I am. He shifted his gaze to hers. Do you remember this shore, Nina? he wanted to ask, though he knew she must.
“What colour are you making my eyes?”
“Shhh. This is difficult.” She dabbed the drops onto her fingers and held them close to his eyes.
“Why can’t you just put them in?”
“Why can’t you stop talking? Do you want me to blind you?”
He stopped talking.
Finally, she drew back, gaze roving over his features. “Brownish,” she said. Then she winked.
“Like toffee.”
“What do you intend to do about Bo Yul-Bayur?”
She straightened and stepped away, her expression shuttering. “What do you mean?”
He was sorry to see her easy manner go, but that didn’t matter. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “You know exactly what I mean. I don’t believe for a second you’ll let these people hand Bo Yul-Bayur over to the Kerch Merchant Council.”
She put the bottle back in one of the little drawers. “We’ll have to do this at least two more times before we get to the Ice Court so I can deepen the colour. Get your things together. Kaz wants us ready to leave on the hour.” She snapped the top of the case closed and picked up the shackles. Then she was gone.
By the time they bid their goodbyes to the ship’s crew, the sky had turned from pink to gold.
“See you in Djerholm harbour,” Specht called. “No mourners.”
“No funerals,” the others replied. Strange people.
Brekker had been frustratingly tight-lipped about how exactly they were going to reach Bo Yul-Bayur and then get out of the Ice Court with the scientist in tow, but he’d been clear that once they had their prize, the Ferolind was their escape route. It had papers bearing the Kerch seal and indicating that all fees and applications had been made for representatives of the Haanraadt Bay Company to transport furs and goods from Fjerda to Zierfoort, a port city in south Kerch.
They began the march from the rocky shore up the cliff side. Spring was coming, but ice was still thick on the ground, and it was a tough climb. When they reached the top of the cliff, they stopped to catch their breath. The Ferolind was still visible on the horizon, its sails full of the wind that whipped at their cheeks.
“Saints,” said Inej. “We’re actually doing this.”
“I’ve spent every minute of every miserable day wishing to be off that ship,” said Jesper. “So why do I suddenly miss it?”
Wylan stamped his boots. “Maybe because it already feels like our feet are going to freeze off.”
“When we get our money, you can burn kruge to keep you warm,” said Kaz. “Let’s go.” He’d left his crow’s head cane aboard the Ferolind and substituted a less conspicuous walking stick. Jesper had mournfully left behind his prized pearl-handled revolvers in favour of a pair of unornamented guns, and Inej had done the same with her extraordinary set of knives and daggers, keeping only those she could bear to part with when they entered the prison. Practical choices, but Matthias knew that talismans had their power.
Jesper consulted his compass, and they turned south, seeking a path that would lead them to the main trading road. “I’m going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me.”
Kaz fell into step beside him. “Why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone to burn your kruge for you? That’s what the big players do.”
“You know what the really big bosses do? They pay someone to pay someone to …”
Their voices trailed off as they tromped ahead, and Matthias and the others followed after. But he noticed that each of them cast a final backwards glance at the vanishing Ferolind. The schooner was a part of Kerch, a piece of home for them, and that last familiar thing was drifting further away with every moment.
Matthias felt some small measure of sympathy, but as they trekked through the morning, he had to admit he enjoyed seeing the canal rats shiver and struggle a bit for once. They thought they knew cold, but the white north had a way of forcing strangers to reevaluate their terms. They stumbled and staggered, awkward in their new boots, trying to find the trick of walking in hard-crusted snow, and soon Matthias was in the lead, setting the pace, though Jesper kept a steady eye on his compass.
“Put your …” Matthias paused and had to gesture to Wylan. He didn’t know the Kerch word for