Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

She felt it again, looking at him standing in the doorway, but when he held his hand out to her, she knew they were done with fear. She ran to him, and he swept her up in his arms.

Then he cupped her face in his hands. “Jer molle pe oonet. Enel mörd je nej afva trohem verretn.” Nina swallowed hard. She remembered those words and what they truly meant. I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath. It was the vow of the drüskelle to Fjerda. And now it was Matthias’ promise to her.

I’m taking my share, and I’m leaving the Dregs. When she’d talked about leaving Ketterdam before, he’d never quite believed her. This time was different.

They’re in trouble, Kaz had thought. Or you were dead wrong about Matthias, and you’re about to pay for all of those talking tree jokes.

They blew up the lab, he’d thought as debris rained down around him. I definitely did not tell them to blow up the lab.

Water had a voice. It was something every canal rat knew, anyone who had slept beneath a bridge or weathered a winter storm in an overturned boat – water could speak with the voice of a lover, a long-lost brother, even a god.

Numbers had always been his allies – odds, margins, the art of the wager. But now he had to rely on something more. What god do you serve? Inej had asked him. Whichever will grant me good fortune. Fortunate people didn’t end up racing ass over teakettle beneath an ice moat in hostile territory.

Kaz tumbled through the dark. He was colder than he’d ever been. 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.

He’d become Kaz Brekker, cripple and confidence man, bastard of the Barrel.

The gloves were his one concession to weakness. Since that night among the bodies and the swim from the Reaper’s Barge, he had not been able to bear the feeling of skin against skin. It was excruciating to him, revolting. It was the only piece of his past that he could not forge into something dangerous.

The sun was out for once, and Inej had turned her face to it. Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbour wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.

The pressure in his chest grew. I’m stronger than this, he told himself. My will is greater. But he could hear Jordie laughing. No, little brother. No one is stronger. You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

There was no one and nothing to carry him now. 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.

The ache in his lungs was unbearable. 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 were plenty of other diamonds she could have stolen for their purposes and other trouble she could have made to attract the guards’ attention. But it was Heleen she’d wanted to dupe. For all the secrets she’d gathered and documents she’d stolen and violence she’d done, it was Heleen Van Houden she’d needed to best.

Inej only regretted that she wouldn’t be there to see Tante Heleen discover her prized necklace was missing.

Jesper complained as he concentrated on the stones. “If I just break them down, they’ll lose their molecular structure. They have to be cut, carefully, the edges assembled into a single perfect drill bit. I don’t have the training—” “Whose fault is that?” put in Wylan, not looking up from his own work. “Again, not helpful.”

Then she was running, her feet light, her silks like feathers. In this moment she didn’t mind them. She’d duped Heleen Van Houden. She’d taken a little piece of her away, a silly symbol, but one she prized. It wasn’t enough – it would never be enough – but it was a beginning.

Her silks were feathers, and she was free.

She would have only one opportunity to grab for the iron lantern that hung from the ceiling of the enclosure. It was an impossible leap, a mad leap, but she was once again her father’s daughter, unbound by the rules of gravity. She hung in the air for a terrifying moment, and then her hands grasped the lantern’s base.

Jesper’s head appeared, hanging down from the dome. “You letting me drive?” “If you insist.” She moved aside so he could climb behind the controls. “Oh, hello, darling,” he said happily.

They’d come to the Ice Court scurrying like rats. Live or die, they were going out like an army.

“Saints, is he breathing?” asked Nina. Matthias flipped him onto his back none too gently and started pressing down on his chest with more force than was strictly necessary. “I. Should. Let. You. Die,” Matthias muttered in time with his compressions.

“You’re in shock, demjin,” Matthias said. “You almost drowned. You should have drowned.” Kaz coughed again, and his entire body shuddered. “Drowned,” he repeated. Nina nodded slowly. “Ice Court, remember? Impossible heist? Near death? Three million kruge waiting for you in Ketterdam?” Kaz blinked and his eyes cleared. “Four million.” “I thought that might bring you around.”

He was already dragging himself up the boulders that lined the far side of the gorge. “You can explain why our illustrious Shu scientist looks like one of Wylan’s school pals along the way.” Nina shook her head, caught between annoyance and admiration. Maybe that was what it took to survive in the Barrel. You could never stop.

“What do we do, Kaz?” “Wait,” he said as the sound grew louder. “How about ‘take cover’?” Nina asked, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. “‘Have heart’? ‘I stashed twenty rifles in this convenient shrubbery’? Give us something.” “How about a few million kruge?” said Kaz.

A tank rumbled over the hill, dust and gravel spewing from its treads. Someone was waving to them from its gun turret – no, two someones. Inej and Wylan were yelling and gesturing wildly from behind the dome.

When Nina looked at Kaz, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“We have a tank,” marvelled Nina. “Kaz, you creepy little genius, the plan worked. You got us a tank.” “They got us a tank.”

“We have one,” Matthias said, then pointed at the horde of metal and smoke bearing down on them. “They have a lot more.” “Yeah, but you know what they don’t have?” Kaz asked as Jesper rotated the tank’s giant gun. “A bridge.”

The quay should have been empty. Instead, it was crowded with troops, row after row of them in grey uniforms, two hundred soldiers at least – and every barrel of every gun was pointed directly at them.

“What is this?” Wylan asked Matthias. “You never said—” “They must have changed deployment procedure.” “Everything else was the same.” “I’ve never seen Black Protocol engaged,” Matthias growled. “Maybe they always had troops stationed in the harbour. I don’t know.” “Be quiet,” Inej said. “Just stop.”

“Kaz?” called Jesper from inside the tank. “This would be a really good time to say you saw this coming.” Kaz looked out over the sea of soldiers. “I didn’t see this coming.” He shook his head. “You told me one day I’d run out of tricks, Helvar. Looks like you were right.” The words were for Matthias, but his eyes were on Inej.

“I’ve had my fill of captivity,” she said. “They won’t take me alive.” “Me neither,” said Wylan. Jesper snorted from inside the tank. “We really need to get him more suitable friends.” “Better to go out with fists swinging than let some Fjerdan put me on a pike,” said Kaz. Matthias nodded. “Then we agree. We end this here.” “No,” Nina whispered. They all turned to her.

Nina spoke to Kuwei rapidly in Shu. “You don’t understand,” he replied. “A single dose—” “I understand,” she said. But the others didn’t. Not until they saw Kuwei produce a little leather pouch from his pocket. Its rim was stained with rust-coloured powder. “No!” Matthias shouted. He grabbed for the parem, but Nina was faster.

“Kaz is out of tricks.” She plucked open the pouch. “But I’m not.”

Brum lifted his gun and fired. The bullet struck Matthias directly in the chest. The pain was sudden and terrible – and then gone. Before his eyes, he saw the bullet emerge from his chest. It hit the ground with a plink. He pulled his shirt open. There was no wound.

Nina was walking past him. “No!” he cried. The drüskelle opened fire on her. He saw her flinch as the bullets struck her body, saw red blooms of blood appear on her chest, her breasts, her bare thighs. But she did not fall. As fast as the bullets tore through her body, she healed herself, and the shells fell harmlessly to the dock.

“There are other means,” said Brum, pulling a long whip like the one Lars had used from his belt. “Your power cannot touch us, witch, and our cause is true.” “I can’t touch you,” said Nina, raising her hands. “But I can reach them just fine.” Behind the drüskelle, the Fjerdan soldiers Nina had put to sleep rose, their faces blank.

“For my country,” she said. “For my people. For every child you put to the pyre. Reap what you’ve sown, Jarl Brum.”

Nina shifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were ferocious, the deep green of forests; the pupils, dark wells. The air around her seemed to shimmer with power, as if she was alight with some secret flame. “They fear you as I once feared you,” he said. “As you once feared me. We are all someone’s monster, Nina.”

Her hand shot out once more, and Brum shrieked. He clapped his hands to his head, blood trickling between his fingers. “He’ll live?” Matthias asked. “Yes,” she said as she stepped onto the schooner. “He’ll just be very bald.”

They’d been blessed with a strong wind. Inej felt it ripple through her hair and couldn’t help but think of the storm to come.

Nina buried her face in her coat’s woollen collar and said, “I wish you could see what I do. I can hear every body on this ship, the blood rushing through their veins. I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing when he looks at you.” “You … you can?” “It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”

“I didn’t think you’d let those men live, back at the harbour.” “I’m not sure it was the right thing to do. I’ll become one more Grisha horror story for them to tell their children.” “Behave or Nina Zenik will get you?” Nina considered. “Well, I do like the sound of that.”

Inej leaned back on the railing and peered at Nina. “You look radiant.” “It won’t last.” “It never does.” Then Inej’s smile faltered. “Are you afraid?” “Terrified.” “We’ll all be here with you.”

Inej had made countless alliances in Ketterdam, but few friends. She rested her head against Nina’s shoulder. “If I were a Suli seer,” she said, “I could look into the future and tell you it will be all right.”

Nina laughed softly. “Let’s buy the Menagerie.” Inej grinned, thinking of the future and her little ship. “Let’s buy it and burn it down.”

“I want to use my money to hire a crew and outfit a ship.” Saying the words wrapped her breath up in an anxious spool. Her dream still felt fragile. She didn’t want to care what Kaz thought, but she did. “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.”