Six of Crows (Six of Crows #1)(134)

“Traitor,” Brum said from behind his mask. “Betrayer of your country and your god. You will not leave this harbour alive. None of you will.” His men must have got him out of the treasury after the explosion. Had they followed Matthias and Nina to the river beneath the ash? Had there been horses or more tanks stationed in the upper town?

Nina raised her hands. “For Matthias, I will give you one chance to leave us be.”

“You cannot control us, witch,” said Brum. “Our hoods, our masks, every stitch of clothing we wear is reinforced with Grisha steel. Corecloth created to our specifications by Grisha Fabrikators under our control and designed for just this purpose. You cannot force us to your will. You cannot harm us. This game is at an end.”

Nina lifted a hand. Nothing happened, and Matthias knew what Brum was saying was true.

“Go!” Matthias shouted at them. “Please! You—”

Brum lifted his gun and fired. The bullet struck Matthias directly in the chest. The pain was sudden and terrible – and then gone. Before his eyes, he saw the bullet emerge from his chest. It hit the ground with a plink. He pulled his shirt open. There was no wound.

Nina was walking past him. “No!” he cried.

The drüskelle opened fire on her. He saw her flinch as the bullets struck her body, saw red blooms of blood appear on her chest, her breasts, her bare thighs. But she did not fall. As fast as the bullets tore through her body, she healed herself, and the shells fell harmlessly to the dock.

The drüskelle gaped at Nina. She laughed. “You’ve grown too used to captive Grisha. We’re quite tame in our cages.”

“There are other means,” said Brum, pulling a long whip like the one Lars had used from his belt.

“Your power cannot touch us, witch, and our cause is true.”

“I can’t touch you,” said Nina, raising her hands. “But I can reach them just fine.”

Behind the drüskelle, the Fjerdan soldiers Nina had put to sleep rose, their faces blank. One tore the whip from Brum’s hand, the others snatched the hoods and masks from the startled drüskelle’s faces, rendering them vulnerable.

Nina flexed her fingers, and the drüskelle dropped their rifles, hands going to their heads, screaming in pain.

“For my country,” she said. “For my people. For every child you put to the pyre. Reap what you’ve sown, Jarl Brum.”

Matthias watched the drüskelle twitch and convulse, blood trickling from their ears and eyes as the other Fjerdan soldiers looked on impassively. Their screams were a chorus. Claas, who had drunk too much with him in Avfalle. Giert, who’d trained his wolf to eat from his hand. They were monsters, he knew it, but boys as well, boys like him – taught to hate, to fear.

“Nina,” he said, hand still pressed over the smooth skin on his chest where a bullet wound should be. “Nina, please.”

“You know they would not offer you mercy, Matthias.”

“I know. I know. But let them live in shame instead.”

She hesitated.

“Nina, you taught me to be something better. They could be taught, too.”

Nina shifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were ferocious, the deep green of forests; the pupils, dark wells. The air around her seemed to shimmer with power, as if she was alight with some secret flame.

“They fear you as I once feared you,” he said. “As you once feared me. We are all someone’s monster, Nina.”

For a long moment, she studied his face. At last, she dropped her arms, and the ranks of drüskelle crumpled to the ground, whimpering. Her hand shot out once more, and Brum shrieked. He clapped his hands to his head, blood trickling between his fingers.

“He’ll live?” Matthias asked.

“Yes,” she said as she stepped onto the schooner. “He’ll just be very bald.”

Specht shouted commands, and the Ferolind drifted into the harbour, picking up speed as the sails swelled with wind. No one ran to the docks to stop them. No ships or cannon fired. There was no one to give warning, no one to signal to the gunnery above. The Elderclock chimed on unheeded as the schooner vanished into the vast black shelter of the sea, leaving only suffering in her wake.



They’d been blessed with a strong wind. Inej felt it ripple through her hair and couldn’t help but think of the storm to come.

As soon as they were on deck, Matthias had turned to Kuwei.

“How long does she have?”

Kuwei had some Kerch, but Nina had to translate in places. She did it distractedly, her glittering eyes roving over everyone and everything.

“The high will last one hour, maybe two. It depends how long it takes her body to process a dose of that size.”

“Why can’t you just purge it from your body like the bullets?” Matthias asked Nina desperately.

“It doesn’t work,” said Kuwei. “Even if she could overcome the craving for long enough to start purging it from her body, she’ll lose the ability to pull the parem from her system before it’s all gone.

You’d need another Corporalnik using parem to accomplish it.”

“What will it do to her?” asked Wylan.

“You’ve seen for yourself,” Matthias replied bitterly. “We know what’s going to happen.”

Kaz crossed his arms, “How will it start?”