“I knew of him. Most of the Grisha in Ketterdam know about each other. We share information, try to keep an eye out for one another. The Shu must have spies here if they knew where to look for each of us. The other Grisha—” Nina stood up, then grabbed the back of her chair, as if the sudden movement had made her woozy.
Inej and Matthias were on their feet instantly.
“Are you all right?” Inej asked.
“Splendid,” Nina said with an unconvincing smile. “But if the other Grisha in Ketterdam are in danger—”
“You’re going to do what?” Jesper said, and Inej was surprised by the harsh edge to his voice. “You’re lucky to be alive after what happened today. Those Shu soldiers can smell us, Nina.” He turned on Kuwei. “Your father made that possible.”
“Hey,” said Wylan, “go easy.”
“Go easy? Like things weren’t bad enough for the Grisha before? What if they track us to Black Veil? There are three of us here.”
Kaz rapped his knuckles against the table. “Wylan’s right. Go easy. The city wasn’t safe before and it isn’t safe now. So let’s all get rich enough to relocate.”
Nina placed her hands on her hips. “Are we really talking about money?”
“We’re talking about the job and making Van Eck pay up.”
Inej looped her arm through Nina’s. “I want to know what we can do to help the Grisha who are still in Ketterdam.” She saw the mallet glint as it reached the top of its arc. “And I’d also like to know how we’re going to make Van Eck suffer.”
“There are bigger issues here,” said Matthias.
“Not for me,” Jesper said. “I have two days left to get right with my father.”
Inej wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “Your father?”
“Yup. Family reunion in Ketterdam,” said Jesper. “Everyone’s invited.”
Inej wasn’t fooled by Jesper’s airy tone. “The loan?”
His hands returned to his revolvers. “Yeah. So I’d really like to know just how we intend to settle this score.”
Kaz shifted his weight on his cane. “Have any of you wondered what I did with all the cash Pekka Rollins gave us?”
Inej’s gut clenched. “You went to Pekka Rollins for a loan?”
“I would never go into debt with Rollins. I sold him my shares in Fifth Harbor and the Crow Club.”
No. Kaz had built those places from nothing. They were testaments to what he’d done for the Dregs. “Kaz—”
“Where do you think the money went?” he repeated.
“Guns?” asked Jesper.
“Ships?” queried Inej.
“Bombs?” suggested Wylan.
“Political bribes?” offered Nina. They all looked at Matthias. “This is where you tell us how awful we are,” she whispered.
He shrugged. “They all seem like practical choices.”
“Sugar,” said Kaz.
Jesper nudged the sugar bowl down the table to him.
Kaz rolled his eyes. “Not for my coffee, you podge. I used the money to buy up sugar shares and placed them in private accounts for all of us—under aliases, of course.”
“I don’t like speculation,” said Matthias.
“Of course you don’t. You like things you can see. Like piles of snow and benevolent tree gods.”
“Oh, there it is!” said Inej, resting her head on Nina’s shoulder and beaming at Matthias. “I missed his glower.”
“Besides,” Kaz said, “it’s hardly speculation if you know the outcome.”
“You know something about the sugar crop?” Jesper asked.
“I know something about the supply.”
Wylan sat up straighter. “The silos,” he said. “The silos at Sweet Reef.”
“Very good, merchling.”
Matthias shook his head. “What’s Sweet Reef?”
“It’s an area just south of Sixth Harbor,” said Inej. She remembered the view of the vast silos towering over the warehouse district. They were the size of small mountains. “It’s where they keep molasses, raw cane, and the processing plants to refine sugar. We were right near there today. That wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
“No,” said Kaz. “I wanted you to get a look at the terrain. Most sugar cane comes from the Southern Colonies and Novyi Zem, but there won’t be another crop until three months from now. This season’s crop has already been harvested, processed, refined, and stored in the Sweet Reef silos.”
“There are thirty silos,” said Wylan. “My father owns ten of them.”
Jesper whistled. “Van Eck controls one-third of the world’s sugar supply?”
“He owns the silos ,” said Kaz, “but only a fraction of the sugar inside them. He maintains the silos at his own expense, supplies guards for them, and pays the Squallers who monitor the humidity inside the silos to make sure the sugar stays dry and separated. The merchants who own the sugar pay him a small percentage of every one of their sales. It adds up quickly.”
“Such enormous wealth under one man’s protection,” Matthias considered. “If anything were to happen to those silos, the price of sugar—”
“Would go off like a cheap pair of six-shooters,” Jesper said, popping to his feet and starting to pace.
“The price would climb and keep climbing,” said Kaz. “And as of a few days ago, we own shares in the companies that don’t store sugar with Van Eck. Right now, they’re worth about what we paid for them. But once we destroy the sugar in Van Eck’s silos—”
Jesper was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Our shares will be worth five—maybe ten—times what they are now.”
“Try twenty.”
Jesper hooted. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“We could sell at a huge profit,” said Wylan. “We’d be rich overnight.”
Inej thought of a sleek schooner, weighted with heavy cannon. It could be hers. “Thirty million kruge rich?” she asked. The reward Van Eck owed them for the Ice Court job. One he’d never intended to pay.
The barest smile ghosted over Kaz’s lips. “Give or take a million.”
Wylan was gnawing on his thumbnail. “My father can weather a loss. The other merchants, the ones who own the sugar in his silos, will be hit worse.”
“True,” said Matthias. “And if we destroy the silos, it will be clear Van Eck was targeted.”
“We could try to make it look like an accident,” suggested Nina.
“It will,” said Kaz. “Initially. Thanks to the weevil. Tell them, Wylan.”
Wylan sat forward like a schoolboy eager to prove he had the answers. He drew a vial from his pocket. “This version works.”
“It’s a weevil?” Inej asked, examining it.
“A chemical weevil,” said Jesper. “But Wylan still hasn’t named it. My vote is for the Wyvil.”
“That’s terrible,” said Wylan.
“It’s brilliant.” Jesper winked. “Just like you.”
Wylan blushed daylily pink.
“I helped as well,” added Kuwei, looking sulky.
“He did help,” Wylan said.
“We’ll make him a plaque,” said Kaz. “Tell them how it works.”
Wylan cleared his throat. “I got the idea from cane blight—just a little bit of bacteria can ruin a whole crop. Once the weevil is dropped into the silo, it will keep burrowing down, using the refined sugar as fuel until the sugar is nothing but useless mush.”
“It reacts to sugar?” asked Jesper.
“Yes, any kind of sugar. Even trace amounts if there’s enough moisture present, so keep it away from sweat, blood, saliva.”
“Do not lick Wyvil. Does someone want to write that down?”
“Those silos are huge,” said Inej. “How much will we need?”
“One vial for each silo,” Wylan said.
Inej blinked at the small glass tube. “Truly?”
“Tiny and ferocious,” Jesper said. He winked again. “Just like you .”
Nina burst out laughing, and Inej couldn’t help returning Jesper’s grin. Her body ached and she would have liked to sleep for two days straight, but she felt some part of herself uncoiling, releasing the terror and anger of the last week.
“The weevil will make the destruction of the sugar look like an accident,” said Wylan.
“It will,” said Kaz, “until the other merchants learn that Van Eck has been buying up sugar that isn’t stored in his silos.”
Wylan’s eyes widened. “What?”