“The water hears and understands,” he murmured beneath his breath.
Inej sought out Rotty and got him to dig up the wool coats she and Nina had left behind in favour of their cold weather gear when they’d landed on the northern shore. She found Nina near the prow, gazing out at the sea.
“One hour, maybe two,” Nina said without turning.
Inej halted in shock. “You heard me approach?” No one heard the Wraith, especially over the sound of the wind and sea.
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t those silent feet that gave you away. I can hear your pulse, your breathing.”
“And you knew it was me?”
“Every heart sounds different. I never realised that before.”
Inej joined her at the rail and handed over Nina’s coat. The Grisha put it on, though the cold didn’t seem to be bothering her. Above them, the stars shone bright between silver-seeded drifts of cloud.
Inej was ready for dawn, ready for this long night to be over, and the journey, too. She was surprised to find she was eager to see Ketterdam again. She wanted an omelette, a mug of too-sweet coffee. She wanted to hear the rain on the rooftops and sit snug and warm in her tiny room at the Slat. There were adventures to come, but they could wait until she’d had a hot bath – maybe a few of them.
Nina buried her face in her coat’s woollen collar and said, “I wish you could see what I do. I can hear every body on this ship, the blood rushing through their veins. 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.”
“And what about Matthias?” Inej asked, eager to change the subject.
Nina raised a brow, unfooled. “Matthias is afraid for me, but his heart thumps a steady rhythm no matter what he’s feeling. So Fjerdan, so orderly.”
“I didn’t think you’d let those men live, back at the harbour.”
“I’m not sure it was the right thing to do. I’ll become one more Grisha horror story for them to tell their children.”
“Behave or Nina Zenik will get you?”
Nina considered. “Well, I do like the sound of that.”
Inej leaned back on the railing and peered at Nina. “You look radiant.”
“It won’t last.”
“It never does.” Then Inej’s smile faltered. “Are you afraid?”
“Terrified.”
“We’ll all be here with you.”
Nina took a wobbly breath and nodded.
Inej had made countless alliances in Ketterdam, but few friends. She rested her head against Nina’s shoulder. “If I were a Suli seer,” she said, “I could look into the future and tell you it will be all right.”
“Or that I’m going to die in agony.” Nina pressed her cheek against the top of Inej’s head. “Tell me something good anyway.”
“It will be all right,” Inej said. “You’ll survive this. And then you’re going to be very, very rich.
You’ll sing sea shanties and drinking songs nightly in an East Stave cabaret, and you’ll bribe everyone to give you standing ovations after every song.”
Nina laughed softly. “Let’s buy the Menagerie.”
Inej grinned, thinking of the future and her little ship. “Let’s buy it and burn it down.”
They watched the waves for a while. “Ready?” Nina said.
Inej was glad she hadn’t had to ask. She pushed up her sleeve, baring the peacock feather and mottled skin beneath it.
It took the barest second, the softest brush of Nina’s fingertips. The itch was acute but passed quickly. When the prickling faded, the skin of Inej’s forearm was perfect—almost too smooth and flawless, like it was the one new part of her.
Inej touched the soft skin. Just like that it was done. If only every wound could be banished so easily.
Nina kissed Inej’s cheek. “I’m going to find Matthias before things get bad.”
But as she walked away, Inej saw Nina had another reason to depart. Kaz was standing in the shadows near the mast. He had a heavy coat on and was leaning on his crow-head cane – he looked almost like himself again. Inej’s knives would be waiting in the hold with her other belongings. She’d missed her claws.
Kaz murmured a few words to Nina, and the Grisha reared back in surprise. Inej couldn’t make out the rest of what they said, but she could tell the exchange was tense before Nina made an exasperated sound and vanished belowdecks.
“What did you say to Nina?” Inej asked when he joined her at the rail.
“I have a job I need her to perform.”
“She’s about to go through a terrifying ordeal—”
“And work still needs to get done.”
Pragmatic Kaz. Why let empathy get in the way? Maybe Nina would be glad for the distraction.
They stood together, gazing out at the waves, silence stretching between them.
“We’re alive,” he said at last.
“It seems you prayed to the right god.”
“Or travelled with the right people.”
Inej shrugged. “Who chooses our paths?” He said nothing, and she had to smile. “No sharp retort?
No laughing at my Suli proverbs?”