Six of Crows: Part Six

“We made it,” he said in wonder. “Djel performs miracles.”
“You don’t deserve miracles,” said Matthias with a scowl. “You desecrated the sacred ash.”

“You can explain why our illustrious Shu scientist looks like one of Wylan’s school pals along the way.”

But Nina's elation dimmed as Fjerda's answer to the problem of the Dregs rolled over the horizon.

“We have one,” Matthias said, then pointed at the horde of metal and smoke bearing down on them. “They have a lot more.”

Two more blocks and they’d be at the quay and freedom.

“We really need to get him more suitable friends.”

You have a count of ten to comply. I repeat: Release the prisoner Kuwei Yul-Bo and surrender yourselves.

The first dose was the strongest, wasn’t that what they’d said? The high and the power could never be replicated. She’d be chasing it for the rest of her life. Or maybe she’d be stronger than the drug.

Nina swept her hands in an arc, and the soldiers toppled without protest, row after row, stalks of wheat felled by an invisible scythe.

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

“Why can’t you just purge it from your body like the bullets?”

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.

“Without a ready supply of the drug, she’ll go mad. With it, her body will simply wear itself out. Do you know the word parem? It’s the name my father gave to the drug. It means ‘without pity.’

What will you do when there’s no more blood to shed or vengeance to take?

“More money, more mayhem, more scores to settle. Was there never another dream?”

“We all carry our sins, Nina. I need you to live so I can atone for mine.”

As the schooner sped south, it was as if the whole crew was sitting vigil.

Only Inej wanted to chat with anyone, and that was because she seemed to have developed a consuming interest in all things nautical.

When Kerch finally appeared on the horizon, Jesper felt a strange mixture of relief and trepidation.

He couldn’t help what he was, but did he want to cultivate his power or keep hiding it?

“Did he haggle?” 
“Not in the note. He expressed his ‘deep concern’ but didn’t mention anything about price. We did our job. We’ll see if he tries to bargain us down when we get to Vellgeluk.”

And whatever discord existed between Wylan and his father, Jesper doubted Wylan wanted to hash it out in front of the Dregs and Matthias.

Smugglers called it Vellgeluk, “good luck,” because of the paintings still visible around the base of what would have been the obelisk tower: golden circles meant to represent coins, symbols of favor from Ghezen, the god of industry and commerce.

As they drew closer, Jesper saw someone in a black mercher's suit approaching, accompanied by a tall Shu man, dark hair bound at the nape of his neck, and followed by a contingent of the stadwatch in purple coats, all carrying batons and repeating rifles.

“Thirty million kruge will soothe my hurt feelings,” said Kaz.

Even from a distance, Jesper could see the stacks of bills in palest Kerch purple, emblazoned with the three flying fish, row after row of them, bound in paper bands sealed with wax.

“Even your money is a peculiar color,” said Matthias.

In the same moment, his servants drew their weapons and a wind came out of nowhere—a howling, unnatural gale that whirled around the little island as the sea began to rise.

"The deal is the deal, Van Eck,” Kaz said over the sounds of the growing storm. “If the Merchant Council fails to honor its end of this bargain, no one from the Barrel will ever traffic with any of you again. Your word will be meaningless.”

“Neutrality is a luxury Kerch has too long enjoyed. The members of the Council think that their wealth protects them, that they can sit back and count their money while the world squabbles.”

Nations rise and fall. Markets are made and unmade. When power shifts, someone always suffers.”
“When profit shifts,” Jesper shot back.

The Tidemakers didn’t hesitate. Before anyone could draw breath to protest, two huge walls of water rose and shot toward the Ferolind. They crushed the ship between them with a resonant boom, sending debris flying.

Ghezen shows his favor to those who are deserving, to those who build cities, not the rats who eat away at their foundations. He has blessed me and my dealings. You will perish, and I will prosper. That is Ghezen’s will.

“I do hate to lose a wager. You see, Van Eck, Wylan bet me that you would have no qualms about ending his life. Call me sentimental, but I didn’t believe a father could be so callous.”

A third Squaller swooped down, snatching her up seconds before impact and dealing her a vicious blow to the skull.

I’ll let it be known that you’re harboring the most valuable hostage in the world. Every gang, government, smuggler, and spy will be after you and the Dregs.

Kaz watched the brigantine surge across the water toward Ketterdam, to safety, to a fortress built on Van Eck’s impeccable mercher reputation.

He wanted to beat them all bloody and then brawl his way through the Barrel.

They couldn’t go back to the Slat or get help from Per Haskell and the other Dregs. Van Eck would be watching, waiting to pounce. He’d turn the Barrel, Kaz’s home, his little kingdom, into hostile territory.

Pekka Rollins couldn’t count the threats he’d heard, the men he’d killed, or the men he’d seen die, but the look in Brekker’s eye still sent a chill slithering up his spine. Some wrathful thing in this boy was begging to get loose, and Rollins didn’t want to be around when it slipped its leash.