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“You think I’m dirty, too?” “If I thought you were dirty, you’d be holding your guts in on the floor of the Exchange like Big Bol, so stop running your mouth.”
But when she wanted to, Inej had a way of making you feel her silence. It tugged at your edges.
“You run book on prize fights, horses, and your own games of chance. You’ve been floor boss at the Crow Club for more than two years. You’re the youngest to ever run a betting shop, and you’ve doubled its profits in that time. You’re a blackmailer—” “I broker information.” “A con artist—” “I create opportunity.” “A bawd and a murderer—” “I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.” “And what cause is that?”
Van Eck’s gaze locked on his. “You’ve seen what this drug can do. I assure you it is just the beginning. If jurda parem is unleashed on the world, war is inevitable. Our trade lines will be destroyed, and our markets will collapse. Kerch will not survive it. Our hopes rest with you, Mister Brekker. If you fail, all the world will suffer for it.”
“Oh, it’s worse than that, Van Eck. If I fail, I don’t get paid.”
“Please.” Kaz heaved a sigh as he braced himself for three painful flights of stairs. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”
“Nina—” Inej murmured. “Don’t you start in on me.” “It will all work out. Let Kaz do what he does best.” “He’s horrible.” “But effective. Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot. You know what he is.” Nina crossed her arms. “I’m mad at you, too.” “Me? Why?” “I don’t know yet. I just am.”
“Boys like you weren’t meant to get ideas, Helvar,”
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.
“Do you know the secret to fighting a scorpion?” He laughed. “Talking nonsense, Wraith? Don’t die too quick. Need to get you patched up.” She crossed one ankle behind the other and heard a reassuring click.
She wore the pads at her knees for crawling and climbing, but there was another reason, too—namely, the tiny steel blades hidden in each of them. “The secret,” she panted, “is to never take your eyes off the scorpion’s tail.” She brought her knee up, jamming the blade between Oomen’s legs.
“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.
Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you for two days. “I want to make sure you know what you’ll be dealing with and that you’re studying the plans.”
Jesper was next, panting from his run back to the crossroads. He winked at her as she placed the sack over his head.
He hated that Inej had seen him this way, that anyone had, but on the heels of that thought came another: Better it should be her. In his bones, he knew that she would never speak of it to anyone, that she would never use this knowledge against him. She relied on his reputation. She wouldn’t want him to look weak. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there? Inej would never betray him. He knew it. Kaz felt ill. Though he’d trusted her with his life countless times, it felt much more frightening to trust her with this shame.
“Stop being dense. You’re cuter when you’re smart.”
“What is he doing?” asked Matthias. “Performing an ancient Zemeni ritual,” Kaz said. “Really?”
“No.”
“Grew up on a farm,” Jesper explained. “You don’t look it.” “Sure, I’m skinny,” he said as they hurried back through the stables, “but I stay drier in the rain.” “How?” “Less falls on me.”
Nina had wronged him, but she’d done it to protect her people. She’d hurt him, but she’d attempted everything in her power to make things right. She’d shown him in a thousand ways that she was honorable and strong and generous and very human, maybe more vividly human than anyone he’d ever known. And if she was, then Grisha weren’t inherently evil. They were like anyone else—full of the potential to do great good, and also great harm. To ignore that would make Matthias the monster.
As they roared past the streetlamps, people emerged from their houses to see what was happening. Nina tried to imagine what their wild crew must look like to these Fjerdans. What did they see as they poked their heads out of windows and doorways? A group of hooting kids clinging to a tank painted with the Fjerdan flag and charging along like some deranged float gone astray from its parade: a girl in
purple silk and a boy with red-gold curls poking out from behind the guns; four soaked people holding tight to the sides for dear life—a Shu boy in prison clothes, two bedraggled drüskelle, and Nina, a half-naked girl in shreds of teal chiffon shouting, “We have a moat!”
“I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”
“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.”
I’m going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I’m going to get my girl.
Some wrathful thing in this boy was begging to get loose, and Rollins didn’t want to be around when it slipped its leash.
Brekker’s grip was knuckle-crushing. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?” the boy asked. “Should I?” “Not just yet.” That black thing flickered behind Brekker’s eyes.
