Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“He freed you from the Menagerie?” “There is no freedom in the Barrel, only good terms. Tante Heleen’s girls never earn out of their contracts. She makes sure they don’t. She—”

“Kaz convinced Per Haskell to pay off my indenture. I would have died at the Menagerie.”

“You may still die in the Dregs.” Inej’s dark eyes had glinted. “I may. But I’ll die on my fe...

“Jesper was supposed to wait until three bells,”

“It is three bells, Kaz,”

“Since when is Jesper punctual?” the boy complained with a glance at his watch. “On your feet, Helvar.”

You’ve never seen a fighter survive until now, he corrected himself. The bronze girl’s daggers merit watching.

“You were early, Jesper,” Kaz said as he nudged Matthias towards the boat. “I was on time.” “For you, that’s early. Next time you plan to impress me give me some warning.” “The animals are out, and I found you a boat. This is when a thank you would be in order.” “Thank you, Jesper,” said Nina. “You’re very welcome, gorgeous. See, Kaz? That’s how the civilised folk do.”

He didn’t know what history they were chewing on, but they’d probably kill each other before they ever got to Fjerda.

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.

“Let me get this straight,” said Jesper. “You want us to let the Fjerdans lock us in jail. Isn’t that what we’re always trying to avoid?”

Sometimes the big ones didn’t know when to stay down.

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

Many boys will bring you flowers. But some day you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favourite flower, your favourite song, your favourite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.

She remembered the first time she’d seen him at the Menagerie.

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

Matthias suspected that Brekker would drag the girl back from hell himself if he had to.

“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.

He’d even dubbed her the Wraith.

He’d helped her build a legend to wear as armour, something bigger and more frightening than the girl she’d been.

“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. Did you really swim all those miles just to die in this hut?”

“I hate the way you talk.”

He’d lied. He did like the way she talked.

“I’ve broken into banks, warehouses, mansions, museums, vaults, a rare book library, and once the bedchamber of a visiting Kaelish diplomat whose wife had a passion for emeralds. But I’ve never had a cannon shot at me.”

“Those guns are there to stop invading armadas,”

“Good luck hitting a skinny little schooner cutting through the waves bound for fortune and glory.”

“I’ll quote you on that when a cannonball lands in my...

“So we have to unlock, unchain, and incapacitate six prisoners, take their places, and somehow get the wagon sealed tight again without the guards or the other prisoners being the wiser?” “That’s right.” “Any other impossible feats you’d like us to accomplish?”

“I’ll make you a list.”

Though he’d trusted her with his life countless times, it felt much more frightening to trust her with this shame.

want you to join the Dregs.” “Doing what?” “Gathering information. I need a spider to climb the walls of Ketterdam’s houses and businesses, to listen at windows and in the eaves. I need someone who can be invisible, who can become a ghost. Do you think you could do that?” I’m already a ghost, she thought. I died in the hold of a slaver ship.

She would hunt the slavers and their buyers. They would learn to fear her, and they would know her by her name.

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

“Saints,” he said. Inej grimaced. “That bad?” “No, you just have really ugly feet.”

“Ugly feet that got you on this roof.”

A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.

What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking?

Wylan gestured to the guards. “Is it safe to leave them, you know—” “Alive? I’m not big on killing unconscious men.” “We could wake them up.”

He thought of Inej’s hand on his cheek. His mind had gone jagged at the sensation, a riot of confusion. It had been terror and disgust and – in all of that clamour – desire, a wish that lingered still, the hope that she would touch him again.

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

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

He tried to think of his brother, of revenge, of Pekka Rollins tied to a chair in the house on Zelverstraat, trade orders stuffed down his throat as Kaz forced him to remember Jordie’s name. But all he could think of was Inej. She had to live. She had to have made it out of the Ice Court. And if she hadn’t, then he had to live to rescue her.

He needed to tell her … what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near. He needed to thank her for his new hat.

There would be other bawds to trick, slavers to fool. Her silks were feathers, and she was free.

“I’m going to hunt slavers.” “Purpose,” he said thoughtfully. “You know you can’t stop them all.” “If I don’t try, I won’t stop any.” “Then I almost pity the slavers,” Kaz said. “They have no idea what’s coming for them.”

Inej turned to go. Kaz seized her hand, keeping it on the railing. He didn’t look at her. “Stay,” he said, his voice rough stone. “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.” She looked down at his gloved hand clutching hers. Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she’d been through. “What would be the point?” He took a breath. “I want you to stay. I want you to … I want you.” “You want me.” She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his hand. “And how will you have me, Kaz?” He looked at her then, eyes fierce, mouth set. It was the face he wore when he was fighting. “How will you have me?” she repeated. “Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch?” He released her hand, his shoulders bunching, his gaze angry and ashamed as he turned his face to the sea. Maybe it was because his back was to her that she could finally speak the words. “I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

I’m going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I’m going to get my girl.