More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
He had become a great beast, and yet that beast would devour him. His prayers turned to screams, but both went unanswered.
Why did they all call it a job? It didn’t feel like working. It felt like missing a step and suddenly finding yourself falling. It felt like panic.
The real question was why Jesper did it all without hesitating. Maybe he was still looking for Kaz’s approval, hoping to earn back his favor after Jesper’s slip had led them into the ambush at the docks that had nearly cost Inej her life. Or maybe Jesper wanted something more than forgiveness from Kaz.
I’m a good man, he’d shouted. I’m a good man. They were the last words he’d spoken. If he’d talked less, he might have lived.
Bajan was never rough or abrupt. It wasn’t in his nature. In fact, she suspected it was beyond the capabilities of his manicured musician’s hands.
I’m going to cut you open, she vowed silently. I’m going to excavate that pathetic excuse of a heart from your chest.
Kaz was still punishing him
“What good is a shooter without his guns?” Kaz asked, seemingly oblivious to the way Jesper’s smile collapsed.
Around Pekka, he lost the shape of who he was—no, he lost the shape of who he’d fought to become.
just as bad as any Barrel thug—worse, because his word was worth nothing.
“The Saints hear prayers wherever they’re spoken.” “And answer them according to their moods?” “What you want and what the world needs are not always in accord, Kaz. Praying and wishing are not the same thing.”
You are like food that spoils too easily. I can’t even put you on a shelf somewhere to keep without making a stink.
She was a nice girl, but that was the whole problem—she was only a few years older than Wylan. He wasn’t sure how his father could walk down the street beside her without shame.
He’d been eight when his mother had been sent away. He didn’t have to wonder anymore; that was when his father had given up on him.
You’re not a good man, she’d shouted. You’re a good soldier, and the sad thing is you don’t even know the difference.
Inej felt somewhat startled to discover how very hard the earth was, that it would not soften or bend for her.
Sure, a lock was like a woman. It was also like a man and anyone or anything else—if you wanted to understand it, you had to take it apart and see how it worked. If you wanted to master it, you had to learn it so well you could put it back together.
“It’s shame that lines my pockets, shame that keeps the Barrel teeming with fools ready to put on a mask just so they can have what they want with no one the wiser for it. We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”
She’s better than me. The knowledge had the taste of rot, as if Inej had bitten into a tempting fruit and found it foul.
“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges, Rollins.”
But he would sell himself in the pleasure houses of West Stave before he’d ask for his father’s mercy.
“I am grateful you’re alive,” he said. “I am grateful you’re beside me. I am grateful that you’re eating.”
“What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?” “Who the hell is Jordie?”
“My trust? You had it and you shot it to pieces because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
“I didn’t raise you to be a gambler, Jesper. I certainly didn’t raise you to be a criminal.” Jesper released a bitter huff of laughter. “I love you, Da. I love you with all my lying, thieving, worthless heart, but yes, you did.”
His knuckles brushed against her skin and lightning cracked through him, left him paralyzed, rooted to the earth. His heart should not be making that sound. Maybe he would never get to the Slat. Maybe this would kill him.
Two of the deadliest people the Barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both of them keeling over.
Kaz’s cane was gone. He spread his gloved hands wide. Again Inej thought of a magician. Nothing up my sleeves.
ALL HE COULD’VE BEEN
“Someone I trusted.” He looked over his shoulder and met Jesper’s gray eyes. “Someone I didn’t want to lose.”
He did not want that memory tangling with this room full of rot.
As a little boy, Kaz had held his breath whenever he’d passed a graveyard, certain that if he opened his mouth, something terrible would crawl in.
“Alone,” Kaz said, looking at the man’s fingertips. Something had been gnawing at them. The rats had gotten to him before his body was found. Or one of his pets.
Wylan ran his tongue over his lips and spat in his father’s face.
Maybe he should have pretended to break sooner.
Kaz had told her they would know the sound, that they would heed it like children called home by a stern parent.
The plague could not be stopped with guns or money. It could not be reasoned with or prayed away.
Innocence was a luxury, and Inej did not believe her Saints demanded it.
That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.
“We were all supposed to make it,” said Wylan softly.
“Ketterdam is made of monsters. I just happen to have the longest teeth.”
She would fight for him, but she could not heal him. She would not waste her life trying.
He still couldn’t remember the name of Brekker’s brother.
