Crooked Kingdom (Six of Crows #2)

One of the silo guards stepped forward—rather bravely, Nina thought, given the Dime Lions’ show of force. She couldn’t make out their exchange. A paper with a vibrant red seal changed hands. The guard gave it to his companion to read. After a moment he shrugged. And then, to Nina’s horror, the guard stepped forward and unlocked the gate. The lantern on the roof of the guardhouse flashed again. They were calling off reinforcements.

The red seal. Van Eck’s color. These were his silos, and there was no way the guards would risk opening that gate for anyone their employer hadn’t sanctioned. The implications made her head spin. Could Jan Van Eck and Pekka Rollins be working together? If so, the Dregs’ chances of getting out of the city alive had just turned to crumbs on a cake plate.

“Come on out, sweet Nina. Pekka’s got work for you.”

Nina saw that the chain the boy was swinging had a heavy manacle at the end. When she’d first come to Ketterdam, Pekka Rollins had offered her employment and his dubious protection. She’d chosen to sign with the Dregs instead. It seemed Pekka was done abiding by contracts or the laws of the gangs. He was going to clap her in chains, maybe sell her to the Shu or offer her up to Van Eck so that he could dose her with parem .

Nina was sheltered in the shadows of the second silo, but there was absolutely no way for her to move more than a few paces without exposing herself. She thought of the poison pill in her pocket.

“Don’t make us come get you, girl.” The boy was gesturing for the other Dime Lions to fan out.

Nina figured she had two advantages: First, the shackle at the end of that chain meant Pekka probably wanted her alive. He wouldn’t want to sacrifice a valuable Grisha Heartrender, so they wouldn’t shoot. Second, this assembly of geniuses didn’t know the parem had disrupted her powers. She might be able to buy herself and Inej some time.

Nina shook out her hair, summoned every bit of her courage, and strolled into the open. Instantly, she heard the sound of triggers cocking.

“Easy now,” she said, planting a hand on one hip. “I’m not going to be much good to Pekka if you plug me full of holes like the top of a saltshaker.”

“Well, hello, Grisha girl. You gonna make this fun for us?”

Depends on your definition. “What’s your name, handsome?”

The boy smiled, revealing a gold tooth and a surprisingly charming dimple. “Eamon.”

“That’s a nice Kaelish name. Ken ye hom? ”

“Ma was Kaelish. I don’t speak that gibber.”

“Well, how about you get your friends here to relax and lower those weapons so I can teach you some new words.”

“I don’t think so. I know the way them Heartrender powers work. Not letting you get hold of my insides.”

“Shame,” Nina said. “Listen, Eamon, there’s no need for trouble to night. I just want to know Pekka’s terms. If I’m going to cross Kaz, I need to know the pain is worth the price—”

“Kaz Brekker’s good as dead, darlin’. And Pekka ain’t offering no terms. You’re coming with us, in chains or out.”

Nina raised her arms and saw the men around her stiffen, ready to fire, regardless of Pekka’s orders. She turned the movement into a lazy stretch. “Eamon, you do know that before you clap me in those chains I could turn half these gents’ internal organs to goo.”

“You’re not fast enough.”

“I’m fast enough to make sure you never”—her eyes gave a meaningful slide below his belt buckle—“raise a flag on West Stave again.”

Now Eamon paled. “You can’t do that.”

Nina cracked her knuckles. “Can’t I?”

A soft clang sounded from somewhere above them, and they all pointed their guns skyward. Damn it, Inej, keep quiet. But when Nina looked up, her thoughts stuttered to a terrified halt. Inej was back on the wire. And she wasn’t alone.

For a moment, Nina thought she might be hallucinating as she watched the figure in white follow Inej onto the wire. She looked like a phantom floating in the air above them. Then she hurled something through the air. Nina caught a glint of metal. She didn’t see it hit, but she saw Inej’s steps falter. Inej righted herself, her posture ruthless, arms extended for balance.

There had to be a way to help her. Nina reached out to the girl in white with her power, searching for her pulse, the fiber of her muscles, something she could control, but again there was that terrible blindness, that nothingness.

“Not gonna help your friend?” Eamon said.

“She can manage for herself,” said Nina.

Eamon smirked. “You’re not nearly as tough as we heard. Big talk, no action.” He turned to his crew. “I buy drinks all night for the first one to grab her.”

They didn’t rush her. They weren’t foolish enough for that. They advanced slowly, guns raised. Nina threw her hands up. They stopped, wary. But when nothing happened, she saw them exchange glances, a few smiles, and now they were coming faster, losing their fear, ready to take their reward.

Nina risked a glance upward. Inej was still somehow keeping her balance. She seemed to be attempting to make her way back to the first silo, but she’d clearly been injured and her walk was unsteady.

The net. But it was no good to Nina alone. If she had a bit of parem , just a taste of it, she could force these big idiots to help her. They’d obey her without thinking.

Her mind reached out, grasping for something, anything. She would not just stand here helpless to be taken captive and watch Inej die. But all she felt was a great black void. There were no convenient bone shards, no dust to seize. The world that had once teemed with life, with heartbeats, breath, the rush of blood, had been stripped bare. It was all black desert, starless sky, barren earth.

One of the Dime Lions rushed forward and then they were all lunging at her, grabbing onto her arms, dragging her toward Eamon, whose face split with a grin, his dimple curving in a half moon.

Nina released a howl of pure rage, thrashing like a wild animal. She was not helpless. She refused to be. I know no fiercer warrior, powers or not.

Then she felt it—there, in that black desert, a pocket of cold so deep it burned. There, past the silos, in the wedge of the canal, on the way to the harbor—the sickboat, piled high with bodies. A throb of recognition pulsed through her. She didn’t sense heartbeats or blood flow, but she could feel something else, something other. She thought of the bone shards, remembered the comfort she’d felt on Black Veil, surrounded by graves.

Eamon tried to clap one of the shackles onto her wrist.

“Let’s put the collar on her too!” another Dime Lion shouted.

She felt a hand in her hair, her head wrenched back to expose her neck. Nina knew what she was thinking was madness, but she was out of sane choices. With all her remaining strength, she kicked hard at Eamon, breaking his grip. She threw her arms out in a wide arc, focusing this strange new awareness, and she felt the bodies on the barge rise. She clenched her fists. Come to me.

The Dime Lions seized her wrists. Eamon struck her across the mouth, but she kept her fists clenched, her mind focused. This wasn’t the exhilaration she’d felt on parem . That had been heat, fire, light. This was a cold flame, one that burned low and blue. She felt the corpses rise, one after another, answering her call. Nina was conscious of hands on her, chains being lashed around her wrists, but the cold was deeper now, a fast-flowing winter river, black rapids jagged with broken ice.

Nina heard screaming, the rattle of gunfire, and then the twist of metal. The hands on her loosened, and the chains hit the cobblestones with an almost musical jangle. Nina drew her arms toward her, plunging further into the cold of the river.