[ Realistically, he should be thinking about the plan. Fjerda and its impenetrable Ice Court are only a handful of days away and he has to make sure every piece is committed to memory. Matthias had gone over the floor plan earlier, pointing out the layers so they could label them on the map. Wylan has been hard at work drafting up sketches of the gate mechanisms, drawings Kaz wants to remember just in case.
And really, it's not like he hasn't been working on the plan. He's been disseminating information to the group, divvying out who was going where at what times. It's just—when he isn't and he's left to his own devices, his mind is in complete disarray. It loops around and around to Inej's words, to the choking fear, to the sheer idiocy for leaving her to sit on the floor.
He's staring out at the ocean, the water dark and relatively calm. On some level, it makes him want to scream. Why should it be so placid when he feels the way he does? Like she'd driven one of her daggers straight into the softest parts and now they threatened to bleed all over.
Get a grip. He can't fall apart, not with everything that's at stake. This job will set them all free in some manner. Jesper from his debts, Inej from her contract, Nina and Matthias from the mistake that had put him in Hellgate. And for him, it put him several steps closer to ending Pekka Rollins for good. To burying him, like he hadn't been able to for Jordie.
Hands clenched on the ship ledge, he bows his head, staring at the way the lamp light flickers across the leather. There's an itch, then, between his shoulder blades. The one that tells him Inej is nearby, bringing her silence with her. ]
"I can help you." [ The first words she'd ever said, imprinted on his skin. He's tried denying it, thinking it could be the dozens of people who have said the same. Somehow, he knew that wasn't the case and she'd confirmed it. ]
no subject
And really, it's not like he hasn't been working on the plan. He's been disseminating information to the group, divvying out who was going where at what times. It's just—when he isn't and he's left to his own devices, his mind is in complete disarray. It loops around and around to Inej's words, to the choking fear, to the sheer idiocy for leaving her to sit on the floor.
He's staring out at the ocean, the water dark and relatively calm. On some level, it makes him want to scream. Why should it be so placid when he feels the way he does? Like she'd driven one of her daggers straight into the softest parts and now they threatened to bleed all over.
Get a grip. He can't fall apart, not with everything that's at stake. This job will set them all free in some manner. Jesper from his debts, Inej from her contract, Nina and Matthias from the mistake that had put him in Hellgate. And for him, it put him several steps closer to ending Pekka Rollins for good. To burying him, like he hadn't been able to for Jordie.
Hands clenched on the ship ledge, he bows his head, staring at the way the lamp light flickers across the leather. There's an itch, then, between his shoulder blades. The one that tells him Inej is nearby, bringing her silence with her. ]
"I can help you." [ The first words she'd ever said, imprinted on his skin. He's tried denying it, thinking it could be the dozens of people who have said the same. Somehow, he knew that wasn't the case and she'd confirmed it. ]
You've never been just an investment.