Six of Crows (Six of Crows #1)(107)
making things vanish.
“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m taking my share, and I’m leaving the Dregs.”
He looked away. “You should. You were always too good for the Barrel.”
It was time to go. “Saints’ speed, Kaz.”
Kaz snagged her wrist. “Inej.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, traced the top of the feather tattoo. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know …”
She waited. She felt hope rustling its wings inside her, ready to take flight at the right words from Kaz. She willed that hope into stillness. Those words would never come. The heart is an arrow.
She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even knock her hand away. In nearly two years of battling side by side with Kaz, of late-night scheming, impossible heists, clandestine errands, and harried meals of fried potatoes and hutspot gobbled down as they rushed from one place to another, this was the first time she had touched him skin to skin, without the barrier of gloves or coat or shirtsleeve. She let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, but she saw a tremor pass through him, as if he were waging a war with himself.
“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”
His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will for him to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.
She dropped her hand. He took a deep breath.
Kaz had said he didn’t want her prayers and she wouldn’t speak them, but she wished him safe nonetheless. She had her aim now, her heart had direction, and though it hurt to know that path led away from him, she could endure it.
Inej joined Nina at the edge of the dome to await the arrival of the Menagerie. The dome was wide and shallow, all silver filigree and glass. Inej saw there was a mosaic on the floor of the vast rotunda below. It appeared in brief flashes between partygoers – two wolves chasing each other, destined to move in circles for as long as the Ice Court stood.
The guests entering through the grand archway were being shepherded into rooms off the rotunda in small groups to be searched for weapons. Inej saw guards emerge with little piles of brooches, porcupine quills, even sashes that Inej assumed must contain metal or wire.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” said Nina. “You don’t have to put those silks on again.”
“I’ve done worse.”
“I know. You scaled six storeys of hell for us.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Nina paused. “I know that, too.” She hesitated, then said, “Is the haul so important to you?” Inej was surprised to hear what sounded like guilt in Nina’s voice.
The Elderclock began to chime nine bells. Inej looked down at the wolves chasing each other around the rotunda floor. “I’m not sure why I began this,” she admitted. “But I know why I have to finish. I know why fate brought me here, why it placed me in the path of this prize.”
She was being vague, but she wasn’t yet ready to speak the dream that had ignited in her heart – a crew of her own, a ship under her command, a crusade. It felt like something that was meant to be kept secret, a new seed that might grow to something extraordinary if it wasn’t forced to bloom too soon. She didn’t even know how to sail. And yet a part of her wanted to tell Nina all of it. If Nina didn’t choose to go back to Ravka, a Heartrender would be an excellent addition to her crew.
“They’re here,” Nina said.
The girls of the Menagerie entered through the rotunda doors in a wedge formation, their gowns glittering in the candlelight, the hoods of their capes shadowing their faces. Each hood was fashioned to represent an animal – a Zemeni fawn with soft ears and delicate white spots, a Kaelish mare with an auburn topknot, a Shu serpent with beaded red scales, a Ravkan fox, a leopard from the Southern Colonies, a raven, an ermine, and of course the Suli lynx. The tall blonde girl who played the role of the Fjerdan wolf in silvery furs was notably absent.
They were met by uniformed female guards.
“I don’t see her,” said Nina.
“Just wait. The Peacock will enter last.”
And sure enough, there she was: Heleen Van Houden, shimmering in teal satin, an elaborate ruff of peacock feathers framing her golden head.
“Subtle,” said Nina.
“Subtle doesn’t sell in the Barrel.”
Inej gave a high, trilling whistle. Jesper ’s whistle came back from somewhere in the distance. This is it, Inej thought. She’d shoved, and now the boulder was rolling down the hill. Who knew what damage it might do and what might be built on the rubble?
Nina squinted down through the glass. “How does she keep from collapsing under the weight of
those diamonds? They can’t possibly be real.”
“Oh, they’re real,” said Inej. Those jewels had been purchased with the sweat and blood and sorrow of girls like her.
The guards divided the members of the Menagerie into three groups, while Heleen was escorted
separately. The Peacock would never be expected to turn out her clothes and lift her skirts in front of her girls.
“Them,” Inej said, pointing to the group that included the Suli lynx and Kaelish mare. They were heading to the doors on the left of the rotunda.