For the briefest moment, Kaz and Van Eck sized each other up from across the bridge. Kaz couldn’t help but be reminded of when they’d faced each other this way seven days ago. He’d thought too much about that meeting. Late at night, when the day’s work was done, he’d lain awake, taking apart every moment of it. Again and again, Kaz thought of those few crucial seconds when he’d let his attention shift to Inej instead of keeping his eyes on Van Eck. It wasn’t a mistake he could afford to make again. That boy had betrayed his weakness in a single glance, had ceded the war for the sake of a single battle, and put Inej—all of them— in danger. He was a wounded animal who needed to be put down. And Kaz had done it gladly, choked the life from him without pause for regret. The Kaz that remained saw only the job: Free Inej. Make Van Eck pay. The rest was useless noise.
He’d thought about Van Eck’s mistakes on Vellgeluk too. The mercher had been stupid enough to trumpet the fact that his precious heir was cooking in the womb of his new wife—young Alys Van Eck, with her milk-white hair and dumpling hands. He’d been goaded by pride, but also by his hatred for Wylan, his desire to clear his son from the books like a failed business venture.
Kaz and Van Eck exchanged the shortest of nods. Kaz kept a gloved hand on Alys’ shoulder. He doubted she would try to run off, but who knew what ideas were pinging around in the girl’s head? Then Van Eck signaled to his men to bring Inej forward, and Kaz and Alys started across the bridge. In the blink of an eye, Kaz took in Inej’s odd gait, the way she held her arms behind her back. They’d bound her hands and shackled her ankles. A reasonable precaution , he told himself. I’d have done the same thing. But he felt that flint inside him, scraping against the hollow places, ready to ignite into rage. He thought again about simply killing Van Eck. Patience , he reminded himself. He’d practiced it early and often. Patience would bring all his enemies to their knees in time. Patience and the money he intended to take off this merch scum.
“Do you think he’s handsome?” Alys asked.
“What?” Kaz said, unsure he had heard her correctly. She’d been humming and singing all the way from the market where Kaz had removed her blindfold, and he’d been doing his best to tune her out.
“Something has happened to Jan’s nose,” Alys said.
“I suspect he caught a bad case of the Wraith.”
Alys wrinkled her own small nose, considering. “I think Jan would be handsome, if he were not quite so old.”
“Lucky for you, we live in a world where men can make up for being old by being rich.”
“It would be nice if he were both young and rich.”
“Why stop there? How about young, rich, and royal? Why settle for a merch when you could have a prince?”
“I suppose,” said Alys. “But it’s the money that’s important. I’ve never really seen the point in princes.”
Well, no one would ever doubt this girl was Kerch born and raised. “Alys, I’m shocked to find you and I are in agreement.”
Kaz monitored the periphery of the bridge as they drew closer to the center, keeping a careful eye on Van Eck’s guards, noting the open doors of the third-floor balcony at the Ammbers Hotel, the flower barge parked below the west side of the bridge as it was every morning. He assumed Van Eck would have people positioned in the surrounding buildings just as he did. But none of them would be permitted to land a kill shot. No doubt Van Eck would love to see him floating facedown in a canal, but Kaz could lead Van Eck to Kuwei, and that knowledge should keep him from taking a bullet to the skull.
They stopped a good ten paces apart. Alys tried to step forward, but Kaz held her firmly in place.
“You said you were bringing me to Jan,” she objected.
“And here you are,” Kaz said. “Now be still.”
“Jan!” she yelped sharply. “It’s me!”
“I know, my dear,” Van Eck said calmly, his gaze locked on Kaz. He lowered his voice. “This isn’t over, Brekker. I want Kuwei Yul-Bo.”
“Are we here to repeat ourselves? You want the secret to jurda parem , and I want my money. The deal is the deal.”
“I don’t have thirty million kruge to part with.”
“Isn’t that a shame? I’m sure someone else does.”
“And have you had any luck securing a new buyer?”
“Don’t trouble yourself on my account, merch. The market will provide. Do you want your wife back or did I drag poor Alys here for nothing?”
“Just a moment,” said Van Eck. “Alys, what are we naming the child?”
“Very good,” Kaz said. His team had passed off Wylan as Kuwei Yul-Bo on Vellgeluk, and Van Eck had been well fooled. Now the merch wanted confirmation he was actually getting his wife and not some girl with a radically tailored face and a false belly. “Seems an old dog can learn a new trick. Besides rolling over.”
Van Eck ignored him. “Alys,” he repeated, “what name are we giving the child?”
“The baby?” replied Alys in confusion. “Jan if it’s a boy. Plumje if it’s a girl.”
“We agreed Plumje is what you’re naming your new parakeet.”
Alys’ lip jutted out. “I never agreed.”
“Oh, I think Plumje is a lovely name for a girl,” said Kaz. “Satisfied, merch?”
“Come,” Van Eck said, ushering Alys forward as he signaled to the guard holding Inej to release her.
As Inej passed Van Eck, she turned her face to him and murmured something. Van Eck’s lips pinched.
Inej shuffled forward, somehow graceful, even with her arms bound behind her and shackles around her ankles. Ten feet. Five feet. Van Eck embraced Alys as she let loose a stream of questions and chatter. Three feet. Inej’s gaze was steady. She was thinner. Her lips were chapped. But despite long days in captivity, the sun caught the dark gleam of her hair beneath her hood. Two feet. And then she was before him. They still needed to get clear of the bridge. Van Eck would not let them go this easily.
“Your knives?” he asked.
“They’re packed inside my coat.”
Van Eck had released Alys, and she was being led away by his guards. Those red-and-gold uniforms still bothered Kaz. Something was off.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, an oyster knife in his hands to see to her ropes.
“Mister Brekker,” Van Eck said. Kaz heard the excitement in Van Eck’s voice and froze. Maybe the man was better at bluffing than he’d given him credit for. “You gave me your word, Kaz Brekker!” Van Eck shouted in theatrical tones. Everyone within earshot on the Stave turned to stare. “You swore you would return my wife and son to me! Where are you keeping Wylan?”
And then Kaz saw them—a tide of purple moving toward the bridge, stadwatch flooding onto the Stave, rifles raised, cudgels drawn.
Kaz lifted a brow. The merch was finally making it interesting.
“Seal off the bridge!” one of them shouted. Kaz glanced over his shoulder and saw more stadwatch officers blocking their retreat.
Van Eck grinned. “Shall we play for real now, Mister Brekker? The might of my city against your band of thugs?”
Kaz didn’t bother to answer. He shoved Inej’s shoulder and she spun around, offering her wrists so he could slash through her bonds. He tossed the knife in the air, trusting her to catch it as he knelt to deal with her shackles, his picks already sliding between his fingers. Kaz heard the clomp of boots approaching, felt Inej bend backward over his kneeling form, and heard a soft whoosh , then the sound of a body falling. The lock gave beneath Kaz’s fingers and the shackles fell free. He rose, whirled, saw one stadwatch officer down, the shaft of the oyster knife protruding from between his eyes, and more purple uniforms rushing toward them from all directions.
He raised his cane to signal Jesper.
“West side flower boat,” he said to Inej. That was all it took—she leapt onto the railing of the bridge and vanished over the side without a second guess.
The first set of fireworks exploded overhead, pale color in the noon light. The plan was in motion.