Rollins watched Brekker and his crew moving through the crowded gambling hall. They opened
the doors to the street, and for a brief moment, they were silhouetted against the lamplight in their masks and capes – a cripple trailed by a bunch of kids in costumes. Some gang. Brekker was a wily thief and tough enough, Pekka supposed, inventive, too. But unlike those poor stooges at the Ice Court, Van Eck would be ready for Brekker. The boy was going into a real battle. He didn’t stand a chance.
Rollins reached for his watch. It had to be about time for the dealers to change shifts, and he liked to supervise them himself.
“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed a second later.
“What is it, boss?”
Rollins held up his watch chain. A turnip was hanging from the fob where his diamond-studded timepiece should have been. “That little bastard—” Then a thought came to him. He reached for his wallet. It was gone. So was his tie pin, the Kaelish coin pendant he wore for luck, and the gold buckles on his shoes. Rollins wondered if he should check the fillings in his teeth.
“He picked your pocket?” Doughty asked incredulously.
No one got one over on Pekka Rollins. No one dared. But Brekker had, and Rollins wondered if
that was just the beginning.
“Doughty,” he said, “I think we’d best say a prayer for Jan Van Eck.”
“You think Brekker can best him?”
“It’s a long shot, but if he’s not careful, I think that merch might walk himself right onto the gallows and let Brekker tighten the noose.” Rollins sighed. “We better hope Van Eck kills that boy.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise I’ll have to.”
Rollins straightened the knot of his pinless tie and headed down to the casino floor. The problem of Kaz Brekker could wait to be solved another day. Right now there was money to be made.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I have a degenerative condition called osteonecrosis. This basically translates to ‘bone death’, which sounds kind of gothy and romantic, but actually means that every step I take is painful and that I sometimes need to walk with a cane. It’s no coincidence I chose to create a protagonist struggling with similar symptoms, and I often felt that Kaz and I were limping along this road together. We wouldn’t have made it to ‘The End’ without a lot of wonderful people.
All the love to my crew of outcasts and troublemakers: Michi, Rachael, Sarah, Robyn, Josh, and especially Morgan, who gave this book its name and helped me finish it. Many thanks also to Jimmy, who dragged me off to Santa Barbara and smashed my writer ’s block just by being wonderful.
Bless Noa Wheeler for helping me solve this particular puzzle and for staying patient when I get prickly and bring out the whiteboard. I am deeply grateful to Jean Feiwel, Laura Godwin, Jon Yaged, Molly Brouillette, Elizabeth Fithian, Rich Deas, April Ward, and the countless people at Henry Holt and Macmillan Children’s who have helped bring the Grisha world to life and who let me continue to explore it with readers. Joanna Volpe at New Leaf: ‘Stalwart and true’ should definitely be on your résumé. I can face just about any challenge knowing you have my back. Thanks also to Pouya ‘he was a young’ Shahbazian, Kathleen Ortiz, Danielle Barthel, JaidaTemperly, and Jess Dallow. And a big thank you to Team Grisha in the UK: Fiona Kennedy, and the wonderful crew at Orion – most especially Nina Douglas, who is an extraordinary publicist, an excellent travelling companion, and a born Ravenclaw. Thank you to the readers, librarians, booksellers, BookTubers, and bloggers who celebrate stories all over the world.
Any good heist requires talented specialists, and I’ve been aided by the best:
Steven Klein offered invaluable expertise on how beginners learn magic and pointed me to the work of Eric Mead and Apollo Robbins, gentleman thief. Angela DePace did her best to help me find a real way to knock out a room full of prisoners, but the chloro pellet ended up being a work of pure fabrikation. (Don’t try it at home.) Richard Wheeler advised me on how government buildings and high-security facilities actually keep out ne’er-do-wells. Emily Stein walked me through knife wounds and introduced me to the beautiful phrase ‘apex of the heart’. Conlang king David Peterson tried to nudge me in the right direction and let me be very stubborn about straats. And Hedwig Aerts, my dear friend and Soberumi, thank you for helping me mangle Dutch more thoughtfully.
Marie Lu, Amie Kaufman, Robin LaFevers, Jessica Brody, and Gretchen McNeil keep me laughing
and put up with so much whining. Thanks also to Robin Wasserman, Holly Black, Sarah Rees Brennan, Kelly Link, and Cassandra Clare for plot advice, margaritas, and foisting Teen Wolf upon me. I will never be the same. Anna Carey can be blamed for the Fjerdan guard’s nosebleed. Send her your complaints.