Page 36 of Six of Crows (Dregs 1)
Jesper prowled the deck, climbed the rigging, tried to get the crew to play cards with him, cleaned his guns. He missed land and good food and better lager. He missed the city. If he’d wanted wide open spaces and silence, he would have stayed on the frontier and become the farmer his father had hoped for. There was little to do on the ship but study the layout of the Ice Court, listen to Matthias grumbling, and annoy Wylan, who could always be found laboring over his attempts to reconstruct the possible mechanisms of the ringwall gates.
Kaz had been impressed with the sketches.
“You think like a lockpick,” he’d told Wylan.
“I do not.”
“I mean you can see space along three axes.”
“I’m not a criminal,” Wylan protested.
Kaz had cast him an almost pitying look. “No, you’re a flautist who fell in with bad company.”
Jesper sat down next to Wylan. “Just learn to take a compliment. Kaz doesn’t hand them out often.”
“It’s not a compliment. I’m nothing like him. I don’t belong here.”
“No arguments from me.”
“And you don’t belong here, either.”
“I beg your pardon, merchling?”
“We don’t need a sharpshooter for Kaz’s plan, so what’s your job—other than stalking around making everyone antsy?”
He shrugged. “Kaz trusts me.”
Wylan snorted and picked up his pen. “Sure about that?”
Jesper shifted uncomfortably. Of course he wasn’t sure about it. He spent far too much of his time guessing at Kaz Brekker’s thoughts. And if he had earned some small part of Kaz’s trust, did he deserve it?
He tapped his thumbs against his revolvers and said, “When the bullets start flying, you may find I’m nice to have around. Those pretty pictures aren’t going to keep you alive.”
“We need these plans. And in case you’ve forgotten, one of my flash bombs helped get us out of the Ketterdam harbor.”
Jesper blew out a breath. “Brilliant strategy.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“You blinded our guys right along with the Black Tips.”
“It was a calculated risk.”
“It was cross-your-fingers-and-hope-for-the-best. Believe me, I know the difference.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning everyone knows you can’t keep away from a fight or a wager, no matter the odds.”
Jesper squinted up at the sails. “If you aren’t born with every advantage, you learn to take your chances.”
“I wasn’t—” Wylan left off and set down his pen. “Why do you think you know everything about me?”
“I know plenty, merchling.”
“How nice for you. I feel like I’ll never know enough.”
“About what?”
“About anything,” Wylan muttered.
Against his better judgment, Jesper was intrigued. “Like what?” he pressed.
“Well, like those guns,” he said, gesturing to Jesper’s revolvers. “They have an unusual firing mechanism, don’t they? If I could take them apart—”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Wylan shrugged. “Or what about the ice moat?” he said, tapping the plan of the Ice Court. Matthias had said the moat wasn’t solid, only a slick, wafer-thin layer of ice over frigid water, thoroughly exposed and impossible to cross.
“What about it?”
“Where does all the water come from? The Court is on a hill, so where’s the aquifer or aqueduct to bring the water up?”
“Does it matter? There’s a bridge. We don’t need to cross the ice moat.”
“But aren’t you curious?”
“Saints, no. Get me a system for winning at Three Man Bramble or Makker’s Wheel. That I’m curious about.”
Wylan had turned back to his work, his disappointment obvious.
For some reason, Jesper felt a little disappointed, too.
* * *
Jesper checked on Inej every morning and every night. The idea that the ambush on the docks might simply be the end of her had shaken him. Despite Nina’s efforts, he’d been fairly sure the Wraith wasn’t long for this world.
But one morning, Jesper arrived to find Inej sitting up, clothed in breeches, quilted vest, and hooded tunic.
Nina was bent over, struggling to get the Suli girl’s feet into her strange rubber-soled slippers.
“Inej!” Jesper crowed. “You’re not dead!”
She smiled faintly. “No more than anyone.”
“If you’re spouting depressing Suli wisdom, then you must be feeling better.”
“Don’t just stand there,” Nina groused. “Help me get these things on her feet.”
“If you would just let me—” Inej began.
“Do not bend,” Nina snapped. “Do not leap. Do not move abruptly. If you don’t promise to take it easy, I’ll slow your heart and keep you in a coma until I can be sure you’ve recovered fully.”
“Nina Zenik, as soon as I figure out where you’ve put my knives, we’re going to have words.”
“The first ones had better be Thank you, oh great Nina, for dedicating every waking moment of this miserable journey to saving my sorry life.”
Jesper expected Inej to laugh and was startled when she took Nina’s face between her hands and said, “Thank you for keeping me in this world when fate seemed determined to drag me to the next. I owe you a life debt.”
Nina blushed deeply. “I was teasing, Inej.” She paused. “I think we’ve both had enough of debts.”
“This is one I’m glad to bear.”
“Okay, okay. When we’re back in Ketterdam, take me out for waffles.”
Now Inej did laugh. She dropped her hands and appeared to speculate. “Dessert for a life? I’m not sure that seems equitable.”
“I expect really good waffles.”
“I know just the place,” said Jesper. “They have this apple syrup—”
“You’re not invited,” Nina said. “Now come help me get her standing.”
“I can stand on my own,” Inej grumbled as she slid off the table and rose to her feet.
“Humor me.”
With a sigh, Inej gripped the arm that Jesper offered, and they made their way out of the cabin and up to the deck, Nina trailing behind them.
“This is foolishness,” Inej said. “I’m fine.”
“You are,” replied Jesper, “but I may keel over at any moment, so pay attention.”
Once they were on deck, Inej squeezed his arm to get him to halt. She tilted her head back, breathing deeply. It was a stone gray day, the sea a bleak slate broken up by whitecaps, the sky pleated with thick ripples of cloud. A hard wind filled the sails, carrying the little boat over the waves.
“It feels good to be this kind of cold,” she murmured.
“This kind?”
“Wind in your hair, sea spray on your skin. The cold of the living.”
“Two turns around the deck,” Nina warned. “Then back to bed.” She went to join Wylan at the stern. It didn’t escape Jesper that she’d moved to the point on the ship farthest from Matthias.
“Have they been like that the whole time?” Inej asked, looking between Nina and the Fjerdan.
Jesper nodded. “It’s like watching two bobcats circle each other.”
Inej made a little humming noise. “But what do they mean to do when they pounce?”
“Claw each other to death?”
Inej rolled her eyes. “No wonder you do so badly at the tables.”
Jesper steered her toward the rail, where they could make an approximation of a promenade without getting in anyone’s way. “I’d threaten to toss you into the drink, but Kaz is watching.”
Inej nodded. She didn’t look up to where Kaz stood beside Specht at the wheel. But Jesper did and gave him a cheery wave. Kaz’s expression didn’t change.
“Would it kill him to smile every once in a whi
le?” Jesper asked.
“Very possibly.”
Every crew member called greetings and well wishes, and Jesper could sense Inej perking up with every cheer of “The Wraith returns!” Even Matthias gave her an awkward bow and said, “I understand you’re the reason we made it out of the harbor alive.”
“I suspect there were a lot of reasons,” said Inej.
“I’m a reason,” Jesper offered helpfully.
“All the same,” said Matthias, ignoring him. “Thank you.”
They moved on, and Jesper saw a pleased grin playing over Inej’s lips.
“Surprised?” he asked.
“A bit,” she admitted. “I spend so much time with Kaz. I guess—”
“It’s a novelty to feel appreciated.”
