They crashed through to the first floor in a cloud of plaster and dust, right onto a dinner table that collapsed beneath their weight.
Candlesticks and dishes went rolling. Kaz sprang to his feet, cane in his hand, gravy dripping from his coat, then hauled Wylan up beside him.
He had a brief moment to register the startled expressions of the merchers around the table, their mouths wide with shock, napkins still in their laps. Then Van Eck was screaming, “Seize them!” and Kaz and Wylan were leaping over a fallen ham and sprinting down the black-and-white-tiled hall.
Two liveried guards stepped in front of the glass-paneled doors that opened onto the back garden, lifting their rifles.
Kaz put on a spurt of speed and dropped into a slide. He braced his cane horizontally across his chest and shot between the guards, letting the cane bash into their shins, knocking them from their feet.
Wylan trailed after him, tumbling down the stairs into the garden. Then they were at the boathouse, over the railing, and into the gondel Rotty had kept waiting in the canal.
A bullet pinged into the side of the boat as gunfire peppered the water around them. He and Rotty seized their oars.
“Drop heavy,” Kaz shouted, and Wylan let loose with every rocket, flash bomb, and bit of demo he’d been able to fit into the boat. The sky above the Van Eck house exploded in an array of light, smoke, and sound as the guards dove for cover.
Kaz put his arms to work, feeling the boat slide into the current as they passed into the glittering traffic of the Geldcanal.
“In and out without him ever knowing?” said Rotty.
“I was half right,” growled Kaz.
“We have to warn the others,” Wylan gasped. “Rollins said—”
“Pekka Rollins was there?” Rotty asked, and Kaz heard the fear in his voice. A canal rat would take on a thousand thugs and thieves, merchers and mercenaries, but not Pekka Rollins.
Kaz tipped one of his oars, steering the boat starboard and barely missing a browboat full of tourists.
“We have to go back to Black Veil. The others—”
“Shut up, Wylan, I need to think.”
Jesper and Matthias were both good in a fight. If anyone had a chance of getting Kuwei off Black Veil, they did. But how had Pekka found them? Someone must have been followed to the island. They’d all taken risks that day, ventured away from Black Veil. Any one of them might have been spotted and pursued. Nina and Matthias? Wylan and Jesper? Kaz himself? Once Pekka had located their hideout, he would have kept them under surveillance every minute, just waiting for them to separate and make themselves vulnerable.
Kaz flexed his shoulders, and Rotty matched his pace, the strokes of their oars driving the boat forward faster through the current. He needed to get them into traffic and as far away from Van Eck’s house as possible. He needed to get to Sweet Reef. Rollins’ men would have followed Inej and Nina there from Black Veil. Why had he sent them to the silos alone? Nina and her precious refugees. There would be no grand rescue for the Grisha tonight. All their chances were shot to hell. I’ve also prepared something special for the Wraith. To hell with revenge, to hell with his schemes. If Rollins had done something to Inej, Kaz would paint East Stave with his entrails.
Think. When one plan was blown, you made a new one. When they backed you into a corner, you cut a hole in the roof. But he couldn’t fix something he couldn’t catch hold of. The plan had gone slippery. He’d failed them. He’d failed her. All because he seemed to have some kind of blind spot where Pekka Rollins was concerned. Jesper could be dead already. Inej could be bleeding on the streets of Sweet Reef.
He turned his oars. “We’re going to the warehouse district.”
“What about the others?”
“Jesper and Matthias are fighters, and there’s no way Pekka’s going to risk harming Kuwei. We’re going to Sweet Reef.”
“You said we’d be safe on Black Veil,” Wylan protested. “You said—”
“There is no safe ,” Kaz snarled. “Not in the Barrel. Not anywhere.” He threw his strength into rowing. No seal. No ship. Their money spent.
“What do we do now?” Wylan said quietly, his voice barely audible above the sound of the water and the other boats on the canal.
“Pick up a pair of oars and make yourself useful,” said Kaz. “Or I’ll put your pampered ass in the drink and let your father fish you out.”
N ina heard them before she saw them. She was positioned between the second and third silos, where she could watch Inej’s progress and keep an eye on the guardhouse.
Inej had climbed the silo like a tiny, nimble spider moving at a pace that made Nina tired just watching her. The angle was steep enough that she could barely see Inej once she’d reached the top, so Nina couldn’t tell what progress she was making with the hatch. But Inej didn’t start crossing when Nina gave the first signal, so she must have had some delay with the lines or with the weevil. At the second signal, Nina saw her step out over nothing.
From where Nina waited, the high wire was invisible in the dark, and it looked as if Inej was levitating, each step precise, considered. There—the faintest wobble. Now—a small correction. Nina’s heart beat a skittering rhythm as she watched. She had the absurd feeling that if she let her own focus waver for even a second, Inej might fall, as if Nina’s concentration and faith were helping keep her aloft.
When Inej finally reached the second silo, Nina wanted to cheer, but she settled for a brief, silent dance. Then she waited for the guards to come back into view on the western side of the perimeter. They stopped at the guardhouse for a few minutes and set out again. Nina was about to signal Inej when she heard the sound of rowdy laughter. The guards noticed too, suddenly alert. Nina saw one of them ignite the signal lantern atop the guardhouse to call reinforcements—a precautionary measure in case of trouble. Riots had been known to happen, and with the chaos in West Stave the previous day, Nina wasn’t surprised the guards were quick to call for help.
It seemed they might need it. Nina knew a crew of Barrel thugs when she saw one, and this seemed like a nasty lot, all of them large, thickly muscled, and heavily armed. Most of them had guns, a sure sign they were looking for more than a scuffle. The one in the lead wore a checked waistcoat across his broad chest and was swinging a chain in his hands. On his forearm, Nina could see a circular tattoo. She couldn’t make out the details from this distance, but she would have bet good money that it was a lion curled into a crown. The Dime Lions. Pekka Rollins’ boys. What the hell were they doing here?
Nina glanced up. Inej would be putting the weevil in the second silo. Hopefully she was out of their view. But just what did Pekka’s gang want?
The answer came moments later. “Heard there was a Heartrender hiding out in Sweet Reef,” said the boy in the checked waistcoat loudly, still swinging that chain.
Oh, Saints, that’s bad. Had the Dime Lions followed her and Inej from Black Veil? Were the others in trouble? And what if Pekka Rollins and his gang knew about the Grisha at the embassy? Some of them were violating their indentures by trying to leave the city. They could be blackmailed or worse. Pekka could sell them to the Shu. You have your own problems right now, Zenik , said a voice in her head. Stop worrying about saving the world and save your own ass. Sometimes her inner voice could be very wise.