, and Kaz's world was in permanent night for lack of her.
He reached a hand out, shakily touching the hilt of the blade. His eyes closed as memories flashed before him.
"Kaz, come on! You've got to see this". Inej was laughing. The very sound softened his shoulders and made his chest rise. As he looked up from the folder in front of him, he saw she had opened the curtain of his room, and the sunlight, however muted, was streaming in.
"Yes it's wonderful." Kaz replied, his gaze returning regretfully to the paperwork before him. He was stood, resting back against his desk, trying to figure out why if his heart no longer needed to beat, it did so heavily for his Wraith.
"Oh come on, you didn't even look!" She teased, "Come over here! Quick!"
He had planted the file down on his desk with a mostly sarcastichumph,stepping carefully as to remain out of the sun's line of sight.
"Oh yes, yes. Truly amazing."
Inej tilted her head in disappointment, "You've not looked. Come here!"
Inej Ghafa was the one person Kaz trusted with many of his secrets, including why he donned gloves for every moment of every day and night. So when she linked elbows with him, and yanked him closer to the window, that was not why Kaz reacted the way he did.
No. When Kaz Brekker was pulled into full light of his window, he did not yell out and quickly cower behind his gloved hands and long dress sleeves from the shielded touch of Inej Ghafa. He did so because the sun scorched him down to each and every vein in his body.
He didn't even see what Inej had wanted him to.
He stumbled over his bad leg and had ended up arse-first on his floor, out of the sunlight, but still covering his eyes in an attempt to recover from what felt like staring and walking through fire incarnate.
That's when she had found out. What he was.
And he had never dreaded being this way as he did in that moment. It had never made him feel so grotesque, so monstrous as it did when Inej looked down at him with a blend of confusion, concern, and the dash of fear he would never forget.
"I'm sorry." Was all he had managed. An apology.
Now he stood before the Bookcase, decades removed from the day of the crows on the sill.
"I'm sorry." He choked out, not realizing how shaken he was until he had tried to speak.
A smell came on the wind. Cooked fish and vegetables, and plenty of whiskey. His ferryman. He hadn't moved, but Kaz's instincts were calling for him once more. Smelling of the sea and sip, Kaz could feel his stomach demanding his attention. Something deeper, something at the core of him something else was crawling to the surface with every second he went without eating. Soon instinct would take over, and Kaz didn't know when he would return to visit his family.
'No mourners," He repeated, before hurrying back from whence he came.
Still no reply came.
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