Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

Performing an ancient Zemeni ritual,” Kaz said. “Really?” “No.”

Flirting with him might actually be more fun than annoying him, but it was a close call.

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.”

she felt curiously guilty as she slid the supple black leather over her hands, as if she had crept into his rooms without his permission, read his letters, lain down in his bed.

They were all going to die—Kaz, Nina, Jesper, Matthias, Wylan—and it was her fault.

She forced herself to find the next hold. Kaz and his greed. She didn’t feel guilty. She wasn’t sorry. She was just mad. Mad at Kaz for attempting this insane job, furious with herself for agreeing to it.

Or because despite all good sense and better intentions, she’d let herself feel something for the bastard of the Barrel?

I’m already a ghost, she thought. I died in the hold of a slaver ship

If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the Barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” For some reason, those words had comforted her. Better terrible truths than kind lies.

Oh, and Inej,” he said as he led her out of the salon, “don’t ever sneak up on me again.”

And four million kruge might be enough to do it. Enough for her own ship—something small and fierce and laden with firepower. Something like her. She would hunt the slavers and their buyers. They would learn to fear her, and they would know her by her name.

She was not a lynx or a spider or even the Wraith. She was Inej Ghafa, and her future was waiting above.

yes queen ily

Kaz’s reaction the last time Inej was injured had been more than a little disturbing, though this wasn’t nearly as bad as a stab wound—and this time Kaz didn’t have the Black Tips to blame.

A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.

She wasn’t going to wait for thanks. Not for the climb, or the gloves, or for anything ever again.

“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m taking my share, and I’m leaving the Dregs.” He looked away. “You should. You were always too good for the Barrel.”

“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”

She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

But now his thoughts were muddied with these thugs and thieves, with Inej’s courage and Jesper’s daring, and with Nina, always Nina.

“One day you’ll run out of tricks, demjin.” “You’d better hope it’s not today.”

“Country before self, Zenik. It’s something you’ve never understood.”

But he’d given what was left of his broken heart to the cause. A false cause. A lie.

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.

To ignore that would make Matthias the monster.

“I don’t know if you’re wrong about the Grisha,” he said gently. “I just know you’re wrong about her.”

A part of him was disgusted by how easily the lies came to his lips, but he would not leave Nina at Brum’s mercy.

The life you live, the hate you feel—it’s poison. I can drink it no longer.” Matthias locked the cell door and hurried down the passage toward Nina, toward something more.

never want to see you like this again.” “Do you mean the dress or the cell?” A laugh shook him. “Definitely the cell.”

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.

Survive. Survive. Survive. It was the way he’d lived his life, moment to moment, breath to breath, since that terrible morning when he’d woken to find that Jordie was still dead and he was still very much alive.

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 clamor—desire, a wish that lingered still, the hope that she would touch him again.

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 harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.

She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

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.

He needed to tell her … what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved.

That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near.

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.

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 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.”

“Then I almost pity the slavers,” Kaz said. “They have no idea what’s coming for them.”

You’re about to be rich, Kaz. What will you do when there’s no more blood to shed or vengeance to take?”

Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she’d been through. “What

I want you to stay. I want you to … I want you.”

You want me.” She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his hand. “And how...

“How will you have me?” she repeated. “Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch?”

“I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

We all carry our sins, Nina. I need you to live so I can atone for mine.”

“Stay,” she panted. Tears leaked from her eyes. “Stay till the end.” “And after,” he said. “And always.”

Zealot,” she said weakly. “Witch.” “Barbarian.” “Nina,” he whispered, “little red bird. Don’t go.”

“The letters…” said Jesper, and Kaz could see the anger in his face. “You weren’t pleading with him to come back. You were mocking him.”