Chapter Text
We. Can. Help. You.
Growing up, all of Kaz Rietveld’s favorite stories involved demons, particularly those in which demons were outsmarted by crafty young men. He would spend hours awake in the little room he shared with his brother, thinking of ways to trick some wily creature into parting with all their riches. He was always the first to see the loopholes and traps the heroes fell into and understand how words should have been smithed differently.
Demons, it seemed, were a lot smarter than nine-year-olds. His father would have said it was Ghezen’s retribution for his hubris. The truth was that Kaz didn’t know how he had ended up with the demon inside him. He only remembered those first words - We. Can. Help. You -, the cold claws sinking into his chest, squeezing his heart, pushing him to keep swimming, keep breathing. The demon never asked for anything in return.
Do. Not. Fight. Us. We. Can. Help. You.
Kaz had been afraid. But he had not fought the creature, and the demon had been with him ever since he crawled out of the Harbor. Ever since he let the waters take Jordie’s corpse away. It was a part of him now, a restless voice that demanded to be fed, preened and snapped its beak at shiny baubles and fed on souls and deals. It was wily and demanding but easily entertained with gossip and magic tricks.
Kaz loved it. Loved the power it gave him when he fought and the feeling of feathers against his skin. Loved crafting schemes and complicated plans with it. He loved his sturdy, calm demeanor and the rasp of its voice. He loved its company.
We. Are. Hungry.
Kaz flexed his gloved hands on the cane, mind spinning with half-finished schemes, lists of all the things that still needed to be done, machinations already in motion. He didn’t have time to go out of his way to get a soul for the demon, but after so many years, he knew better than to let it hunger for long.
“What do you want?”
Her.
He didn’t need to turn to know whom it meant. It had been asking for that sacrifice for over ten years. The answer was always the same.
“No.”
“Well, hello to you too,” snarked Inej, stepping out of the shadows to stand beside him.
“Dearest Inej,” said Kaz with a smile.
She rolled her eyes at him, gaze dropping to his bird-like shadow. It snapped its beak in frustration, and she took a step back.
We. Are. Hungry.
Kaz loved his demon. He loved the fear it painted on people’s faces, the challenge of keeping it contained, knowing that when people looked at him, they saw the power hiding in his black eyes. He loved it, except when it kept the people most important to him at arm's length.
“What business?”
Later, once she was gone, he would slip out into the night and find a soul for the demon to feast on. He would forge a deal with some pigeon to plunder them from all their earthly possessions. He would find some Liddies or Razorgulls to fight and let the demon dip its beak in fresh blood and death.
For now, he listened to Inej’s intel and felt the creature settle slightly with the gossip.
Kaz would never know how the demon had managed to trick him, but he understood that, without it, he would have died many times over, and if there was one thing Kaz loved more than the demon, than Kruge, than a puzzle, than his Dregs and his crows, more even than Inej, it was being alive.