Crooked Kingdom (13 page)

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Now night had fallen and they were on their way to do just that, a waxing moon glaring down at them like a white and watchful eye. Nina shook out her sleeves. The cold snap had broken, and they were in the middle of a proper late spring. Or what passed for that in Kerch—the moist, claustrophobic warmth of an animal's mouth relieved only by brief, unpredictable storms. Matthias and Jesper had left for the docks early to make sure the
gondel
was in place. Then they'd all headed to the launch point, leaving Kuwei on Black Veil with Rotty and Specht.

The boat cut silently through the water. Ahead, Nina could see the gleam of lights guiding them onward.

Jesper's revolvers were back at his hips, and both he and Matthias had rifles slung across their shoulders. Kaz had a pistol in his coat and that demonic cane, and Nina saw Wylan rest a hand on his satchel. It was packed with explosives, flash bombs, and who knew what else.

“We better be right about all this,” Wylan said on a sigh. “My father is going to be ready.”

“I'm counting on it,” Kaz replied.

Nina let her fingers brush against the grip of the pistol tucked into the pocket of her light spring coat. She had never needed a gun before, never wanted to carry one.
Because I was the weapon.
But she didn't trust herself now. Her control over her power felt flimsy, like she kept reaching for something that was just a bit farther away than she'd thought. She needed to know it would be there tonight. She couldn't make a mistake, not when Inej's life depended on it. Nina knew that if she'd been on Vellgeluk, the battle would have gone differently. Inej never would have been taken if Nina had been strong enough to face Van Eck's henchmen.

And if she'd had
parem
? No one could have stood against her.

Nina gave her head a firm shake.
If you'd had
parem
, you'd be completely addicted and well on your way to the Reaper's Barge.

No one spoke as they reached shore and disembarked as quickly and quietly as possible. Kaz gestured for them to get to their positions. He would approach from the north, Matthias and Wylan from the east. Nina and Jesper would be responsible for the guards on the western edge of the perimeter.

Nina flexed her fingers. Silence four guards. That should be easy. A few weeks ago it would have been. Slow their pulses. Send them quietly into unconsciousness without ever letting an alarm sound. But now she wondered if it was the damp or her own nervous perspiration that made her clothes cling so uncomfortably to her skin.

Too soon, she saw the shapes of the first two guards at their post. They leaned against the low stone wall, rifles propped beside them, their conversation rising and falling in a lazy hum. Easy.

“Take 'em shut-eye,” said Jesper.

Nina focused on the guards, letting her own body become attuned to theirs, seeking out their heartbeats, the rushing rhythm of their blood. It was like stumbling blind through the dark. There was simply nothing there. Dimly, she was aware of the suggestion of their frames, a trace of knowing, but that was all. She saw them with her eyes, heard them with her ears, but the rest was silence. That other sense inside her, the gift that had been there for as long as she could remember, the heart of the power that had been her constant companion since she was a child, had simply ceased to beat. All she could think of was
parem
, the exhilaration, the ease, as if the universe lay at her fingertips.

“What are you waiting for?” said Jesper.

Alerted by some sound or simply their presence, one of the guards glanced in their direction, peering into the shadows. He lifted his rifle and signaled to his companion to follow.

“They're headed this way.” Jesper's hands went to his guns.

Oh, Saints.
If Jesper had to shoot, the other guards would be alerted. The alarm would be raised, and this whole endeavor might go straight to hell.

Nina focused with all her will. The hunger for
parem
seized her, quaking through her body, digging into her skull with determined talons. She ignored it. One of the guards faltered, went to his knees.

“Gillis!” said the other guard. “What is it?” But he was not foolish enough to lower his weapon. “Halt!” he shouted in their direction, still trying to support his friend. “Identify yourselves.”

“
Nina
,” Jesper whispered furiously. “Do something.”

Nina clenched her fist, trying to squeeze the guard's larynx shut to prevent him from calling for help.

“Identify yourselves!”

Jesper drew his gun.
No, no, no.
She was not going to be the reason this went wrong.
Parem
was supposed to kill her or leave her alone, not stick her in this miserable, powerless purgatory. Rage swept through Nina, clean, perfect, focusing anger. Her mind reached out and suddenly, she had hold of something, not a body, but something. She caught a movement from the corner of her eye, a dim shape emerging from the shadows—a cloud of dust. It shot toward the standing guard. He swatted at it as if trying to drive away a swarm of mosquitoes, but it whirred faster, faster, a nearly invisible blur. The guard opened his mouth to scream and the cloud vanished. He let out a grunt and toppled backward.

His compatriot was still balancing woozily on his knees. Nina and Jesper strode forward, and Jesper gave the kneeling guard a whack to the back of the head with the butt of his revolver. The man slumped to the ground, unconscious. Cautiously, they examined the other guard. He lay with eyes open, staring up at the starry sky. His mouth and nostrils were choked with fine white dust.

“Did you do that?” said Jesper.

Had she? Nina felt like she could taste the dust in her own mouth. This shouldn't be possible. A Corporalnik could manipulate the human body, not inorganic matter. This was the work of a Fabrikator—a powerful one. “It wasn't you?”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but this was all you, gorgeous.”

“I didn't mean to kill him.” What had she meant to do? Just keep him quiet. Dust dribbled from the corner of his parted lips in a fine line.

“There are two more guards,” said Jesper. “And we're already running late.”

“How about we just knock them over the head?”

“Sophisticated. I like it.”

Nina felt a strange crawling sensation all over her body, but the need for
parem
wasn't screaming through her any longer.
I didn't mean to kill him.
It didn't matter. It couldn't right now. The guards were down and the plan was in motion.

“Come on,” she said. “Let's go get our girl.”

 

7

I
NEJ

Inej spent a sleepless night in the dark. When her stomach started to growl, she suspected it was morning, but no one arrived to remove her blindfold or offer her a tray. It seemed Van Eck didn't feel the need to coddle her anymore. He'd seen the fear in her clearly enough. That would be his leverage now, not Bajan's Suli eyes and attempts at kindness.

When her shivering had passed, she had struggled over to the vent, only to find that it had been bolted firmly shut. It had to have been done while she was in the theater. She wasn't surprised. She suspected Van Eck had left it unsecured just to give her hope and then snatch it away.

Eventually, her mind had begun to clear, and as she'd lain in the silence, she'd made a plan. She would talk. There were plenty of safe houses and hideouts that the Dregs had ceased to use because they'd been compromised or simply stopped being convenient. She'd start there. Then there were the supposedly secure places that belonged to some of the other Barrel gangs. She knew of a converted shipping container in Third Harbor that the Liddies occasionally used. The Razorgulls liked to hole up in a dingy hotel only a few streets over from the Slat. They called it Jam Tart House because of its faded raspberry color and the white eaves that looked like they were decorated in icing. It should take Van Eck the better part of a night to search all the rooms. She would stall. She'd lead Van Eck and his men all over Ketterdam looking for Kaz. She'd never been much of an actress, but she'd been forced to tell her share of lies at the Menagerie, and surely she'd spent enough time around Nina to learn a thing or two.

When Bajan finally appeared and removed her blindfold, he had six armed guards with him. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she suspected the entire day had gone. Bajan's face looked sallow and he had trouble meeting her eyes. She hoped he'd lain awake all night, the weight of her words heavy on his chest. He cut her ankles free but replaced the ropes with shackles. They clanked heavily as the guards led her down the hall.

This time they took her through the back door of the theater, past flats of scenery and discarded props covered in dust, to the stage. The moth-eaten green curtains had been lowered so that the cavernous seating area and balconies were no longer visible. Closed off from the rest of the theater, warmed by the heat radiating from the stage lights, the set had a curious feeling of intimacy. It seemed less like a stage than a real surgeon's operating room. Inej's gaze touched the wrecked corner of the table where she'd lain the previous night and then quickly darted away.

Van Eck was waiting with the blade-nosed guard. Inej made a silent promise. Even if her plan failed, even if he smashed her legs to pulp, even if she never walked again, she'd find a way to pay him back in kind. She didn't know how, but she'd manage it. She'd survived too much to let Jan Van Eck destroy her.

“Are you afraid, Miss Ghafa?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Such honesty. And are you prepared to tell me what you know?”

Inej took a deep breath and hung her head in what she hoped was a convincing display of reluctance. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Go on.”

“How do I know you won't take the information and hurt me anyway?” she asked carefully.

“If the information is good, you have nothing to fear from me, Miss Ghafa. I am not a brute. I've employed the methods you are most accustomed to—threats, violence. The Barrel has trained you to expect such treatment.” He sounded like Tante Heleen.
Why do you make me do these things? You bring these punishments on yourself, girl.

“I have your word, then?” she asked. It was absurd. Van Eck had made clear exactly what his word was worth when he'd broken their arrangement on Vellgeluk and tried to have them all killed.

But he nodded solemnly. “You do,” he said. “The deal is the deal.”

“And Kaz must never know—”

“Of course, of course,” he said with some impatience.

Inej cleared her throat. “The Blue Paradise is a club not far from the Slat. Kaz has used the rooms above it to stow stolen merchandise before.” It was true. And the rooms should still be empty. Kaz had stopped using the place after he'd discovered one of the barkeeps was in debt to the Dime Lions. He didn't want anyone reporting on his comings and goings.

“Very good. What else?”

Inej worried her lower lip. “An apartment on Kolstraat. I don't remember the number. It has a view of the back entrances to some of the dens on East Stave. We've used it for stakeouts before.”

“Is that so? Please go on.”

“There's a shipping container—”

“Do you know something, Miss Ghafa?” Van Eck stepped closer to her. There was no anger on his face. He looked almost gleeful. “I don't think any of these places are real leads.”

“I wouldn't—”

“I think you intend to send me off chasing my tail while you wait for rescue or plan some other misbegotten escape attempt. But Miss Ghafa, you needn't wait. Mister Brekker is on his way to rescue you this very minute.” He gestured to one of the guards. “Raise the curtain.”

Inej heard the creak of ropes and, slowly, the ragged curtains rose. The theater was packed with guards lining the aisles, thirty at least, maybe more, all heavily armed with rifles and cudgels, an overwhelming display of force.
No
, she thought, as Van Eck's words sank in.

“That's right, Miss Ghafa,” said Van Eck. “Your hero is coming. Mister Brekker likes to believe that he's the smartest person in Ketterdam, so I thought I'd indulge him and let him outsmart himself. I realized that instead of hiding you, I should simply let you be found.”

Inej frowned. It couldn't be.
It couldn't be.
Had this merch actually outwitted Kaz? Had he used her to do it?

“I've been sending Bajan back and forth from Eil Komedie every day. I thought a Suli boy would be most conspicuous and any traffic to a supposedly deserted island was bound to be remarked upon. Until tonight, I wasn't sure Brekker would bite; I was growing most anxious. But he did. Earlier this evening, two of his team were spotted on the docks preparing a
gondel
to launch—that big Fjerdan and the Zemeni boy. I did not have them intercepted. Much like you, they are mere pawns. Kuwei is the prize, and your Mister Brekker is finally going to give me what I am owed.”

“If you'd treated fairly with us, you'd have Kuwei already,” she said. “We risked our lives to get him out of the Ice Court. We risked everything. You should have honored your word.”

“A patriot would have offered to free Kuwei without the promise of reward.”

“A patriot? Your scheme for
jurda parem
will bring chaos to Kerch.”

“Markets are resilient. Kerch will endure. It may even be strengthened by the changes to come. But you and your ilk may not fare so well. How do you think the parasites of the Barrel will manage when we are at war? When honest men have no coin to squander and put their minds to toil instead of vice?”

Inej felt her lip curl. “Canal rats have a way of surviving, no matter how hard you try to stamp us out.”