Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“Quit flexing, boy,” Geels said. “We all know the old man doesn’t have the stomach for a real brawl.” Kaz’s laugh was dry as the rustle of dead leaves. “But I’m the one at your table, Geels, and I’m not here for a taste. You want a war, I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

Kaz knocked his cane gently against Helvar’s jaw. “For every trick you’ve seen, I know a thousand more. You think a year in Hellgate hardened you up? Taught you to fight? Hellgate would have been paradise to me as a child. You move like an ox—you’d last about two days on the streets where I grew up. This was your one free pass, Helvar. Don’t test me again. Nod so I know you understand.” Helvar pressed his lips together and nodded once. “Good. I think we’ll shackle those feet tonight.” Kaz rose, snatched his new hat from the desk where he’d left it, and gave the Fjerdan one last kick to the kidneys for good measure. Sometimes the big ones didn’t know when to stay down.

“Kaz killed a lot of people. Rotty saw him go after the Black Tips who had you up on the crates. I believe his exact words were, ‘There was enough blood to paint a barn red.’”

“How did you learn?” “The way you learn about anything. Take it apart.”

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.