Elora Van Eck | Kaz Brekker

TWENTY-ONE | THE PLAN

***

  k a z

  THE TEA HAD ALREADY BECOME COLD. Even so, Kaz did not even realize the receding steam that had once danced over the cup's rim.

  If you looked up fatigue in a lexicon, you would discover the meaning of it to be Kaz Brekker. His vacant eyes were fixed on the wall next to his office door. There was no noise to be heard. His fists were tensed and resting in his lap. Only the delicate rise and fall of his chest stated that he was alive. And he lost himself in sentiments that threw a duvet of anxiety over him.

  He had not glanced into Elora's eyes or heard her voice in years. And yet shortly the two of them would be facing one another. As unreal as that may seem, Kaz had not ever envisioned this reunion. The young thief's entire life was a meticulously planned timeline with no discrepancies. This was the sole matter he avoided as fear welled up at his fingertips.

  What if Elora decided she did not want to see him again? What if she despised him? He had never been bothered by the loathing people had for him, but Elora - he feared it would disintegrate even his heart of concrete. But he could not ignore the inevitable any longer.

  Kaz's thoughts motored through his childhood, but before they could rouse the traumatic incident, the door swung open and Jesper stepped into the room unaddressed. His gaze was unintelligible and Kaz matched it, for, Brekker's eyes too were coated in an icy layer that gave no indication of his previously frolicking thoughts.

  Jesper confronted Kaz with his spine straight and his steps slow, his gaze impassive as if to radiate superiority. He reached out and positioned a lengthy, wooden object on Kaz's desk. "As good as new," he told, confirming the repaired cane.

  Kaz raised his eyebrows in reply to the unforeseen gesture. His stare drifted to Jesper before returning to his beloved cane as if to ensure the moment was true. Eventually, he reached for it with care, his leathery fingers driving over the seamless timber, over the spot in which the break should have left a scar. But it did not exist. The crow, which fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, was free of any blemishes.

  Kaz pressed himself to his feet, trialing the stick's resilience. He stepped around the desk, clutching the crow.

  Instinctually, Jesper backtracked a few steps. To grant the thief space or to keep his distance for selfish purposes, he did not know.

  "As good as new," Kaz said, echoing the shooter's previous statement. Then he cleared his throat, the words sticking in his throat like a blob. "Jesper," he began, but an uneasiness warped his stomach as he looked Jesper in his expectant eyes. So, he decided to throw his concise idea of morality out the window and spoke a wholly distinct sentence instead. "Inform the others there will be a meeting in ten minutes. I have an important announcement to make."

  Jesper gave a brief nod before mutely stepping away.

  The air burst through Kaz's lungs like a hurricane, as if he had been holding his exhale for several minutes. And the loathing he felt for himself stuffed every nerve, funneling through his veins and shredded his heart. But the boy had perfected the art of disregarding.

***

  THE ONLY NOISES that hung in the air were the irate tapping of fingers on the large wooden table and the jittery clearing of throats by those present.

  Kaz let his gaze gradually sweep over the entire group until the tension became intolerable. "We will travel to Shu Han," he declared sharply and was immediately confronted with dubious looks. Wylan was the sole one whose demeanor pledged assurance in Kaz's utterances, for the curly-haired man had already been initiated.