Six of Crows

  Matthias cleared his throat and gave Nina an awkward little bow. “A word?” he asked.

  Nina returned the bow with considerably more panache, and let him lead her away. Inej was glad; she wanted a moment with Kaz.

  “I have something for you,” she said as she pulled his leather gloves from the sleeve of her prison tunic.

  He stared at them. “How—”

  “I got them from the discarded clothes. Before I made the climb.”

  “Six stories in the dark.”

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

  He pulled the gloves on slowly, and she watched his pale, vulnerable hands disappear beneath the leather. They were trickster hands—long, graceful fingers made for prying open locks, hiding coins, making things vanish.

  “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.”

  It was time to go. “Saints’ speed, Kaz.”

  Kaz snagged her wrist. “Inej.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, traced the top of the feather tattoo. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know…”

  She waited. She felt hope rustling its wings inside her, ready to take flight at the right words from Kaz. She willed that hope into stillness. Those words would never come. The heart is an arrow.

  She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even knock her hand away. In nearly two years of battling side by side with Kaz, of late-night scheming, impossible heists, clandestine errands, and harried meals of fried potatoes and hutspot gobbled down as they rushed from one place to another, this was the first time she had touched him skin to skin, without the barrier of gloves or coat or shirtsleeve. She let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, but she saw a tremor pass through him, as if he were waging a war with himself.

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

  His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will for him to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

  She dropped her hand. He took a deep breath.

  Kaz had said he didn’t want her prayers and she wouldn’t speak them, but she wished him safe nonetheless. She had her aim now, her heart had direction, and though it hurt to know that path led away from him, she could endure it.

  * * *

  Inej joined Nina at the edge of the dome to await the arrival of the Menagerie. The dome was wide and shallow, all silver filigree and glass. Inej saw there was a mosaic on the floor of the vast rotunda below. It appeared in brief flashes between partygoers—two wolves chasing each other, destined to move in circles for as long as the Ice Court stood.

  The guests entering through the grand archway were being shepherded into rooms off the rotunda in small groups to be searched for weapons. Inej saw guards emerge with little piles of brooches, porcupine quills, even sashes that Inej assumed must contain metal or wire.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” said Nina. “You don’t have to put those silks on again.”

  “I’ve done worse.”

  “I know. You scaled six stories of hell for us.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Nina paused. “I know that, too.” She hesitated, then said, “Is the haul so important to you?” Inej was surprised to hear what sounded like guilt in Nina’s voice.

  The Elderclock began to chime nine bells. Inej looked down at the wolves chasing each other around the rotunda floor. “I’m not sure why I began this,” she admitted. “But I know why I have to finish. I know why fate brought me here, why it placed me in the path of this prize.”

  She was being vague, but she wasn’t yet ready to speak the dream that had ignited in her heart—a crew of her own, a ship under her command, a crusade. It felt like something that was meant to be kept secret, a new seed that might grow to something extraordinary if it wasn’t forced to bloom too soon. She didn’t even know how to sail. And yet a part of her wanted to tell Nina all of it. If Nina didn’t choose to go back to Ravka, a Heartrender would be an excellent addition to her crew.

  “They’re here,” Nina said.

  The girls of the Menagerie entered through the rotunda doors in a wedge formation, their gowns glittering in the candlelight, the hoods of their capes shadowing their faces. Each hood was fashioned to represent an animal—a Zemeni fawn with soft ears and delicate white spots, a Kaelish mare with an auburn topknot, a Shu serpent with beaded red scales, a Ravkan fox, a leopard from the Southern Colonies, a raven, an ermine, and of course the Suli lynx. The tall blonde girl who played the role of the Fjerdan wolf in silvery furs was notably absent.

  They were met by uniformed female guards.

  “I don’t see her,” said Nina.

  “Just wait. The Peacock will enter last.”

  And sure enough, there she was: Heleen Van Houden, shimmering in teal satin, an elaborate ruff of peacock feathers framing her golden head.

  “Subtle,” said Nina.

  “Subtle doesn’t sell in the Barrel.”

  Inej gave a high, trilling whistle. Jesper’s whistle came back from somewhere in the distance. This is it, Inej thought. She’d shoved, and now the boulder was rolling down the hill. Who knew what damage it might do and what might be built on the rubble?

  Nina squinted down through the glass. “How does she keep from collapsing under the weight of those diamonds? They can’t possibly be real.”

  “Oh, they’re real,” said Inej. Those jewels had been purchased with the sweat and blood and sorrow of girls like her.

  The guards divided the members of the Menagerie into three groups, while Heleen was escorted separately. The Peacock would never be expected to turn out her clothes and lift her skirts in front of her girls.

  “Them,” Inej said, pointing to the group that included the Suli lynx and Kaelish mare. They were heading to the doors on the left of the rotunda.

  As Nina tracked the group with her eyes, Inej moved over the roof, following their trajectory.

  “Which door?” she called.

  “Third on the right,” Nina said. Inej moved to the nearest air duct and lifted the grate. It would be a tight squeeze for Nina, but they’d manage. She slid down into the ventilation duct, crouching and moving along the narrow shaft between rooms. Behind her, she heard a grunt and then a loud whump as Nina hit the bottom of the shaft like a sack of laundry. Inej winced. Hopefully the noises of the crowd below would lend them cover. Or maybe the Ice Court had really big rats.

  They crawled along, peering in vents as they went. Finally, they were looking down into some kind of small meeting room that had been commandeered for the purpose of guards searching guests.

  The Exotics had removed their capes and laid them on the long oval table. One of the blond guards was patting the girls down, feeling along the seams and hems of their costumes, and even poking fingers into their hair, while the other guard kept watch with her hand resting on her rifle. She looked ill at ease with the gun. Inej knew Fjerdans didn’t let women serve in the army in a combat capacity. Maybe the female guards had been conscripted from some other unit.

  Inej and Nina waited until the guards had finished searching the girls, their capes, and their little beaded purses.

  “Ven tidder,” one of the guards said as they exited the room to let the Menagerie girls set themselves to rights.

  “Five minutes,” translated Nina in a whisper.

  “Go,” said Inej.

  “I need you to move.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need a clear line of sight, and right now all I can see is your ass.”

  Inej wiggled forward so Nina had a better view through the vent, and a moment later, s
he heard four soft thuds as the Menagerie girls collapsed on the dark blue carpet.

  Quickly, she wrenched the grate loose and dropped onto the shiny surface of the table. Nina tumbled down after her, landing in a heap.

  “Sorry,” she moaned as she dragged herself upright.

  Inej almost laughed. “You’re very graceful in battle, just not when you’re plummeting.”

  “Missed that day in school.”

  They stripped the Suli and Kaelish girls down to their underclothes, then bound all the girls’ wrists and ankles with cords from the curtains and gagged them with torn pieces of their prison clothes.

  “Clock is ticking,” said Inej.

  “Sorry,” Nina whispered to the Kaelish girl. Inej knew that ordinarily Nina would have used pigments to alter her own hair color, but there simply wasn’t time. Nina bled the girl’s bright red color directly from the strands of her hair into Nina’s own, leaving the poor Kaelish with a mop of white waves that looked vaguely rusty in places, and Nina with hair that wasn’t quite Kaelish red. Nina’s eyes were green and not blue, but that kind of tailoring couldn’t be rushed, so they’d have to do. She took white powder from the girl’s beaded bag and did her best to pale her skin.

  As Nina worked, Inej dragged the other girls into a tall silverwood cabinet on the far wall, arranging their limbs so that there would be room for the Kaelish. She felt a stab of guilt as she made sure the Suli girl’s gag was secure. Tante Heleen must have bought her to replace Inej; she had the same bronze skin, the same thick sheaf of dark hair. She was built differently, though, soft and curving instead of lean and angular. Maybe she’d come to Tante Heleen of her own free will. Maybe she’d chosen this life. Inej hoped that was true. “Saints protect you,” Inej whispered to the unconscious girl.

  A rap came at the door and a voice spoke in Fjerdan.

  “They need the room for the next girls,” Nina whispered.

  Inej and Nina shoved the Kaelish into the cupboard and managed to get the doors closed and locked, then yanked on their costumes. Inej was glad she didn’t have time to dwell on the unwelcome familiarity of the silks on her skin, the horrible tinkling of the bells on her anklets. They swept on their capes and took a quick glance in the mirror.

  Neither of the costumes fit properly. Inej’s purple silks were far too loose, and as for Nina …

  “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.”

  “I wonder what Matthias would have to say about that outfit.”

  “He wouldn’t approve.”

  “He doesn’t approve of anything about you. But when you laugh, he perks up like a tulip in fresh water.”

  Nina snorted. “Matthias the tulip.”

  “The big, brooding, yellow tulip.”

  “Are you ready?” Nina asked as they pulled their hoods far down over their faces.

  “Yes.” Inej said, and she meant it. “We’ll need a distraction. They’re going to notice four girls went in and only two are coming out.”

  “Leave it to me. And watch your hem.”

  As soon as they opened the door to the hallway, the guards were waving them over impatiently. Beneath her cape, Nina flicked her fingers hard. One of the guards bleated as her nose began to gush blood down the front of her uniform in absurdly forceful gouts. The other guard recoiled, but in the next instant, she clutched her stomach. Nina was twisting her wrist in a roiling motion, sending waves of nausea through the woman’s system.

  “Your hem,” Nina repeated calmly.

  Inej barely had time to gather up her cape before the guard bent double and heaved her dinner over the tiled floor. The guests in the hallway shrieked and shoved at each other, trying to get away from the mess. Nina and Inej sailed by, emitting appropriate squeals of disgust.

  “The nosebleed probably would have done the trick,” whispered Inej.

  “Best to be thorough.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked making Fjerdans suffer.”

  They kept their heads down and entered the swell of people filling the rotunda, ignoring the Zemeni fawn who tried to direct them to the other side of the room. It was essential that they not get too close to any of the real Menagerie girls. Inej only wished the cloaks weren’t so easy to track through a crowd.

  “This one,” Inej said, steering Nina into a line far from the other members of the Menagerie. It seemed to be moving a bit faster. But when they reached the front of the line, Inej wondered if she’d chosen poorly. This guard seemed even more stern-faced and humorless than the others. He held his hand out for Nina’s papers and scrutinized them with cold blue eyes.

  “This description says you have freckles,” he said in Kerch.

  “I do,” said Nina smoothly. “They’re just not visible right now. Want to see?”

  “No,” the Fjerdan said icily. “You’re taller than described here.”

  “Boots,” Nina said. “I like to be able to look a man in the eye. You have very pretty eyes.”

  He looked at the paper, then took in her ensemble. “You’re heavier than it says on this paper, I’ll wager.”

  She shrugged artfully, the scales of her neckline slipping lower. “I like to eat when I’m in the mood,” she said, puckering her lips shamelessly. “And I’m always in the mood.”

  Inej struggled to keep a straight face. If Nina resorted to eyelash batting, she knew she would lose the fight and burst out laughing. But the Fjerdan seemed to be eating it up. Maybe Nina had a stupefying effect on all stalwart northerners.

  “Move along,” he said gruffly. Then added, “I … I may be at the party later.”

  Nina ran a finger down his arm. “I’ll save you a dance.”

  He grinned like a fool, then cleared his throat, and his stern expression fell back into place. Saints, Inej thought, it must be exhausting to be so stolid all the time. He glanced cursorily at Inej’s papers, his mind still clearly on the prospect of unwrapping Nina’s layers of blue-green chiffon. He waved her past, but as Inej stepped forward she stumbled.

  “Wait,” said the guard.

  She stopped. Nina looked back over her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong with your shoes?”

  “Just a bit big,” said Inej. “They stretched more than expected.”

  “Show me your arms,” the guard said.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it,” the guard said harshly.

  Inej pulled her arms free of the cloak and held them out, displaying the lumpy peacock feather tattoo.

  A guard in captain’s stripes wandered over. “What is it?”

  “She’s Suli, for sure, and she has the Menagerie tattoo, but it doesn’t look quite right.”

  Inej shrugged. “I got a bad burn as a child.”

  The captain gestured to a group of annoyed-looking partygoers gathered near the entry and surrounded by guards. “Anyone suspicious goes over there. Put her with them, and we’ll take her back to the checkpoint to have her papers reviewed.”

  “I’ll miss the party,” said Inej.

  The guard ignored her, seizing her arm and pulling her back toward the entry as the other people in line stared and whispered. Her heart began to pound.

  Nina’s face was frightened, pale even beneath her powder, but there was nothing Inej could say to reassure her. She gave her the briefest nod. Go, she thought silently. It’s up to you now.

  29

  MATTHIAS

  NINE BELLS

  “What if I say no, Brekker?” It was mere posturing, Matthias kne
w that. The time for protest had long passed. They were already jogging down the gentle slope of the embassy roof toward the drüskelle sector, Wylan panting from exertion, Jesper loping along with ease, and Brekker keeping pace despite his crooked gait and lack of cane. But Matthias disliked how well this low thief could read him. “What if I don’t give you this last bit of myself and my honor?”

  “You will, Helvar. Nina is on her way to the White Island right now. Are you really going to leave her stranded?”

  “You presume a great deal.”

  “Seems like the perfect amount to me.”

  “These are the law courts, right?” Jesper said as they raced over the roof, catching glimpses of the elegant courtyards below, each built around a burbling fountain and dotted with rustling ice willows. “I guess if you’re going to be sentenced to death, this isn’t a bad place for it.”

  “Water everywhere,” said Wylan. “Do the fountains symbolize Djel?”

  “The wellspring,” mused Kaz, “where all sins are washed clean.”

  “Or where they drown you and make you confess,” Wylan said.

  Jesper snorted. “Wylan, your thoughts have taken a very dark turn. I fear the Dregs may be a bad influence.”

  They used a doubled segment of rope and the grappling hook to cross to the roof of the drüskelle sector. Wylan had to be looped into a sling, but Jesper and Kaz moved easily across the rope, hand over hand, with unnerving speed. Matthias approached with more caution, and though he didn’t show it, he did not like the way the rope creaked and bowed with his own weight.

  The others pulled him onto the stone of the drüskelle roof, and as Matthias stood, he was struck by a wave of vertigo. More than any place in the Ice Court, more than any place in the world, this felt like home to him. But it was home turned on its head, his life viewed at the wrong angle. Peering into the dark, he saw the massive pyramid skylights that marked the roof. He had the disconcerting sense that if he looked through the glass he would see himself running drills in the training rooms, seated at the long table in the dining hall.

  In the distance, he heard the wolves barking and yapping in their kennel by the gatehouse, wondering where their masters had gone for the night. Would they recognize him if he approached with an outstretched hand? He wasn’t sure he recognized himself. On the northern ice, his choices had seemed clear. But now his thoughts were muddied with these thugs and thieves, with Inej’s courage and Jesper’s daring, and with Nina, always Nina. He couldn’t deny the relief he’d felt when she’d emerged from the incinerator shaft, disheveled and gasping, frightened but alive. When he and Wylan had pulled her out of the flue, he’d had to force himself to let her go.