Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“I like it when men beg,” she said. “But this isn’t the time for it.”

But the pocket watch and tie pin told Kaz all he needed to know: Heavy links of laurel leaves made up the watch’s gold fob, and the pin was a massive, perfect ruby.

“You said you gave the drug to a Grisha from each Order. Mikka’s a Tidemaker—he’s your Etherealnik. The Fabrikator who mocked up that gold was a Materialnik. So what happened to the Corporalnik? The Healer?”

What the fuck is happening

Kaz pulled on a clean pair of gloves, snapped up his walking stick, and headed out the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Move the DeKappel we lifted from Van Eck’s house to the vault. I think it’s rolled up under my bed. Oh, and put in an order for a new hat.”

This was what the men of Hellgate competed for: a private cell, a blanket, clean water, a bucket for waste.

Kaz leaned back in his chair, one knee bent, his bad leg stretched out before him. “Why do you think I’ve been keeping you around?” “I’m good at demo.” “You’re passable at demo. You’re excellent at hostage.”

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.

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. He shrieked and released her, hands going to his bleeding groin.

“Hold him,” he told Jesper and the Fjerdan. Kaz flicked his coat sleeve, and an oyster shucking knife appeared in his hand. At any given time he had at least two knives stashed somewhere in his clothes. He didn’t even count this one, really—a tidy, wicked little blade. He made a neat slash across Oomen’s eye—from brow to cheekbone—and before Oomen could draw breath to cry out, he made a second cut in the opposite direction, a nearly perfect X. Now Oomen was screaming. Kaz wiped the knife clean, returned it to his sleeve, and drove his gloved fingers into Oomen’s eye socket. He shrieked and twitched as Kaz yanked out his eyeball, its base trailing a bloody root. Blood gushed over his face. Kaz heard Wylan retching. He tossed the eyeball overboard and jammed his spit-soaked handkerchief into the socket where Oomen’s eye had been. Then he grabbed Oomen’s jaw, his gloves leaving red smears on the enforcer’s chin.

Jesper looked at the gray swells of the sea, marching to the horizon in endless formation. He’d never liked the ocean, the sense of the unknown beneath his feet, that something hungry and full of teeth might be waiting to drag him under. And that was how he felt every day now, even on land.

“Kaz is … I don’t know, he’s like nobody else I’ve ever known. He surprises me.” “Yes. Like a hive of bees in your dresser drawer.”

Margit gave them milk tea and warm pancakes with sour cream and jam.

Why does all of the food sound so good!?

“Shhh. This is difficult.” She dabbed the drops onto her fingers and held them close to his eyes. “Why can’t you just put them in?” “Why can’t you stop talking? Do you want me to blind you?” He stopped talking.

“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?”

“Closer, drüskelle,” she crooned, taunting. He threw an arm over her, hooking her back against his chest. She let out a startled oof and shifted uneasily.

“Everything. Stuffed cabbage, potato dumplings, black currant cakes, blini with lemon zest. I can’t wait to see Zoya’s face when I come walking into the Little Palace.”

“Right,” said Nina. “I can feel just how much you hate sleeping next to me. I feel it every morning.” Matthias flushed bright scarlet. “Why do you have to say things like that?”

This isn’t right, Nina thought miserably. Practicing the Small Science made a Grisha healthier, stronger. It was one of the things she loved most about her power. But the body had limits. It was as if the drug had caused Nestor’s power to outpace his body. It had simply used him up.

“I like not worrying about being snatched up by a slaver or put to death by some skiv like our friend Helvar here. Besides, I have other skills that bring me more pleasure and profit than this. Lots of other skills.” Wylan coughed. Flirting with him might actually be more fun than annoying him, but it was a close call.

HUH?!

“Who?” Kaz felt like he was about to climb out of his skin. He pointed through the window. “Jakob fucking Hertzoon. I want to talk to him.”

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” she said, looking down at herself. The plunging gown barely covered her substantial cleavage and clung tightly to her buttocks. It had been wrought to look like blue-green scales, giving way to a shimmering chiffon fan. “Maybe a mermaid?” suggested Inej. “Or a wave?” “I thought I was a horse.” “Well they weren’t going to put you in a dress of hooves.” Nina smoothed her hands over the ridiculous costume. “I’m about to be very popular.”

“Wait,” said one of the guards. “Did you hear something?” Don’t look up. Oh, Saints, don’t look up. The guards moved in a slow circle, rifles raised. One of them craned his head back, scanning the roof. He began to turn. A strange, sweet sound pierced the air. “Skerden Fjerda, kende hjertzeeeeeng, lendten isen en de waaaanden.” Fjerdan words Jesper didn’t understand crested over the courtyard in a shimmering, perfect tenor that seemed to catch upon the black stone battlements. Wylan.

And on the first try, Nina thought to herself. Never mind. I am an excellent spy.

The guard with the broken nose moaned from the floor and tried to lift his gun. Inej gave him a good hard kick to the head. He didn’t move again.

“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’ll live?” Matthias asked. “Yes,” she said as she stepped onto the schooner. “He’ll just be very bald.”

“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.”