Page 25 of Crooked Kingdom (Dregs 2)
“Come,” Van Eck said, ushering Alys forward as he signaled to the guard holding Inej to release her.
As Inej passed Van Eck, she turned her face to him and murmured something. Van Eck’s lips pinched.
Inej shuffled forward, somehow graceful, even with her arms bound behind her and shackles around her ankles. Ten feet. Five feet. Van Eck embraced Alys as she let loose a stream of questions and chatter. Three feet. Inej’s gaze was steady. She was thinner. Her lips were chapped. But despite long days in captivity, the sun caught the dark gleam of her hair beneath her hood. Two feet. And then she was before him. They still needed to get clear of the bridge. Van Eck would not let them go this easily.
“Your knives?” he asked.
“They’re packed inside my coat.”
Van Eck had released Alys, and she was being led away by his guards. Those red-and-gold uniforms still bothered Kaz. Something was off.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, an oyster knife in his hands to see to her ropes.
“Mister Brekker,” Van Eck said. Kaz heard the excitement in Van Eck’s voice and froze. Maybe the man was better at bluffing than he’d given him credit for. “You gave me your word, Kaz Brekker!” Van Eck shouted in theatrical tones. Everyone within earshot on the Stave turned to stare. “You swore you would return my wife and son to me! Where are you keeping Wylan?”
And then Kaz saw them—a tide of purple moving toward the bridge, stadwatch flooding onto the Stave, rifles raised, cudgels drawn.
Kaz lifted a brow. The merch was finally making it interesting.
“Seal off the bridge!” one of them shouted. Kaz glanced over his shoulder and saw more stadwatch officers blocking their retreat.
Van Eck grinned. “Shall we play for real now, Mister Brekker? The might of my city against your band of thugs?”
Kaz didn’t bother to answer. He shoved Inej’s shoulder and she spun around, offering her wrists so he could slash through her bonds. He tossed the knife in the air, trusting her to catch it as he knelt to deal with her shackles, his picks already sliding between his fingers. Kaz heard the clomp of boots approaching, felt Inej bend backward over his kneeling form, and heard a soft whoosh, then the sound of a body falling. The lock gave beneath Kaz’s fingers and the shackles fell free. He rose, whirled, saw one stadwatch officer down, the shaft of the oyster knife protruding from between his eyes, and more purple uniforms rushing toward them from all directions.
He raised his cane to signal Jesper.
“West side flower boat,” he said to Inej. That was all it took—she leapt onto the railing of the bridge and vanished over the side without a second guess.
The first set of fireworks exploded overhead, pale color in the noon light. The plan was in motion.
Kaz yanked a loop of climbing line from inside his pocket and hooked it to the rail. He snagged the head of his cane on the railing beside it, hauled himself up, and vaulted over the side, his momentum carrying him out above the canal. The cord snapped taut, and he arced back toward the bridge like a pendulum, dropping onto the deck of the flower barge beside Inej.
Two stadwatch boats were already moving toward them quickly as more officers raced down the ramps to the canal. Kaz hadn’t known what Van Eck would try—he certainly hadn’t expected him to bring the stadwatch into it—but he’d been sure Van Eck would attempt to close off all their escape routes. Another series of booms sounded, and bursts of pink and green exploded in the sky above the Stave. The tourists cheered. They didn’t seem to notice that two of the explosions had come from the canal and had blown holes in the prow of one of the stadwatch boats, sending men scurrying for the sides and into the canal as the craft sank. Nicely done, Wylan. He’d bought them time—and done it without panicking the bystanders on the Stave. Kaz wanted the crowd in a very good mood.
He heaved a flat of wild geraniums into the canal over the protests of the flower seller and grabbed the clothes Matthias had stashed there earlier that morning. He swept the red cloak around Inej’s shoulders in a rain of petals and blossoms as she continued to strap on her knives. She looked almost as startled as the flower seller.
“What?” he asked as he tossed her a Mister Crimson mask that matched his own.
“Those were my mother’s favorite flower.”
“Good to know Van Eck didn’t cure you of sentiment.”
“Nice to be back, Kaz.”
“Good to have you back, Wraith.”
“Ready?”
“Wait,” he said, listening. The fireworks had ceased, and a moment later he heard the sound he’d been waiting for, the musical tinkle of coins hitting the pavement, followed by shrieks of delight from the crowd.
“Now,” he said.
They grabbed the cord and he gave a sharp tug. With a high-pitched whir, the cord retracted, yanking them upward in a burst of speed. They were back on the bridge in moments, but the scene awaiting them was decidedly different from the one they’d escaped less than two minutes before.
West Stave was in chaos. Mister Crimsons were everywhere, fifty, sixty, seventy of them in red masks and cloaks, tossing coins into the air as tourists and locals alike pushed and shoved, laughing and shouting, crawling on hands and knees, completely oblivious to the stadwatch officers trying to get past them.
“Mother, Father, pay the rent!” shouted a crowd of girls from the doorway of the Blue Iris.
“I can’t, my dear, the money’s spent!” the Mister Crimsons chorused back, and tossed another cloud of coins into the air, sending the crowd into freshly delirious shrieks of joy.
“Clear the way!” shouted the captain of the guard.
One of the officers tried to unmask a Mister Crimson standing by a lamppost, and the crowd began booing. Kaz and Inej plunged into the swirl of red capes and people scrambling for coins. To his left, he heard Inej laugh behind her mask. He’d never heard her laugh like that, giddy and wild.
Suddenly a deep, thunderous boom shook the Stave. People toppled, grabbed at one another, at walls, at whatever was closest. Kaz almost lost his footing, righted himself with his cane.
When he looked up, it was like trying to peer through a thick veil. Smoke hung heavy in the air. Kaz’s ears were ringing. As if from a great distance, he heard frightened screams, cries of terror. A woman ra
n past him, face and hair coated in dust and plaster like a pantomime ghost, hands clapped over her ears. There was blood trickling from beneath her palms. A gaping hole had been blown in the facade of the House of the White Rose.
He saw Inej lift her mask, and he pulled it back down over her face. He shook his head. Something was wrong. He’d planned a friendly riot, not a mass disaster, and Wylan wasn’t the type to miscalculate so gravely. Someone else had come to make trouble on West Stave, someone who didn’t mind doing more than a little damage.
All Kaz knew was he’d invested a lot of time and money in getting his Wraith back. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her again.
He touched Inej’s shoulder briefly. That was all the signal they needed. He raced for the nearest alleyway. He didn’t have to look to know she was beside him—silent, sure-footed. She could have outpaced him in an instant, but they ran in tandem, matching each other step for step.
10
JESPER
Now this was Jesper’s kind of chaos.
Jesper had two jobs, one before the exchange of hostages, and one after. While Inej was in Van Eck’s possession, Nina was the first line of defense if the guards tried to remove her from the bridge or anyone threatened her. Jesper was to keep Van Eck in his rifle sights—no kill shots, but if the guy started brandishing a gun, Jesper was allowed to leave him without the use of an arm. Or two.
“Van Eck’s going to pull something,” Kaz had said back on Black Veil, “and it’s going to be messy, because he has less than twelve hours to plan it.”
“Good,” said Jesper.
“Bad,” said Kaz. “The more complicated a plan is, the more people he has to involve, the more people talk, the more ways it can go wrong.”
