no mourners

Inej waits until the creak-thud-creak of Kaz's footsteps fade before she lets the tears fall.

It's not fair, she wants to scream. Every single member of her crew stepped foot onto The Wraith because they believed in her mission, but most of all, because they believed in her. They wanted to help people, and all Inej has achieved are their premature deaths.

How many died in the blast? How many tried to swim and were dragged down by the current? How many were trapped in the wreckage and dragged down with The Wraith?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she uses the same tricks she learnt after the Menagerie to bring herself back down to the ground. Even after washing down the rest of the glass of water on her bedside, she can taste the lingering salt that means a Corporalki purged the True Sea from her lungs. The duvets at Jesper and Wylan's house are the criminally heavy, feather-soft types that only the richest merchers can afford. The room is quiet, but she can hear plates clattering in the distance as someone prepares dinner.

She's safe.

And she's alone.

A sob escapes her, and she claps a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. The Fahey Mansion is so ridiculously large there's little chance anyone will hear her, but she wouldn't put it past Kaz to sneak back outside her room to listen in.

Saints, the way he looked at her. Mussed hair. Stiff posture, as though he was sitting in that chair for hours. Fingers twitching, always ready to solve the next problem.

But still, beyond all that, she saw the water swirling in his eyes. Pity, warring with the knowledge that she didn't want his sympathy. He knew what it was like to lose someone to the waves, and she couldn't bear the guilt. He had fought his way out to Hellgate to her, single-handedly rowed her to safety, given her his gloves, and she hadn't even bothered to reply to his letters over the past two years.

Oh, she heard about Kaz's adventures. At Zoya's coronation, Nikolai had told her all kinds of crazy stories about Dirtyhands and the heist he'd helped with, sandwiched between all the tips he'd picked up during his time as a privateer and the longing glances he kept shooting in the Queen's direction.

She'd written to Jesper and Wylan sporadically, to reassure them that she was still alive, and to her parents once a month, so that she never fell back out of contact with them. But no matter how many times Kaz left her intel on her next target or updates on what was happening in Ketterdam, she never replied.

Until his latest note.