As soon as the door clicked shut, Matthias lunged for him. Kaz let it happen. He’d been expecting it.
Matthias clamped one filthy hand over Kaz’s mouth. The sensation of skin on skin set off a riot of revulsion in Kaz’s head, but because he’d been anticipating the attack, he managed to control the sickness that overcame him. Matthias’ other hand rooted around in Kaz’s coat pockets, first one then the other.
“Fer esje? ” he grunted angrily in Fjerdan. Then, “Where is it?” in Kerch.
Kaz gave Helvar another moment of frenzied searching, then dropped his elbow and jabbed upwards, forcing Helvar to loosen his grip. Kaz slipped away easily. He smacked Helvar behind the right leg with his cane. The big Fjerdan collapsed. When he tried to shove up again, Kaz kicked him.
“Stay down, you pathetic skiv.”
Again, Helvar tried to rise. He was fast, and prison had made him strong. Kaz cracked him hard on the jaw, then gave the pressure points at Helvar ’s huge shoulders two lightning-quick jabs with the tip of his cane. The Fjerdan grunted as his arms went limp and useless at his sides.
Kaz flipped the cane in his hand and pressed the carved crow’s head against Helvar ’s throat. “Move again and I’ll smash your jaw so badly you’ll be drinking your meals for the rest of your life.”
The Fjerdan stilled, his blue eyes alight with hate.
“Where is the pardon?” Helvar growled. “I saw you put it in your pocket.”
Kaz crouched down beside him and produced the folded document from a pocket that had seemed
empty just a moment before. “This?”
The Fjerdan flopped his useless arms, then released a low animal growl as Kaz made the pardon
vanish in thin air. It reappeared between his fingers. He turned it once, flashing the text, then ran his hand over it, and showed Helvar the seemingly blank page.
“Demjin,” muttered Helvar. Kaz didn’t speak Fjerdan, but that word he knew. Demon.
Hardly. He’d learned sleight of hand from the cardsharps and monte runners on East Stave, and spent hours practising it in front of a muddy mirror he’d bought with his first week’s pay.
Kaz knocked his cane gently against Helvar ’s jaw. “For every trick you’ve seen, I know a thousand more. You think a year in Hellgate hardened you up? Taught you to fight? Hellgate would have been paradise to me as a child. You move like an ox – you’d last about two days on the streets where I grew up. This was your one free pass, Helvar. Don’t test me again. Nod so I know you understand.”
Helvar pressed his lips together and nodded once.
“Good. I think we’ll shackle those feet tonight.”
Kaz rose, snatched his new hat from the desk where he’d left it, and gave the Fjerdan one last kick to the kidneys for good measure. Sometimes the big ones didn’t know when to stay down.
Over the next day, Inej saw Kaz begin to move the pieces of his scheme into position. She’d been privy to his consultations with every member of the crew, but she knew she was seeing only fragments of his plan. That was the game Kaz always played.
If he had doubts about what they were attempting, they didn’t show, and Inej wished she shared his certainty. The Ice Court had been built to withstand an onslaught of armies, assassins, Grisha, and spies. When she’d said as much to Kaz, he’d simply replied, “But it hasn’t been built to keep us out.”
His confidence unnerved her. “What makes you think we can do this? There will be other teams out there, trained soldiers and spies, people with years of experience.”
“This isn’t a job for trained soldiers and spies. It’s a job for thugs and thieves. Van Eck knows it, and that’s why he brought us in.”
“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”
“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”
“There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”
He’d turned his back on her then, giving each of his gloves a sharp tug. “And when I want a sermon on that, I know who to come to. If you want out, just say so.”
Her spine had straightened, her own pride rising to her defence. “Matthias isn’t the only irreplaceable member of this crew, Kaz. You need me.”
“I need your skills, Inej. That’s not the same thing. You may be the best spider crawling around the Barrel, but you’re not the only one. You’d do well to remember it if you want to keep your share of the haul.”
She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t wanted to show just how angry he’d made her, but she’d left his office and hadn’t said a thing to him since.
Now, as she headed towards the harbour, she wondered what kept her on this path.
She could leave Kerch any time she wanted. She could stow away on a ship bound for Novyi Zem.