Crooked Kingdom (39 page)

“Get ready,” he murmured.

“Kaz—” Wylan protested.

Kaz tossed the seal to Rollins and in the same motion splashed the remaining acid onto the floor. The room filled with heat and the carpet hissed as a plume of acrid smoke rose from it.

“Stop them!” Rollins shouted.

“See you on the other side,” said Kaz. He grabbed his cane and smashed it into the boards beneath their feet. The floor gave way with a groan.

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.”

 

22

N
INA

Nina 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.

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 tonight. 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.