Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“Take good care of my babies,” Jesper said as he handed them over to Dirix. “If I see a single scratch or nick on those, I’ll spell forgive me on your chest in bullet holes.” “You wouldn’t waste the ammo.” “And he’d be dead halfway through forgive,” Big Bolliger said as he dropped a hatchet, a switchblade, and his preferred weapon—a thick chain weighted with a heavy padlock—into Rotty’s expectant hands. Jesper rolled his eyes. “It’s about sending a message. What’s the point of a dead guy with forg written on his chest?” “Compromise,” Kaz said. “I’m sorry does the trick and uses fewer bullets.”

“What about that?” Jesper asked, gesturing to Kaz’s walking stick. Kaz’s laugh was low and humorless. “Who’d deny a poor cripple his cane?” “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

“No mourners,” Jesper said as he tossed his rifle to Rotty. “No funerals,” the rest of the Dregs murmured in reply. Among them, it passed for “good luck.”

“I’m a businessman,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Took some doing,” Geels admitted. “We’re a small operation right now, and city guards don’t come cheap. But it’ll be worth it for the prize.” “That being me?” “That being you.” “I’m flattered.” “The Dregs won’t last a week without you.” “I’d give them a month on sheer momentum.”

“Let’s say my currency carries more sway.” “Money is money.” “I trade in information, Geels, the things men do when they think no one is looking. Shame holds more value than coin ever can.”

“Kaz,” Jesper said. “This whole ‘shoot me’ thing is starting to concern me.”

Geels shook his head. “There’s something wrong with you, Brekker. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not made right.” Kaz cocked his head to one side. “You’re from the suburbs, aren’t you, Geels? Came to the city to try your luck?” He smoothed his lapel with one gloved hand. “Well, I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

It would have been easy enough to make peace. Kaz could have told Jesper that he knew he wasn’t dirty, reminded him that he’d trusted him enough to make him his only real second in a fight that could have gone badly wrong tonight. Instead, he said, “Go on, Jesper. There’s a line of credit waiting for you at the Crow Club. Play till morning or your luck runs out, whichever comes first.” Jesper scowled, but he couldn’t keep the hungry gleam from his eye. “Another bribe?” “I’m a creature of habit.”

“Spit it out already, Wraith.” Her voice came from the dark. “You didn’t send anyone to Burstraat.” “Why would I?” “If Geels doesn’t get there in time—” “No one’s setting fires at Nineteen Burstraat.” “I heard the siren…” “A happy accident. I take inspiration where I find it.” “You were bluffing, then. She was never in danger.”

“When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.” “And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.” “I don’t think gods work that way.” “I don’t think I care.” She blew out an exasperated breath. Despite everything she’d been through, Inej still believed her Suli Saints were watching over her. Kaz knew it, and for some reason he loved to rile her. He wished he could read her expression now. There was always something so satisfying about the little furrow between her black brows.

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?” “Same as yours, merch. Profit.” “How do you get your information, Mister Brekker?” “You might say I’m a lockpick.” “You must be a very gifted one.”

“Very exciting. What is it you want from me, Van Eck? You want me to steal a shipment? The formula?” “No, I want you to steal the man.”

Kaz stared at Van Eck for a long minute, then burst out laughing. “Well, it’s been a pleasure being knocked unconscious and taken captive by you, Van Eck. You can be sure your hospitality will be repaid when the time is right. Now have one of your lackeys show me to the door.”

“You haven’t been arrested since you were fourteen, and since I know you are not an honest man any more than you were an honest boy, I can only assume you have the quality I most need in a criminal: You don’t get caught.” Van Eck smiled slightly then. “There’s also the matter of my DeKappel.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” “Six months ago, a DeKappel oil worth nearly one hundred thousand kruge disappeared from my home.” “Quite a loss.” “It was, especially since I had been assured that my gallery was impenetrable and that the locks on its doors were foolproof.” “I do seem to remember reading about that.” “Yes,” admitted Van Eck with a small sigh. “Pride is a perilous thing. I was eager to show off my acquisition and the lengths I’d gone to in order to protect it. And yet, despite all my safeguards, despite dogs and alarms and the most loyal staff in all of Ketterdam, my painting is gone.” “My condolences.” “It has yet to surface anywhere on the world market.” “Maybe your thief already had a buyer lined up.” “A possibility, of course. But I’m inclined to believe that the thief took it for a different reason.” “What would that be?” “Just to prove that he could.” “Seems like a stupid risk to me.” “Well, who can guess at the motives of thieves?” “Not me, certainly.” “From what I know of the Ice Court, whoever stole my DeKappel is exactly who I need for this job.” “Then you’d be better off hiring him. Or her.” “Indeed. But I’ll have to settle for you.”

“Why do you wear the gloves, Mister Brekker?” Kaz raised a brow. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Kaz had heard them, too. Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of his bare skin caused your flesh to wither and die. “Pick one,” Kaz said as he vanished into the night, thoughts already turning to thirty million kruge and the crew he’d need to help him get it. “They’re all true enough.”

“You’re smart, Brekker, but you need to learn patience.” “Yes, sir.” The old man barked a laugh. “Yes, sir. No, sir,” he mocked. “I know you’re up to something when you start getting polite. Just what have you got brewing?” “A job,” Kaz said. “I may need to be gone for a spell.”

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.” “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?”

Bless the pigeons, he thought. Bless all you kind and generous folk ready to empty your wallets into the Dregs’ coffers and call it a good time.

“Brick by brick,” he muttered to himself. They were the only words that kept his rage in check, that prevented him from striding through the Emerald’s garish gold-and-green doors, demanding a private audience with Rollins, and slitting his throat. Brick by brick. It was the promise that let him sleep at night, that drove him every day, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay. Because a quick death was too good for Pekka Rollins.

“They are pretenders. Making themselves clowns for you and your ilk.” “My ilk?” Kaz had laughed. She’d waved her hand in disgust. “Shevrati,” she’d said. “Know-nothings. They’re laughing at you behind those masks.” “Not at me, Inej. I’d never lay down good coin to be told my future by anyone—fraud or holy man.” “Fate has plans for us all, Kaz.”

Nina took a deep, shuddering breath. “He wants his revenge, Kaz.” “That’s what he wants, not what he needs,” said Kaz. “Leverage is all about knowing the difference.”

“What can you tell me about Per Haskell?” Nina had asked that night. “Not much,” Inej had admitted. “He’s no better or worse than most of the bosses in the Barrel.” “And Kaz Brekker?” “A liar, a thief, and utterly without conscience. But he’ll keep to any deal you strike with him.”

I would have died at the Menagerie.” “You may still die in the Dregs.” Inej’s dark eyes had glinted. “I may. But I’ll die on my feet with a knife in my hand.”

“Helvar doesn’t … Helvar doesn’t fight in the arena, does he?” “We aren’t here for the ambience,” Kaz said. Beyond slappable. “Are you aware that I could waggle my fingers and make you wet your trousers?” “Easy, Heartrender. I like these trousers. And if you start messing with my vital organs, Matthias Helvar will never see sunshine again.”

“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.”

Inej tossed Kaz the crow-headed cane she must have been hiding beneath her Gray Imp costume, and knelt over Matthias’ body with the bonelight.

“You can’t possibly mean for Muzzen to take Matthias’ place.” “He isn’t here for his sparkling conversation,” Kaz replied. “You’ll need to reproduce Helvar’s injuries. Inej, what’s the inventory?”

“Then Helvar gets locked back in his cell, and Muzzen still gets paid. And I’ll take him to breakfast at the Kooperom.” “Can I have waffles?” Muzzen mumbled. “We’ll all have waffles. And whiskey. If this job doesn’t come off, no one’s going to want to be around me sober. Finished, Nina?”

“Not the face, Nina. I need him mobile, not pretty. Heal him fast and only enough to get him walking for now. I don’t want him spry enough to vex us.”

“Jesper was supposed to wait until three bells,” said the pale boy. “It is three bells, Kaz,” replied a small girl in the corner with dark hair and deep bronze Suli skin. A figure covered in welts and bandages was leaning against her. “Since when is Jesper punctual?” the boy complained with a glance at his watch. “On your feet, Helvar.”

“Boys like you weren’t meant to get ideas, Helvar,” said Kaz. “That staircase leads to a bottleneck. You think the guards won’t check under that mask before they let you through?”

“You were early, Jesper,” Kaz said as he nudged Matthias toward the boat. “I was on time.” “For you, that’s early. Next time you plan to impress me give me some warning.” “The animals are out, and I found you a boat. This is when a thank-you would be in order.” “Thank you, Jesper,” said Nina. “You’re very welcome, gorgeous. See, Kaz? That’s how the civilized folk do.”

“We’re going to untie you,” said Brekker. “I hope prison hasn’t robbed you of all your manners or good sense.” Matthias nodded, and the bronze girl took a knife to the ropes binding him. “I believe you know Nina,” Brekker continued. “The lovely girl freeing you is Inej, our thief of secrets and the best in the trade. Jesper Fahey is our sharpshooter, Zemeni-born but try not to let him wax sentimental about it, and this is Wylan, best demolitions expert in the Barrel.”

“We should be using Raske,” Jesper said. “He’s good under pressure.” “I don’t like it,” agreed Inej. “I didn’t ask,” said Kaz. “Besides, Wylan isn’t just good with the flint and fuss. He’s our insurance.” “Against what?” asked Nina. “Meet Wylan Van Eck,” said Kaz Brekker as the boy’s cheeks flooded crimson. “Jan Van Eck’s son and our guarantee on thirty million kruge.”

Wylan’s mouth opened and closed, his throat working. “You knew?” he asked Kaz miserably. 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.”

Jesper snorted. “Kaz is your luck, merchling. He’s had you under Dregs protection—though you’re so useless, up until this minute none of us could figure out why.” “It was perplexing,” Nina admitted. “Kaz always has his reasons,” murmured Inej.

“I’ve been to the Ice Court. With my father. We went to an embassy dinner. I can help with the plans.” “See that? Hidden depths.” Kaz tapped his gloved fingers over the crow’s head of his cane.

Kaz cocked his head to one side, his eyes focused on something in the distance. “Scheming face,” Jesper whispered to Inej. She nodded. “Definitely.”

“Keep Wylan out of trouble,” he told Jesper as he dismissed them. “Why me?” “You’re unlucky enough to be in my line of sight, and I don’t want any sudden reconciliations between father and son before we set sail.” “You don’t need to worry about that,” said Wylan. “I worry about everything, merchling. That’s why I’m still alive. And you can keep an eye on Jesper, too.” “On me?” Jesper said indignantly. Kaz slid a black wood panel aside and unlocked the safe hidden behind it. “Yes, you.” He counted out four slender stacks of kruge and handed one over to Jesper. “This is for bullets, not bets. Wylan, make sure his feet don’t mysteriously find their way into a gambling den on his way to buy ammunition, understood?”

And Wylan, you and I are going to have a chat. I want to know everything about your father’s trading company.” Wylan shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it. He doesn’t include me in those discussions.” “You’re telling me you’ve never snooped around his office? Looked through his documents?” “No,” Wylan said, his chin jutting out slightly. Kaz was surprised to find he actually believed him. “What did I tell you?” Jesper said cheerfully as he headed through the door. “Useless.”

There was a Suli saying: The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.

Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.

“Jesper!” The shout came from far below, and it took a moment for Jesper to realize it was Wylan calling to him. He tried to ignore him, taking aim again. “Jesper!” I’m going to kill that little idiot. “What do you want?” he shouted down. “Close your eyes!” “You can’t kiss me from down there, Wylan.” “Just do it!” “This better be good!” He shut his eyes. “Are they closed?” “Damn it, Wylan, yes, they’re—” There was a shrill, shrieking howl, and then bright light bloomed behind Jesper’s lids. When it faded, he opened his eyes. Below, he saw men blundering around, rendered blind by the flash bomb Wylan had set off. But Jesper could see perfectly. Not bad for a mercher’s kid, he thought to himself, and opened fire.

“I don’t want to die.” “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.” She closed her eyes. “Keep talking, Wraith. Don’t slip away from me.” “But it’s what I do best.” He clutched her tighter. “Just make it to the schooner. Open your damn eyes, Inej.”

“Talk to me, Wraith.” “You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.” “I’ll put it on your tab.” Now she remembered. He owed her an apology. “Say you’re sorry.” “For what?” “Just say it.” She didn’t hear his reply. The world had grown very dark indeed.

“Move,” Kaz demanded, and Wylan practically leapt from the table. “I’m not finished—” began Nina. Then she caught sight of Inej. “Saints,” she swore. “What happened?” “Knife wound.” The cramped cabin was lit by several bright lanterns and a stash of clean bandages had been laid out on a shelf beside a bottle of camphor. Gently, Kaz placed Inej on the table that had been bolted to the deck. “That’s a lot of blood,” Nina said on a low breath. “Help her.” “Kaz, I’m a Heartrender, not a real Healer.” “She’ll be dead by the time we find one. Get to work.” “You’re in my light.”

“We were ambushed,” Wylan said from his perch on the forecastle deck. He had his sleeve pushed up and was running his fingers over the red spot where Nina had seen to his wound. Jesper shot Wylan a withering glare. “Private tutors from the university, and that’s what this kid comes up with? ‘We were ambushed’?”

Kaz leaned in so that no one else could hear it when he said, “My Wraith would counsel mercy. But thanks to you, she’s not here to plead your case.”