From the Bookshelf of Ranters and Reviewers…

A perfect solution, but the Ketterdam weather was not cooperating. There'

A perfect solution, but the Ketterdam weather was not cooperating. There'd been no breeze off the harbor that day, and a gray milk fog had wreathed the city's canals and crooked alleys in damp. Even here among the mansions of the Geldstraat, the air hung thick with the smell of fish and bilge water, and smoke from the refineries on the city's outer islands had smeared the night sky in a briny haze. The full moon looked less like a jewel than a yellowy blister in need of lancing.

"I'm a businessman," he'd told her. "No more, no less."
"You're a thief, Kaz."
"Isn't that what I just said?"

Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger and disappeared belowdecks.

“Besides, she was the Wraith – the only law that applied to her was gravity, and some days she defied that, too.”

She was not a lynx or a spider or even the Wraith. She was Inej Ghafa, and her future was waiting above.

Nina just liked to flirt with everything. He’d once seen her make eyes at a pair of shoes she fancied in a shop window.

We are all someone's monster.

"It's not natural for women to fight."
"It's not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand."

Jesper knocked his head against the hull and cast his eyes heavenward. “Fine. But if Pekka Rollins kills us all, I’m going to get Wylan’s ghost to teach my ghost how to play the flute just so that I can annoy the hell out of your ghost.”
Brekker’s lips quirked. “I’ll just hire Matthias’ ghost to kick your ghost’s ass.”
“My ghost won’t associate with your ghost,” Matthias said primly, and then wondered if the sea air was rotting his brain.

"Always hit where the mark isn't looking."
"Who's Mark?" asked Wylan.

"You could be stuck like this."
“Why does it matter?”
“I don’t know!” Jesper said angrily. “Maybe I liked your stupid face.”

“The life you live, the hate you feel—it’s poison. I can drink it no longer.”

She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have.

“I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.”

“Stay,” she panted. Tears leaked from her eyes. “Stay till the end.”
“And after,” he said. “And always.”
“I want to feel safe again. I want to go home to Ravka.”
“Then I’ll take you there. We’ll set fire to raisins or whatever you heathens do for fun.”
“Zealot,” she said weakly.
“Witch.”
“Barbarian.”
“Nina,” he whispered, “little red bird. Don’t go.”

“Nina Zenik, as soon as I figure out where you’ve put my knives, we’re going to have words.”
“The first ones had better be Thank you, oh great Nina, for dedicating every waking moment of this miserable journey to saving my sorry life.”
Jesper expected Inej to laugh and was startled when she took Nina’s face between her hands and said, “Thank you for keeping me in this world when fate seemed determined to drag me to the next. I owe you a life debt.”
Nina blushed deeply. “I was teasing, Inej.” She paused. “I think we’ve both had enough of debts.”
“This is one I’m glad to bear.”
“Okay, okay. When we’re back in Ketterdam, take me out for waffles.”
Now Inej did laugh. She dropped her hands and appeared to speculate. “Dessert for a life? I’m not sure that seems equitable.”
“I expect really good waffles.”
“I know just the place,” said Jesper. “They have this apple syrup—”
“You’re not invited.”

“I’m a very valuable investment.”
“Tell me he didn’t say that.”
“Of course he did. Well, not the valuable part.”
“Idiot.”
“How’s Matthias?”
“Also an idiot.”

“Matthias the tulip."
"The big, brooding, yellow tulip.”

“If only you could talk to girls in equations.”
There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they’d created in the link, Wylan said, “Just girls?”
Jesper restrained a grin. “No. Not just girls.”

Kaz leaned back. "What's the easiest way to steal a man's wallet?"
"Knife to the throat?" asked Inej.
"Gun to the back?" said Jesper.
"Poison in his cup?" suggested Nina.
"You're all horrible," said Matthias.

No mourners. No funerals. Among them, it passed for 'good luck'.

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured.
Jesper nodded. “Definitely.”

“The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.”