Page 19 of Crooked Kingdom (Dregs 2)
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.”
He smiled. “Most of your friends won’t survive this night.”
She thought of Jesper, Nina and Matthias, sweet Wylan who deserved so much better than this filth for a father. It wasn’t just about winning for Van Eck. It was personal. “You hate us.”
“Frankly, you are of little interest to me—an acrobat or dancer or whatever you were before you became a blight on this city. But I confess Kaz Brekker does offend me. Vile, ruthless, amoral. He feeds corruption with corruption. Such a remarkable mind might have been put to great use. He might have ruled this city, built something, created profit that would have benefited all. Instead he leeches off the work of better men.”
“Better men? Like you?”
“It pains you to hear it, but it is true. When I leave this world, the greatest shipping empire ever known will remain, an engine of wealth, a tribute to Ghezen and a sign of his favor. Who will remember a girl like you, Miss Ghafa? What will you and Kaz Brekker leave behind but corpses to be burned on the Reaper’s Barge?”
A shout came from outside the theater, and a sudden hush fell as the guards turned toward the entrance doors.
Van Eck consulted his watch. “Midnight on the dot. Brekker has a flair for the dramatic.”
She heard another shout, then a brief rattle of gunfire. Six guards behind her, shackles at her feet. Helplessness rose up to choke her. Kaz and the others were about to walk into a trap, and she had no way to warn them.
“I thought it best not to leave the perimeter completely unguarded,” said Van Eck. “We wouldn’t want to make it too easy and give away the game.”
“He’ll never tell you where Kuwei is.”
Van Eck’s smile was indulgent. “I only wonder which will prove more effective—torturing Mister Brekker or having him watch as I torture you.” He leaned in, his voice conspiratorial. “I can tell you the first thing I’m going to do is peel off those gloves and break every one of his thieving fingers.”
Inej thought of Kaz’s pale trickster hands, the shiny rope of scar tissue that ran atop his right knuckle. Van Eck could break every finger and both of Kaz’s legs and he’d never say a word, but if his men stripped away Kaz’s gloves? Inej still didn’t understand why he needed them or why he’d fainted in the prison wagon on the way into the Ice Court, but she knew Kaz couldn’t bear the touch of skin on skin. How much of this weakness could he hide? How quickly would Van Eck locate his vulnerability, exploit it? How long until Kaz came undone? She couldn’t bear it. She was glad she didn’t know where Kuwei was. She would break before Kaz did.
Boots were clattering down the hall, a thunder of footsteps. Inej surged forward and opened her mouth to cry out warning, but a guard’s hand clamped down hard over her lips as she struggled in his arms.
The door flew open. Thirty guards raised thirty rifles and thirty triggers cocked. The boy in the doorway flinched backward, his face white, his corkscrew brown curls disarrayed. He wore the Van Eck livery of red and gold.
“I—Mister Van Eck,” he panted, hands held up in defense.
“Stand down,” Van Eck commanded the guards. “What is it?”
The boy swallowed. “Sir, the lake house. They approached from the water.”
Van Eck stood, knocking over his chair. “Alys—”
“They took her an hour ago.”
Alys. Jan Van Eck’s pretty, pregnant wife. Inej felt hope spark, but she tamped it down, afraid to believe.
“They killed one of the guards and left the rest tied up in the pantry,” the boy continued breathlessly. “There was a note on the table.”
“Bring it here,” Van Eck barked. The boy strode down the aisle, and Van Eck snatched the note from his hand.
“What does it … what does it say?” asked Bajan. His voice was tremulous. Maybe Inej had been right about Alys and the music teacher.
Van Eck backhanded him. “If I find out you knew anything about this—”
“I didn’t!” Bajan cried. “I knew nothing. I followed your orders to the letter!”
Van Eck crumpled the note in his fist, but not before Inej made out the words in Kaz’s jagged, unmistakable hand: Noon tomorrow. Goedmedbridge. With her knives.
“The note was weighted down with this.” The boy reached into his pocket and drew out a tie pin—a fat ruby surrounded by golden laurel leaves. Kaz had stolen it from Van Eck back when they’d first been hired for the Ice Court job. Inej hadn’t had the chance to fence it before they left Ketterdam. Somehow Kaz must have gotten hold of it again.
“Brekker,” Van Eck snarled, his voice taut with rage.
Inej couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.
Van Eck slapped her hard. He grabbed her tunic and shook her so that her bones rattled. “Brekker thinks we’re still playing a game, does he? She is my wife. She carries my heir.”
Inej laughed even harder, all the horrors of the past week rising from her chest in giddy peals. She wasn’t sure she could have stopped if she wanted to. “And you were foolish enough to tell Kaz all of that on Vellgeluk.”
“Shall I have Franke fetch the mallet and show you just how serious I am?”
“Mister Van Eck,” Bajan pleaded.
But Inej was done being frightened of this man. Before Van Eck could take another breath, she slammed her forehead upward, shattering his nose. He screamed and released her as blood gushed over his fine mercher suit. Instantly, his guards were on her, pulling her back.
“You little wretch,” Van Eck said, holding a monogrammed handkerchief to his face. “You little whore. I’ll take a hammer to both your legs myself—”
“Go on, Van Eck, threaten me. Tell me all the little things I am. You lay a finger on me and Kaz Brekker will cut the baby from your pretty wife’s stomach and hang its body from a balcony at the Exchange.” Ugly words, speech that pricked her conscience, but Van Eck deserved the images she’d planted in his mind. Though she didn’t believe Kaz would do such a thing, she felt grateful for each nasty, vicious thing Dirtyhands had done to earn his reputation—a reputation that would haunt Van Eck every second until his wife was returned.
“Be silent,” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
“You think he won’t?” Inej taunted. She could feel the heat in her cheek from where his hand had struck her, could see the mallet still resting in the guard’s hand. Van Eck had given her fear and she was happy to return it to him. “Vile, ruthless, amoral. Isn’t that why you hired Kaz in the first place? Because he does the things that no one else dares? Go on, Van Eck. Break my legs and see what happens. Dare him.”
Had she really believed a merch could outthink Kaz Brekker? Kaz would get her free and then they’d show this man exactly what whores and canal rats could do.
“Console yourself,” she said as Van Eck clutched the ragged corner of the table for support. “Even better men can be bested.”
8
MATTHIAS
Matthias would be atoning for the mistakes he’d made in this life long into the next one, but he’d always believed that despite his crimes and failings, there was a core of decency inside him that could never be breached. And yet, he felt sure that if he had to spend another hour with Alys Van Eck, he might murder her just for the sake of a little quiet.
