Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“My Wraith would counsel mercy. But thanks to you, she’s not here to plead your case.”

“She can’t die,” he said. “Not this way.” Nina peered at Jesper, puzzled. “Not what way?” “She can’t die,” he repeated.

“Sleep is a luxury at Hellgate. It’s a danger. But when I slept, I dreamed of you.”

And what did you do, Matthias? What did you do to me in your dreams?” The ship listed gently. The lanterns swayed. His eyes were blue fire. “Everything,” he said, as he turned to go. “Everything.”

Matthias liked to imagine breaking it into splinters and feeding them to Brekker one by one.

The Wraith can manage it.” “The Wraith is a sixteen-year-old girl currently lying unconscious on a table. She may not even survive the night.”

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

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,”

“He was afraid for you.” “Kaz isn’t afraid of anything.” “You should have seen his face when he brought you to me.” “I’m a very valuable investment.”

Maybe I’ll use it on you, she’d said. He’d sighed. If only you were that bloodthirsty. She hadn’t been able to tell if he was kidding.

Kaz told me … he said it was my choice, that he wouldn’t be the one to mark me again.”

Feeling anything for Kaz Brekker was the worst kind of foolishness. She knew that. But he’d been the one to rescue her, to see her potential. He’d bet on her, and that meant something—even if he’d done it for his own selfish reasons. He’d even dubbed her the Wraith.

My enemies? Our enemies.

“I’m not a criminal,” Wylan protested. Kaz had cast him an almost pitying look. “No, you’re a flautist who fell in with bad company.”

Inej!” Jesper crowed. “You’re not dead!” She smiled faintly. “No more than anyone.” “If you’re spouting depressing Suli wisdom, then you must be feeling better.”

Dessert for a life? I’m not sure that seems equitable.” “I expect really good waffles.” “I know just the place,” said Jesper. “They have this apple syrup—” “You’re not invited,” Nina said. “Now come help me get her standing.”

“Would it kill him to smile every once in a while?” Jesper asked. “Very possibly.”

But here’s the secret to popularity: risk death to save your compatriots from being blown to bits in an ambush. Great way to make friends.” “As long as I don’t have to start going to parties.”

Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you for two days.

He turned his head. They were sitting close together, their shoulders nearly touching. Her eyes were so brown they were almost black, and for once her hair was down. She always wore it tied back in a ruthlessly tight coil. Even the idea of being this near someone should have set his skin crawling. Instead he thought, What happens if I move closer?

What do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

It was a humiliating epiphany, but he knew he could have watched her eat all day.

“No mourners.” “No funerals,”

Nina had blown into his life with the wind and rain and set his world spinning. He’d been off balance ever since.

“It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand.

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

“I do like you.”

“I can’t. Not while you’re a threat.” “I will always be a threat to you, Matthias.”

“Hold it up so we don’t have to look at your ugly face.” “My face has character. Besides—oh!” “An excellent read, isn’t it?”

“Neither do I. We’re not as streetwise as you, Dirtyhands.” “Nor will you ever be,”

“Everyone does,” said Inej. Jesper lifted a brow. “Not everyone.” “That’s only because you never have anything in your wallet,” Nina shot back.

“Nina is everything you say. It’s too much.” “Mmm,” Inej murmured, taking a sip from her mug. “Maybe you’re just not enough.”

Wylan didn’t know the difference between being in chains and out of them, he was about to find out.

He thought that heaven would look like the kitchen of the house on Zelverstraat and smell like hutspot cooking in the Hertzoons’ oven.

He was too frail to swim on his own, but with Jordie’s help, he could float.

Together, they drifted, Jordie’s distended body acting as a raft.

He’d heard there were sharks in these waters, but he knew they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

But Kaz had hope now, hope and fury, twin flames burning inside him.

His eyes were still open, and for a moment, Kaz thought his brother was staring back at him. But Jordie didn’t speak, he didn’t blink, his gaze didn’t shift as the tide dragged him free of the pylon and began to carry him out to sea.

He had to live. Someone had to pay.

Better it should be her.

Inej would never betray him. He knew it.

You okay?” Inej asked, and Kaz felt himself drawn toward her voice like water rolling downhill.

She’d been the one to wake him from his stupor in the cart. Her voice had brought him back from the dark; it had been the tether he gripped and used to drag himself back to some semblance of sanity.

We’re either geniuses or the dumbest sons of bitches to ever breathe air.”

No, Kaz,” she’d said, “the trick is in getting back up.”

He’d brought these people here. He’d brought Inej here. It was his job to bring them out again.

What were you expecting?” Kaz growled. “Claws, at least,”

And I’m already in jail, so don’t tempt me to commit homicide.”