“No,” said Kaz. “Too much to lose. And he gave us a map to what to steal first.”
He’d pushed himself to his feet and begun laying out the plans for kidnapping Alys. Instead of trying to rescue Inej as Van Eck expected, they would force Van Eck to trade her for his very pregnant wife. The first trick had been finding her. Van Eck was no fool. Kaz suspected that he’d gotten Alys out of the city as soon as he’d made his false deal with them, and their initial investigations supported that. Van Eck wouldn’t keep his wife in a warehouse or factory or industrial building, and she was at neither of the hotels he owned, or at the Van Eck country house or his two farms near Elsmeer. It was possible he’d spirited her away to some farm or holding across the True Sea, but Kaz doubted he’d put the woman carrying his heir through a grueling sea voyage.
“Van Eck must be keeping property off the books,” Kaz had said. “Probably income too.”
Jesper frowned. “Isn’t not paying your taxes … I don’t know, sacrilegious? I thought he was all about serving Ghezen.”
“Ghezen and Kerch aren’t the same thing,” Wylan said.
Of course, uncovering those secret properties had meant gaining access to Cornelis Smeet’s office, and another series of deceptions. Matthias hated the dishonesty of it all, but he couldn’t deny the value of the information they’d obtained. Thanks to Smeet’s files, Kaz had located the lake house, a fine property ten miles south of the city, easy to defend, comfortably appointed, and listed under the Hendriks name.
Always hit where the mark isn’t looking. It was sound thinking, Matthias could admit—military thinking, in fact. When you were outgunned and outmanned, you sought the less defended targets. Van Eck had expected a rescue attempt on Inej, so that was where he’d concentrated his forces. And Kaz had encouraged that, telling Matthias and Jesper to be as conspicuous as possible when they brought a gondel down to one of the private berths at Fifth Harbor. At eleven bells, Rotty and Specht had left Kuwei at Black Veil and, dressed in heavy cloaks to hide their faces, launched the boat, making a tremendous show of shouting to supposed compatriots setting out from other berths—most of them confused tourists who weren’t sure why strange men were yelling at them from a gondel .
It had taken everything in Matthias not to argue when Kaz had paired Nina with Jesper in the assault on the lake house, despite the fact that he knew the partnership made sense. They needed to take out the guards quietly to prevent anyone from raising an alarm or panicking. Matthias’ combat training made that possible, as did Nina’s Grisha abilities, so they’d been split up. Jesper and Wylan had noisier talents, so they would enter the fray only as a last resort. Also, Matthias knew if he started trailing after Nina on missions like some kind of watchdog, she’d put her hands on those glorious hips and demonstrate her knowledge of profanity in several different languages. Still, he was the only one besides perhaps Kuwei who knew how she’d suffered since they’d returned from the Ice Court. It had been hard to watch her go.
They’d approached from across the lake and made quick work of the few guards on the perimeter. Most of the villas along the shore were empty, as it was too early in the season for the weather to have gotten properly warm. But lights had burned in the windows of the Van Eck house—or, rather, the Hendriks house. The property had belonged to Wylan’s mother’s family for generations before Van Eck had ever set foot through the door.
It almost didn’t feel like a break-in; one of the guards had actually been dozing in the gazebo. Matthias didn’t realize there had been a casualty until the count on the guards had come up short, but there hadn’t been time to question Nina and Jesper about what had gone wrong. They’d tied up the remaining guards, herded them and the rest of the staff into the pantry, and then swept up the stairs to the second floor wearing the masks of the Komedie Brute. They’d stopped outside the music room, where Alys was perched precariously on the bench of a pianoforte. Though they had expected to find her asleep, she was laboring her way through some piece of music.
“Saints, what is that noise?” Nina had whispered.
“I think it’s ‘Be Still, Little Bumble Bee,’ ” said Wylan from behind the mask and horns of his Gray Imp ensemble. “But it’s hard to tell.”
When they’d entered the music room, the silky-haired terrier at her feet had the sense to growl, but poor, pretty, pregnant Alys had just looked up from her sheet music and said, “Is this a play?”
“Yes, love,” said Jesper gently, “and you’re the star.”
They’d tucked her into a warm coat, then shepherded her out of the house and into the waiting boat. She’d been so docile that Nina had become concerned. “Maybe she’s not getting enough blood to her brain?” she’d murmured to Matthias.
Matthias hadn’t been sure how to account for Alys’ demeanor. He remembered his mother muddling the simplest things when she was pregnant with his baby sister. She’d walked all the way down to the village from their little house before she’d realized she was wearing her boots on the wrong feet.
But halfway back to the city, when Nina had bound Alys’ hands and tied a blindfold over her eyes, securing it tightly to the neat braids coiled atop her head, the reality of her situation must have started to sink in. She’d begun to sniffle, wiping her running nose on her velvet sleeve. The sniffling became a kind of wobbly deep breathing, and by the time they’d gotten Alys settled comfortably at the tomb and even found a little cushion for her feet, she’d let out a long wail.
“I want to go hooooooome,” she’d cried. “I want my dog.”
From then on, the crying hadn’t stopped. Kaz had eventually thrown his hands up in frustration, and they’d all stepped outside the tomb to try to find some quiet.
“Are pregnant women always like this?” Nina had moaned.
Matthias glanced inside the stone hull. “Only the kidnapped ones.”
“I can’t hear myself think,” she said.
“Maybe if we took the blindfold off?” Wylan suggested. “We could wear our Komedie Brute masks.”
Kaz shook his head. “We can’t risk her leading Van Eck back here.”
“She’s going to make herself ill,” said Matthias.
“We’re in the middle of a job,” Kaz said. “There’s a lot that has to happen before the exchange tomorrow. Someone find a way to shut her up, or I will.”
“She’s a frightened girl—” Wylan protested.
“I didn’t ask for a description.”
But Wylan kept on. “Kaz, promise me you won’t—”
“Before you finish that sentence, I want you to think about what a promise from me costs and what you’re willing to pay for it.”
“It’s not her fault her parents shoved her into a marriage with my father.”
“Alys isn’t here because she did something wrong. She’s here because she’s leverage.”
“She’s just a pregnant girl—”
“Getting pregnant isn’t actually a special talent. Ask any luckless girl in the Barrel.”
“Inej wouldn’t want—”
In the space of a breath, Kaz had shoved Wylan against the tomb wall with his forearm, the crow head of his cane wedged beneath Wylan’s jaw. “Tell me my business again.” Wylan swallowed, parted his lips. “Do it,” said Kaz. “And I’ll cut the tongue from your head and feed it to the first stray cat I find.”
“Kaz—” Jesper said cautiously. Kaz ignored him.
Wylan’s lips flattened to a thin, stubborn line. The boy really didn’t know what was good for him. Matthias wondered if he’d have to try to intercede on Wylan’s behalf, but Kaz had released him. “Someone stick a cork in that girl before I get back,” he said, and strode off into the graveyard.
Matthias rolled his eyes heavenward. These lunatics all needed a solid six months in boot camp and possibly a sound beating.
“Best not to mention Inej,” Jesper said as Wylan dusted himself off. “You know, if you feel like continuing to live.”