When her shivering had passed, she had struggled over to the vent, only to find that it had been bolted firmly shut. It had to have been done while she was in the theater. She wasn’t surprised. She suspected Van Eck had left it unsecured just to give her hope and then snatch it away.
Eventually, her mind had begun to clear, and as she’d lain in the silence, she’d made a plan. She would talk. There were plenty of safe houses and hideouts that the Dregs had ceased to use because they’d been compromised or simply stopped being convenient. She’d start there. Then there were the supposedly secure places that belonged to some of the other Barrel gangs. She knew of a converted shipping container in Third Harbor that the Liddies occasionally used. The Razorgulls liked to hole up in a dingy hotel only a few streets over from the Slat. They called it Jam Tart House because of its faded raspberry color and the white eaves that looked like they were decorated in icing. It should take Van Eck the better part of a night to search all the rooms. She would stall. She’d lead Van Eck and his men all over Ketterdam looking for Kaz. She’d never been much of an actress, but she’d been forced to tell her share of lies at the Menagerie, and surely she’d spent enough time around Nina to learn a thing or two.
When Bajan finally appeared and removed her blindfold, he had six armed guards with him. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she suspected the entire day had gone. Bajan’s face looked sallow and he had trouble meeting her eyes. She hoped he’d lain awake all night, the weight of her words heavy on his chest. He cut her ankles free but replaced the ropes with shackles. They clanked heavily as the guards led her down the hall.
This time they took her through the back door of the theater, past flats of scenery and discarded props covered in dust, to the stage. The moth-eaten green curtains had been lowered so that the cavernous seating area and balconies were no longer visible. Closed off from the rest of the theater, warmed by the heat radiating from the stage lights, the set had a curious feeling of intimacy. It seemed less like a stage than a real surgeon’s operating room. Inej’s gaze touched the wrecked corner of the table where she’d lain the previous night and then quickly darted away.
Van Eck was waiting with the blade-nosed guard. Inej made a silent promise. Even if her plan failed, even if he smashed her legs to pulp, even if she never walked again, she’d find a way to pay him back in kind. She didn’t know how, but she’d manage it. She’d survived too much to let Jan Van Eck destroy her.
“Are you afraid, Miss Ghafa?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Such honesty. And are you prepared to tell me what you know?”
Inej took a deep breath and hung her head in what she hoped was a convincing display of reluctance. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Go on.”
“How do I know you won’t take the information and hurt me anyway?” she asked carefully.
“If the information is good, you have nothing to fear from me, Miss Ghafa. I am not a brute. I’ve employed the methods you are most accustomed to—threats, violence. The Barrel has trained you to expect such treatment.” He sounded like Tante Heleen. Why do you make me do these things? You bring these punishments on yourself, girl.
“I have your word, then?” she asked. It was absurd. Van Eck had made clear exactly what his word was worth when he’d broken their arrangement on Vellgeluk and tried to have them all killed.
But he nodded solemnly. “You do,” he said. “The deal is the deal.”
“And Kaz must never know—”
“Of course, of course,” he said with some impatience.
Inej cleared her throat. “The Blue Paradise is a club not far from the Slat. Kaz has used the rooms above it to stow stolen merchandise before.” It was true. And the rooms should still be empty. Kaz had stopped using the place after he’d discovered one of the barkeeps was in debt to the Dime Lions. He didn’t want anyone reporting on his comings and goings.
“Very good. What else?”
Inej worried her lower lip. “An apartment on Kolstraat. I don’t remember the number. It has a view of the back entrances to some of the dens on East Stave. We’ve used it for stakeouts before.”
“Is that so? Please go on.”
“There’s a shipping container—”
“Do you know something, Miss Ghafa?” Van Eck stepped closer to her. There was no anger on his face. He looked almost gleeful. “I don’t think any of these places are real leads.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“I think you intend to send me off chasing my tail while you wait for rescue or plan some other misbegotten escape attempt. But Miss Ghafa, you needn’t wait. Mister Brekker is on his way to rescue you this very minute.” He gestured to one of the guards. “Raise the curtain.”
Inej heard the creak of ropes and, slowly, the ragged curtains rose. The theater was packed with guards lining the aisles, thirty at least, maybe more, all heavily armed with rifles and cudgels, an overwhelming display of force. No , she thought, as Van Eck’s words sank in.
“That’s right, Miss Ghafa,” said Van Eck. “Your hero is coming. Mister Brekker likes to believe that he’s the smartest person in Ketterdam, so I thought I’d indulge him and let him outsmart himself. I realized that instead of hiding you, I should simply let you be found.”
Inej frowned. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. Had this merch actually outwitted Kaz? Had he used her to do it?
“I’ve been sending Bajan back and forth from Eil Komedie every day. I thought a Suli boy would be most conspicuous and any traffic to a supposedly deserted island was bound to be remarked upon. Until tonight, I wasn’t sure Brekker would bite; I was growing most anxious. But he did. Earlier this evening, two of his team were spotted on the docks preparing a gondel to launch—that big Fjerdan and the Zemeni boy. I did not have them intercepted. Much like you, they are mere pawns. Kuwei is the prize, and your Mister Brekker is finally going to give me what I am owed.”
“If you’d treated fairly with us, you’d have Kuwei already,” she said. “We risked our lives to get him out of the Ice Court. We risked everything. You should have honored your word.”
“A patriot would have offered to free Kuwei without the promise of reward.”
“A patriot? Your scheme for jurda parem will bring chaos to Kerch.”
“Markets are resilient. Kerch will endure. It may even be strengthened by the changes to come. But you and your ilk may not fare so well. How do you think the parasites of the Barrel will manage when we are at war? When honest men have no coin to squander and put their minds to toil instead of vice?”
Inej felt her lip curl. “Canal rats have a way of surviving, no matter how hard you try to stamp us out.”
He smiled. “Most of your friends won’t survive this night.”
She thought of Jesper, Nina and Matthias, sweet Wylan who deserved so much better than this filth for a father. It wasn’t just about winning for Van Eck. It was personal. “You hate us.”
“Frankly, you are of little interest to me—an acrobat or dancer or whatever you were before you became a blight on this city. But I confess Kaz Brekker does offend me. Vile, ruthless, amoral. He feeds corruption with corruption. Such a remarkable mind might have been put to great use. He might have ruled this city, built something, created profit that would have benefited all. Instead he leeches off the work of better men.”
“Better men? Like you?”
“It pains you to hear it, but it is true. When I leave this world, the greatest shipping empire ever known will remain, an engine of wealth, a tribute to Ghezen and a sign of his favor. Who will remember a girl like you, Miss Ghafa? What will you and Kaz Brekker leave behind but corpses to be burned on the Reaper’s Barge?”
A shout came from outside the theater, and a sudden hush fell as the guards turned toward the entrance doors.
Van Eck consulted his watch. “Midnight on the dot. Brekker has a flair for the dramatic.”