Page 18 of Crooked Kingdom (Dregs 2)
“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
INEJ
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.”
