Rule of Saints {The Red Ribbon Sequel}

Home Sweet Home

~ Y/N pov ~

Fifth Harbor smells of salt and the industrious fumes of Ketterdam. As our ship docks at berth 17, the stench fills my nose and I am hit with dozens of memories, even some that I would rather forget. Sneaking out of the Slat at night to go roof jumping with Inej, the cards games won and lost, my perch on Kaz's bedroom window. The way I cheated death too many times, laying helpless on my back as the same sickly stench of the city flooded my senses, trying to keep me alert.

A part of me aches for it all again, to relive the highs of our journeys and ignore the lows. But then I remember that I am happy in Ravka. I remember the urgency to leave Ketterdam, I was thought of as something to sell with a constant target on my back.

But then again, I'm a millionaire in this wretched city, under protection of the Dregs, the most powerful gang in the Barrel. And besides, if Kaz wanted me dead here, I would've been face down in the harbor two years ago.

Kaz immediately heads down West Stave, cane clicking in a steady rhythm on the ground. It is almost as if he gained some of his spirit back when he regained possession of his cane.

I call out to his back. "Where are you goin-"

"Coffee."

We all exchange a glance then shrug. Why not, we all seem to think. When in Ketterdam, you might as well blend into the crowds. We follow behind Kaz through the busy streets of West Stave and I nervously fidget with the red ribbon tied at the end of my braid. I forgot how confined the Barrel could be, I've gotten so used to big rooms and fields. It's like going down a rabbit hole.

We stop at the infamous waffle shop in the depths of the Barrel and crowd around one small table. Our anticipation seems almost tangible, we need to create a plan. But then again, this is our home city, we could go anywhere we want and get away with it, we know all of the nooks and crannies. I bounce my leg up and down as we sit in silence, until the moment when Kaz gets his large black coffee, steam rising into the humid air.

I pull sugar packets out of my pocket and toss them across the table to him. I may or may not have picked them up when we walked in. Kaz stares at me intently, then proceeds to pour the sugar into his cup.

As soon as he takes his first sip, all hell breaks loose.

"What's the plan?" Jesper asks.

"How long before the Darkling is here?" Wylan inquires.

"Can we use the Slat as a meeting point?" Inej proposes.

Kaz takes his time, savoring the haughty bitterness of Ketterdam coffee before answering. "Why are you all asking me? Y/N is obviously the ringleader on this job since she seemed to call the shots in Fjerda."

I huff at his jab. "Well, if anyone knows about Saints in this city, it is you, Kaz. You've got leverage on everybody here. So, what do you know that we don't?"

"You are correct. I do know a lot about everyone. Like how Jesper sings a Zemini folksong as he gets ready for bed, and how Nina clenches her hands into fists when she's nervous, whether she means to or not. I don't, however, know anything about Saints because there are none here in Ketterdam. Or anywhere, for that matter."

I kick his foot from underneath the table and he doesn't move an inch, just nonchalantly takes a sip of his coffee. Nina lays her hands flat on the table. "Ok enough banter between you two. Here's the plan. Y/N and I will go to Little Ravka and visit any Grisha refugees still hiding here. They may have the information we are looking for there. Does that sound good, Y/N?"

I am about to nod my head yes, but Kaz sets his coffee down loudly on the table. "No."

I stare at him. Is this a joke? He just said I am the ringleader here. "What do you mean 'no'?"