Six of Crows (Six of Crows #1)(75)

“Ghezen,” swore Wylan. “What is this?”

“This is what Fjerdans do to Grisha.” Nina said. Her face was slack, her green eyes staring.

“It’s what criminals do,” said Matthias, his insides churning. “The pyres have been illegal since—”

Nina whirled on him and shoved his chest hard. “Don’t you dare,” she seethed, fury burning like a halo around her. “Tell me the last time someone was prosecuted for putting a Grisha to the flames. Do you even call it murder when you put down dogs?”

“Nina—”

“Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”

They heard it then – a moan, like a creaking wind.

“Saints,” Jesper said. “One of them is alive.”

The sound came again, thin and keening, from the black hulk of the body on the far right. It was impossible to tell if the shape was male or female. Its hair had burned away, its clothing fused to its limbs. Black flakes of skin had peeled away in places, showing raw flesh.

A sob tore from Nina’s throat. She raised her hands but she was shaking too badly to use her power to end the creature’s suffering. She turned her tear-filled eyes to the others. “I … Please, someone …”

Jesper moved first. Two shots rang out, and the body fell silent. Jesper returned his pistols to their holsters.

“Damn it, Jesper,” Kaz growled. “You just announced our presence for miles.”

“So they think we’re a hunting party.”

“You should have let Inej do it.”

“I didn’t want to do it,” Inej said quietly. “Thank you, Jesper.”

Kaz’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing more.

“Thank you,” Nina choked out. She plunged ahead over the frozen ground, following the shape of the path through the snow. She was weeping, stumbling over the terrain. Matthias followed. There were few landmarks here, and it was easy to get turned around.

“Nina, you musn’t stray from the group—”

“That’s what you’re going back to, Helvar,” she said harshly. “That’s the country you long to serve. Does it make you proud?”

“I’ve never sent a Grisha to the pyre. Grisha are given a fair trial—”

She turned on him, goggles up, tears frozen on her cheeks.

“Then why has a Grisha never been found innocent at the end of your supposedly fair trials?”

“I—”

“Because our crime is existing. Our crime is what we are.”

Matthias went quiet, and when he spoke he was caught between shame for what he was about to say and the need to speak the words, the words he’d been raised on, the words that still rang true for him.

“Nina, has it ever occurred to you that maybe … you weren’t meant to exist?”

Nina’s eyes glinted green fire. She took a step towards him, and he could feel the rage radiating off her. “Maybe you’re the ones who shouldn’t exist, Helvar. Weak and soft, with your short lives and your sad little prejudices. You worship woodsprites and ice spirits who can’t be bothered to show themselves, but you see real power, and you can’t wait to stamp it out.”

“Don’t mock what you don’t understand.”

“My mockery offends you? My people would welcome your laughter in place of this barbarity.” A look of supreme satisfaction crossed her face. “Ravka is rebuilding. So is the Second Army, and when they do, I hope they give you the fair trial you deserve. I hope they put the drüskelle in shackles and make them stand to hear their crimes enumerated so the world will have an accounting of your evils.”

“If you’re so desperate to see Ravka rise, why aren’t you there now?”

“I want you to have your pardon, Helvar. I want you to be here when the Second Army marches north and overruns every inch of this wasteland. I hope they burn your fields and salt the earth. I hope they send your friends and your family to the pyre.”

“They already did, Zenik. My mother, my father, my baby sister. Inferni soldiers, your precious, persecuted Grisha, burned our village to the ground. I have nothing left to lose.”

Nina’s laugh was bitter. “Maybe your stay in Hellgate was too short, Matthias. There’s always more to lose.”



I can smell them.  Nina batted at her hair and clothes as she lurched through the snow, trying not to retch. She couldn’t stop seeing those bodies, the angry red flesh peeking through their burned black casings like banked coals. It felt as if she was coated in their ashes, in the stink of burning flesh. She couldn’t take a full breath.

Being around Matthias made it easy to forget what he really was, what he really thought of her.

She’d tailored him again just this morning, enduring his glowers and grumbling. No, enjoying them, grateful for the excuse to be near him, ridiculously pleased every time she brought him close to a laugh. Saints, why do I care?  Why did one smile from Matthias Helvar feel like fifty from someone else? She’d felt his heart race when she’d tipped his head back to work on his eyes. She’d thought about kissing him. She’d wanted to kiss him, and she was pretty sure he’d been thinking the same thing. Or maybe he was thinking about strangling me again.