Six of Crows

Inej cocked her head to the side. “Is Matthias … praying?”


“Saying a blessing. Fjerdans do it whenever they cut down a tree.”

“Every time?”

“The blessings depend on how you intend to use the wood. One for houses, one for bridges.” She paused. “One for kindling.”

It took less than a minute for them to pull the tree down so that its trunk lay blocking the road. With the roots intact, it looked as if it had simply been felled by disease.

“Once the wagon stops, the tree will buy us about fifteen minutes and not much more,” Kaz said.

“Move quickly. The prisoners should be hooded, but they’ll be able to hear, so not a word. We can’t afford to arouse suspicion. For all they know, this is a routine stop, and we want to keep it that way.”

As Inej waited in the gully with the others, she considered all the things that might go wrong. The prisoners might not be wearing hoods. The guards might have one of their own in the back of the wagon. And if their crew succeeded? Well, then they’d be captives on their way into the Ice Court.

That didn’t seem like a particularly promising outcome, either.

Just when she started to wonder if Jesper had been wrong and sent up the flare too early, a prison wagon rumbled into view. It rolled past them, then came to a halt in front of the tree. She could hear the driver cursing to his companion.

They both slid down from the box seat and made their way over to the tree. For a long minute, they stood there staring at it. The larger guard took off his hat and scratched his belly.

“How lazy can they be?” Kaz muttered.

Finally, they seemed to accept that the tree wasn’t going to move on its own. They strolled back to the wagon to retrieve a heavy coil of rope and unhitched one of the horses to help drag the tree out of the road.

“Be ready,” Kaz said. He skittered over the top of the gully to the back end of the cart. He’d left his walking stick behind in the ditch, and whatever pain he might have been feeling, he disguised it well.

He slipped his lockpicks from the lining of his coat and cradled the padlock gently, almost lovingly.

In seconds, it sprang open, and he shoved the bolt to the side. He glanced around to where the men were tying ropes around the tree and then opened the door.

Inej tensed, waiting for the signal. It didn’t come. Kaz was just standing there, staring into the wagon.

“What’s happening?” whispered Wylan.

“Maybe they aren’t hooded?” she replied. From the side, she couldn’t see. “I’ll go.” They couldn’t all bunch up around the back of the cart at once.

Inej climbed out of the gully and came up behind Kaz. He was still standing there, perfectly still.

She touched his shoulder briefly, and he flinched. Kaz Brekker flinched. What was going on? She couldn’t ask him and risk giving anything away to the listening prisoners. She peered into the wagon.

The prisoners were all cuffed and had black sacks over their heads. But there were considerably more of them than in the wagon they’d seen at the checkpoint. Instead of being seated and chained to the benches at the sides, they were standing, pressed up against one another. Their feet and hands had been shackled, and they all wore iron collars that had been clipped to hooks in the wagon’s roof.

Whenever one started to slump or lean too heavily, his or her breath would be cut off. It wasn’t pretty, though they were so tightly packed together it didn’t look like anyone could actually fall and choke.

Inej gave Kaz another little nudge. His face was pale, almost waxen, but at least this time he didn’t just stand there. He pushed himself up into the wagon, his movements jerky and awkward, and began unlocking the prisoners’ collars.

Inej signalled to Matthias, who leaped out of the gully to join them.

“What’s happening?” one of the prisoners asked in Ravkan, his voice frightened.

“Tig! ” Matthias growled harshly in Fjerdan. A rustle went through the prisoners in the truck, as if they were all coming to attention. Without meaning to, Inej had straightened her spine, too. With that word, Matthias’ whole demeanour had changed, as if with a single sharp command he’d stepped back into the uniform of a drüskelle. Inej eyed him nervously. She’d started to feel comfortable with Matthias. An easy habit to fall into, but unwise.

Kaz unlocked six sets of hand and foot shackles. One by one, Inej and Matthias unloaded the six prisoners closest to the door. There wasn’t time to consider height or build or even if they’d freed men or women. They led them to the edge of the gully, all while keeping an eye on the progress of the guards on the road. “What’s happening?” one of the captives dared to ask. But another quick “Tig! ”