فصل 03

3

MATTHIAS

Matthias kept to the shadows, watching this strange play unfold.

Cornelis Smeet tipped, losing his footing, hat sliding from his nearly bald head. The boy who had run into him stepped forward, offering assistance.

The boy was Kaz, but he was not Kaz. His dark hair was mussed, his manner flustered. He kept his eyes averted, his chin tucked into his collar as if hopelessly embarrassed—a green youth, respectful of his elders. Wylan hovered behind him, shrunken so deeply into his coat Matthias thought he might actually disappear.

“Watch where you’re going!” Smeet huffed indignantly, resettling the hat on his head.

“Terribly sorry, sir,” Kaz said, brushing the shoulders of Smeet’s jacket. “Curse my clumsiness!” He bent to the cobblestones. “Oh dear, I think you dropped your wallet.”

“So I did!” Smeet said in surprise. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Then, as Matthias watched in disbelief, Smeet opened his billfold and drew out a crisp five-kruge bill. “There you are, young man. Pays to be honest.”

Kaz kept his head down but somehow managed to convey humble appreciation as he murmured, “Too kind, sir. Too kind. May Ghezen be as generous.”

The portly lawyer went on his way, hat askew, humming a little tune, oblivious to the fact that he’d just run directly into the card dealer who had sat across from him for two hours in Club Cumulus. Smeet arrived at his door and pulled a chain from his shirt, then frantically patted his waistcoat, searching for his whistle.

“You didn’t put it on the chain?” asked Matthias as Kaz and Wylan joined him in the dark doorway. He knew such tricks were well within Kaz’s abilities.

“Didn’t bother.”

Smeet rooted around in his shirt, then fished out the whistle and unlocked the door, humming once more. Matthias could not fathom it. He’d kept his gaze trained on Kaz’s gloved hands as he’d fussed over Smeet, but even knowing that Kaz intended to return the whistle, Matthias hadn’t been able to detect the moment of deception. He was tempted to drag Smeet back and make Kaz perform the trick again.

Kaz neatened his hair with his fingers and handed the five kruge to Wylan. “Don’t spend it all in one place. Let’s move.”

Matthias ushered them along to the narrow side canal where he’d moored the rowboat. He tossed Kaz his cane, and they clambered down. Kaz had been wise not to allow himself the use of his walking stick this night. If someone noticed a boy with a crow’s head cane lurking around the offices of Cornelis Smeet at an unusual hour, if an offhand mention of that fact somehow reached Van Eck’s ears, all their work would be for nothing. To get Inej back, they would need surprise on their side, and the demjin was not the type to leave anything to chance.

“Well?” Matthias asked as the boat slid along the dark waters of the canal.

“Hold your tongue, Helvar. Words like to ride the water. Put yourself to use and help work the oars.”

Matthias fought the urge to snap his oars in half. Why was Kaz incapable of keeping a civil tongue? He gave orders as if he simply expected everyone to follow his commands, and he’d been twice as insufferable since Van Eck had taken Inej. But Matthias wanted to get back to Black Veil and Nina as fast as possible, so he did as he was bid, feeling his shoulders flex as the boat moved against the current.

He put his mind to keeping track of the landmarks they passed, trying to remember street and bridge names. Though Matthias studied a map of the city every night, he had found Ketterdam’s knots of alleys and canals nearly impossible to untangle. He’d always prided himself on a good sense of direction, but this city had defeated it, and he frequently found himself cursing whatever mad hand had thought it wise to raise a city from a swamp and then arrange it without order or logic.

Once they passed beneath Havenbridge, he was relieved to find his surroundings becoming familiar again. Kaz tipped his oars, steering them into the murky waters of Beggars’ Bend, where the canal widened, and guided them into the shallows of Black Veil Island. They tucked the boat behind the drooping limbs of a white willow and then picked their way up through the graves that dotted the steep bank.

Black Veil was an eerie place, a miniature city of white marble mausoleums, many carved into the shape of ships, their stone figureheads weeping as they cut across an invisible sea. Some bore the stamp of Ghezen’s Coins of Favor, others the three flying fishes of Kerch that Nina said indicated a member of the family had served in the government. A few were watched over by Ravkan Saints in flowing marble robes. There was no sign of Djel or his ash tree. Fjerdans would not want to be interred above the earth, where they could not take root.

Almost all the mausoleums had fallen into disrepair, and many were little more than piles of slumped rock overgrown with vines and clusters of spring flowers. Matthias had been horrified at the idea of using a cemetery as a safe house, no matter how long it had been abandoned. But of course, nothing was sacred to Kaz Brekker.

“Why don’t they use this place anymore?” Matthias had asked when they’d taken over a vast tomb at the island’s center as their hideout.

“Plague,” Kaz replied. “The first bad outbreak was more than a hundred years ago, and the Merchant Council prohibited burial within city limits. Now bodies have to be cremated.”

“Not if you’re rich,” Jesper added. “Then they take you to a cemetery in the country, where your corpse can enjoy the fresh air.”

Matthias hated Black Veil, but he could acknowledge it had served them well. The rumors of hauntings kept squatters at bay, and the mist that surrounded the twisting willows and stone masts of the graves obscured the occasional lantern light.

Of course, none of that would matter if people heard Nina and Jesper arguing at the top of their lungs. They must have returned to the island and left their gondel on the north side. Nina’s irritated voice floated over the graves, and Matthias felt a surge of relief, his steps quickening, eager for the sight of her.

“I don’t think you’re showing proper appreciation for what I just went through,” Jesper was saying as he stomped through the cemetery.

“You spent a night at the tables losing someone else’s money,” Nina shot back. “Isn’t that essentially a holiday for you?”

Kaz knocked his cane hard against a gravestone and they both went quiet, moving swiftly into fighting stances.

Nina relaxed as soon as she caught sight of the three of them in the shadows. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s us.” Kaz used his cane to herd them both toward the center of the island. “And you would have heard us if you hadn’t been busy shouting at each other. Stop gawking like you’ve never seen a girl in a dress before, Matthias.”

“I wasn’t gawking,” Matthias said with as much dignity as he could muster. But for Djel’s sake, what was he supposed to look at when Nina had irises tucked between … everything.

“Be quiet, Brekker,” Nina said. “I like it when he gawks.”

“How did the mission go?” Matthias asked, trying to keep his eyes on her face. It was easy when he realized how tired she looked beneath the cosmetics she’d applied. She even took the arm he offered, leaning on him slightly as they made their way over the uneven terrain. The night had taken a toll. She shouldn’t be traipsing around the Barrel in scraps of silk; she should be resting. But the days until Van Eck’s deadline were dwindling, and Matthias knew Nina would allow herself no comfort until Inej was safe.

“It’s not a mission; it’s a job,” Nina corrected. “And it went splendidly.”

“Yeah,” said Jesper. “Splendidly. Except that my revolvers are currently collecting dust in the Club Cumulus safe. Smeet was afraid to walk home with them, the hopeless podge. Just thinking of my babies in his sweaty hands—”

“No one told you to wager them,” said Kaz.

“You dealt me into a corner. How the hell else was I supposed to get Smeet to stay at the tables?”

Kuwei poked his head out of the huge stone tomb as they approached.

“What did I tell you?” Kaz growled, pointing his cane at him.

“My Kerch isn’t very good,” protested Kuwei.

“Don’t run game on me, kid. It’s good enough. Stay in the tomb.”

Kuwei hung his head. “Stay in the tomb,” he repeated glumly.

They followed the Shu boy inside. Matthias loathed this place. Why build such monuments to death? The tomb was constructed to look like an ancient cargo ship, its interior carved into a vast stone hull. It even had stained-glass portholes that cast rainbows on the crypt floor in the late afternoon. According to Nina, the carvings of palm trees and snakes on the walls indicated that the family had been spice traders. But they must have fallen on hard times or simply taken their dead elsewhere, because only one of the vaults had a resident, and the narrow passages on either side of the main hull were equally empty.

Nina pulled the pins from her hair, shucked off the blonde wig, and tossed it on the table they’d set in the middle of the tomb. She slumped into a chair, rubbing her fingers along her scalp. “So much better,” she said with a happy sigh. But Matthias could not ignore the almost greenish cast to her skin.

She was worse tonight. Either she’d run into trouble with Smeet or she’d simply overexerted herself. And yet, watching her, Matthias felt something in him ease. At least now she looked like Nina again, her brown hair in damp tangles, her eyes half-shut. Was it normal to be fascinated by the way someone slouched?

“Guess what we saw on our way out of the Lid?” she asked.

Jesper started digging through their food stores. “Two Shu warships sitting in the harbor.”

She threw a hairpin at him. “I was going to make them guess.”

“Shu?” asked Kuwei, returning to where he’d spread his notebooks over the table.

Nina nodded. “Cannons out, red flags flying.”

“I talked to Specht earlier,” said Kaz. “The embassies are full up with diplomats and soldiers. Zemeni, Kaelish, Ravkan.”

“You think they know about Kuwei?” Jesper asked.

“I think they know about parem,” said Kaz. “Rumors, at least. And there were plenty of interested parties at the Ice Court to pick up gossip about Kuwei’s … liberation.” He turned his gaze on Matthias. “The Fjerdans are here too. They’ve got a whole contingent of drüskelle with them.”

Kuwei sighed mournfully, and Jesper plunked down next to him, giving him a nudge with his shoulder. “Isn’t it nice to be wanted?”

Matthias said nothing. He did not like to think about the fact that his old friends, his old commander, might be only a few miles from them. He wasn’t sorry for the things he’d done at the Ice Court, but that didn’t mean he had made peace with them either.

Wylan reached for one of the crackers Jesper had dumped on the table. It was still disconcerting to see him and Kuwei in the same room. Nina’s tailoring had been so successful that Matthias often had trouble telling them apart until they spoke. He wished one of them would do him the courtesy of wearing a hat.

“This is good for us,” said Kaz. “The Shu and the Fjerdans don’t know where to start looking for Kuwei, and all those diplos making trouble at the Stadhall are going to create some nice noise to distract Van Eck.”

“What happened at Smeet’s office?” Nina asked. “Did you find out where Van Eck is keeping her?”

“I have a pretty good idea. We strike tomorrow at midnight.”

“Is that enough time to prepare?” asked Wylan.

“It’s all the time we have. We’re not going to wait for an engraved invitation. What’s your progress on the weevil?”

Jesper’s brows shot up. “The weevil?”

Wylan removed a small vial from his coat and set it down on the table.

Matthias bent to peer at it. It looked like a bunch of pebbles. “That’s a weevil?” He thought of weevils as pests that got into grain stores.

“Not a real weevil,” said Wylan. “It’s a chemical weevil. It doesn’t really have a name yet.”

“You’ve got to give it a name,” said Jesper. “How else will you call it to dinner?”

“Forget what it’s called,” Kaz said. “What matters is that this little vial is going to eat Van Eck’s bank accounts and his reputation.”

Wylan cleared his throat. “Possibly. The chemistry is complicated. I was hoping Kuwei would help.”

Nina said something to Kuwei in Shu. He shrugged and looked away, lip jutting out slightly. Whether it was the recent death of his father or the fact that he’d found himself stuck in a cemetery with a band of thieves, the boy had become increasingly sullen.

“Well?” Jesper prodded.

“I have other interests,” Kuwei replied.

Kaz’s black gaze pinned Kuwei like the tip of a dagger. “I suggest rethinking your priorities.”

Jesper gave Kuwei another nudge. “That’s Kaz’s way of saying, ‘Help Wylan or I’ll seal you up in one of these tombs and see how that suits your interests.’”

Matthias was no longer sure what the Shu boy understood or didn’t, but apparently he’d received the message. Kuwei swallowed and nodded grudgingly.

“The power of negotiation,” Jesper said, and shoved a cracker in his mouth.

“Wylan—and the obliging Kuwei—will get the weevil working,” Kaz continued. “Once we have Inej, we can move on Van Eck’s silos.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “Good thing this is all about getting our money and not about saving Inej. Definitely not about that.”

“If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by its other names.”

“Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?”

“Freedom, security, retribution.”

“You can’t put a price on those things.”

“No? I bet Jesper can. It’s the price of the lien on his father’s farm.” The sharpshooter looked at the toes of his boots. “What about you, Wylan? Can you put a price on the chance to walk away from Ketterdam and live your own life? And Nina, I suspect you and your Fjerdan may want something more to subsist on than patriotism and longing glances. Inej might have a number in mind too. It’s the price of a future, and it’s Van Eck’s turn to pay.”

Matthias was not fooled. Kaz always spoke logic, but that didn’t mean he always told truth. “The Wraith’s life is worth more than that,” said Matthias. “To all of us.”

“We get Inej. We get our money. It’s as simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” said Nina. “Did you know I’m next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg.”

“There is no princess of Engelsberg,” said Matthias. “It’s a fishing town.”

Nina shrugged. “If we’re going to lie to ourselves, we might as well be grand about it.”

Kaz ignored her, spreading a map of the city over the table, and Matthias heard Wylan murmur to Jesper, “Why won’t he just say he wants her back?”

“You’ve met Kaz, right?”

“But she’s one of us.”

Jesper’s brows rose again. “One of us? Does that mean she knows the secret handshake? Does that mean you’re ready to get a tattoo?” He ran a finger up Wylan’s forearm, and Wylan flushed a vibrant pink. Matthias couldn’t help but sympathize with the boy. He knew what it was to be out of your depth, and he sometimes suspected they could forgo all of Kaz’s planning and simply let Jesper and Nina flirt the entirety of Ketterdam into submission.

Wylan pulled his sleeve down self-consciously. “Inej is part of the crew.”

“Just don’t push it.”

“Why not?”

“Because the practical thing would be for Kaz to auction Kuwei to the highest bidder and forget about Inej entirely.”

“He wouldn’t—” Wylan broke off abruptly, doubt creeping over his features.

None of them really knew what Kaz would or wouldn’t do. Sometimes Matthias wondered if even Kaz was sure.

“Okay, Kaz,” said Nina, slipping off her shoes and wiggling her toes. “Since this is about the almighty plan, how about you stop meditating over that map and tell us just what we’re in for.”

“I want you focused on what we have to do tomorrow night. After that, you’ll get all the information you want.”

“Really?” asked Nina, tugging at her corset. Pollen from one of the irises had scattered over her bare shoulder. Matthias had the overwhelming urge to brush it away with his lips. It’s probably poisonous, he told himself sternly. Maybe he should take a walk.

“Van Eck promised us thirty million kruge,” said Kaz. “That’s exactly what we’re going to take. With another one million for interest, expenses, and just because we can.”

Wylan broke a cracker in two. “My father doesn’t have thirty million kruge lying around. Even if you took all his assets together.”

“You should leave, then,” said Jesper. “We only associate with the disgraced heirs of the very finest fortunes.”

Kaz stretched his bad leg out, flexing his foot slightly. “If Van Eck had that kind of money on hand, we would have just robbed him instead of breaking into the Ice Court in the first place. He could only offer a reward that big because he claimed the Merchant Council was putting city funds toward it.”

“What about that chest full of bills he brought to Vellgeluk?” asked Jesper.

“Bunk,” said Kaz, disgust in his voice. “Probably quality counterfeits.”

“So then how do we get the money? Rob the city? Rob the Council?” Jesper sat up straighter, hands drumming eagerly on the table. “Hit twelve vaults in one night?”

Wylan shifted in his chair, and Matthias saw the disquiet in his expression. At least someone else in this band of miscreants was reluctant to keep committing crimes.

“No,” said Kaz. “We’re going to make like merchers and let the market do the work for us.” He leaned back, gloved hands resting on his crow’s head cane. “We’re going to take Van Eck’s money, and then we’re going to take his reputation. We’re going to make sure he can never do business in Ketterdam or anywhere in Kerch ever again.”

“And what happens to Kuwei?” asked Nina.

“Once the job is done, Kuwei—and any other convicts, Grisha, and disinherited youths who may or may not have prices on their heads—can lie low in the Southern Colonies.”

Jesper frowned. “Where will you be?”

“Right here. I’ve still got plenty of business that requires my attention.”

Though Kaz’s tone was easy, Matthias heard the dark anticipation in his words. He had often wondered how people survived this city, but it was possible Ketterdam would not survive Kaz Brekker.

“Wait a minute,” said Nina. “I thought Kuwei was going to Ravka.”

“Why would you think that?”

“When you sold your Crow Club shares to Pekka Rollins, you asked him to send a message to the Ravkan capital. We all heard it.”

“I thought it was a request for aid,” said Matthias, “not an invitation to bargain.” They had never discussed giving Kuwei to Ravka.

Kaz considered them with some amusement. “It was neither. Let’s just hope Rollins is as gullible as you two.”

“It was a decoy,” Nina moaned. “You were just keeping Rollins busy.”

“I wanted Pekka Rollins preoccupied. Hopefully, he has his people trying to chase down our Ravkan contacts. They should prove difficult to find, given that they don’t exist.”

Kuwei cleared his throat. “I would prefer to go to Ravka.”

“I’d prefer a pair of sable-lined swimming trunks,” said Jesper. “But we can’t always get what we want.”

A furrow appeared between Kuwei’s brows. The limits to his understanding of Kerch had apparently been reached and surpassed.

“I would prefer to go to Ravka,” he repeated more firmly. Kaz’s flat black gaze fastened on Kuwei and held. Kuwei squirmed nervously. “Why is he looking at me this way?”

“Kaz is wondering if he should keep you alive,” said Jesper. “Terrible for the nerves. I recommend deep breathing. Maybe a tonic.”

“Jesper, stop,” said Wylan.

“Both of you need to relax.” Jesper patted Kuwei’s hand. “We’re not going to let him put you in the ground.”

Kaz raised a brow. “Let’s not make any promises just yet.”

“Come on, Kaz. We didn’t go to all that trouble to save Kuwei just to make him worm food.”

“Why do you want to go to Ravka?” Nina asked, unable to hide her eagerness.

“We never agreed to that,” Matthias said. He did not want to argue about this, especially not with Nina. They were supposed to set Kuwei loose to live an anonymous life in Novyi Zem, not hand him over to Fjerda’s greatest enemy.

Nina shrugged. “Maybe we need to rethink our options.”

Kuwei spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “It’s safer there. For Grisha. For me. I don’t want to hide. I want to train.” Kuwei touched the notebooks in front of him. “My father’s work can help find—” He hesitated, exchanged a few words with Nina. “An antidote for parem.”

Nina clasped her hands together, beaming.

Jesper tipped back farther in his chair. “I think Nina may be about to burst into song.”

An antidote. Was that what Kuwei had been scribbling about in his notebooks? The prospect of something that might neutralize the powers of parem was appealing, and yet Matthias couldn’t help but be wary. “To put this knowledge in the hands of one nation—” he began.

But Kuwei interrupted. “My father brought this drug into the world. Even without me, what I know, it will be made again.”

“You’re saying someone else is going to solve the riddle of parem?” Matthias asked. Was there truly no hope this abomination could be contained?

“Sometimes scientific discoveries are like that,” said Wylan. “Once people know something is possible, the pace of new findings increases. After that, it’s like trying to get a swarm of hornets back into their nest.”

“Do you really think an antidote is possible?” Nina asked.

“I don’t know,” said Kuwei. “My father was a Fabrikator. I am just an Inferni.”

“You’re our chemist, Wylan,” said Nina hopefully. “What do you think?”

Wylan shrugged. “Maybe. Not all poisons have an antidote.”

Jesper snorted. “That’s why we call him Wylan Van Sunshine.”

“In Ravka, there are more talented Fabrikators,” Kuwei said. “They could help.”

Nina nodded emphatically. “It’s true. Genya Safin knows poisons like no one else, and David Kostyk developed all kinds of new weapons for King Nikolai.” She glanced at Matthias. “And other things too! Nice things. Very peaceable.”

Matthias shook his head. “This isn’t a decision to be made lightly.”

Kuwei’s jaw set. “I would prefer to go to Ravka.”

“See?” said Nina.

“No, I do not,” said Matthias. “We can’t just hand such a prize over to Ravka.”

“He’s a person, not a prize, and he wants to go.”

“Do we all get to do what we want now?” asked Jesper. “Because I have a list.”

There was a long, tense pause, then Kaz ran a gloved thumb over the crease of his trousers and said, “Nina, love, translate for me? I want to make sure Kuwei and I understand each other.”

“Kaz—” she said warningly.

Kaz shifted forward and rested his hands on his knees, a kind older brother offering some friendly advice. “I think it’s important that you understand the changes in your circumstances. Van Eck knows the first place you’d go for sanctuary would be Ravka, so any ship bound for its shores is going to be searched top to bottom. The only Tailors powerful enough to make you look like someone else are in Ravka, unless Nina wants to take another dose of parem.”

Matthias growled.

“Which is unlikely,” Kaz conceded. “Now, I assume you don’t want me to cart you back to Fjerda or the Shu Han?”

It was clear Nina had finished the translation when Kuwei yelped, “No!”

“Then your choices are Novyi Zem and the Southern Colonies, but the Kerch presence in the colonies is far lower. Also, the weather is better, if you’re partial to that kind of thing. You are a stolen painting, Kuwei. Too recognizable to sell on the open market, too valuable to leave lying around. You are worthless to me.”

“I’m not translating that,” Nina snapped.

“Then translate this: My sole concern is keeping you away from Jan Van Eck, and if you want me to start exploring more definite options, a bullet is a lot cheaper than putting you on a ship to the Southern Colonies.”

Nina did translate, though haltingly.

Kuwei responded in Shu. She hesitated. “He says you’re cruel.”

“I’m pragmatic. If I were cruel, I’d give him a eulogy instead of a conversation. So, Kuwei, you’ll go to the Southern Colonies, and when the heat has died down, you can find your way to Ravka or Matthias’ grandmother’s house for all I care.”

“Leave my grandmother out of this,” Matthias said.

Nina translated, and at last, Kuwei gave a stiff nod. Though Matthias had gotten his way, the dejection on Nina’s face left a hollow feeling in his chest.

Kaz checked his watch. “Now that we’re in agreement, you all know what your responsibilities are. There are a lot of things that can go wrong between now and tomorrow night, so talk through the plan and then talk through it again. We only have one shot at this.”

“Van Eck will set up a perimeter. He’ll have her heavily guarded,” said Matthias.

“That’s right. He has more guns, more men, and more resources. All we have is surprise, and we’re not going to squander it.”

A soft scraping sounded from outside. Instantly, they were on their feet and ready, even Kuwei.

But a moment later Rotty and Specht slipped into the tomb.

Matthias released a breath and returned his rifle to where he kept it, always within arm’s reach.

“What business?” asked Kaz.

“The Shu have set up at their embassy,” said Specht. “Everyone on the Lid is talking about it.”

“Numbers?”

“Forty, give or take,” said Rotty, kicking the mud from his boots. “Heavily armed, but still operating under diplomatic flags. No one knows exactly what they want.”

“We do,” said Jesper.

“I didn’t get too near the Slat,” said Rotty, “but Per Haskell’s antsy, and he’s not being quiet about it. Without you around, work’s piling up for the old man. Now there are rumors you’re back in the city and had a run-in with a merch. Oh, and there was some kind of attack at one of the harbors a few days ago. Bunch of sailors killed, harbormaster’s office turned into a pile of splinters, but no one knows details.”

Matthias saw Kaz’s expression darken. He was hungry for more information. Matthias knew the demjin had other reasons for going after Inej, but the fact remained that, without her, their ability to gather intelligence had been severely compromised.

“All right,” said Kaz. “But no one’s connected us to the raid at the Ice Court or parem?”

“Not that I heard,” said Rotty.

“Nope,” said Specht.

Wylan looked surprised. “That means Pekka Rollins hasn’t talked.”

“Give him time,” said Kaz. “He knows we have Kuwei stashed somewhere. The letter to Ravka will only keep him chasing his tail for so long.”

Jesper tapped his fingers restlessly on his thighs. “Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?”

“So?” said Kaz.

“Well, usually it’s just half the city.”

Jesper might joke, but Matthias wondered if any of them really understood the powers arraying against them. Fjerda, the Shu Han, Novyi Zem, the Kaelish, the Kerch. These were not rival gangs or angry business partners. They were nations, determined to protect their people and secure their futures.

“There’s more,” said Specht. “Matthias, you’re dead.”

“Pardon?” Matthias’ Kerch was good, but perhaps there were still gaps.

“You were shanked in the Hellgate infirmary.”

The room went quiet. Jesper sat down heavily. “Muzzen is dead?”

“Muzzen?” Matthias could not place the name.

“He took your place in Hellgate,” Jesper said. “So you could join the Ice Court job.”

Matthias remembered the fight with the wolves, Nina standing in his cell, the prison break. Nina had covered a member of the Dregs in false sores and given him a fever to make sure he was quarantined and kept from the larger prison population. Muzzen. Matthias should not have forgotten such a thing.

“I thought you said you had a contact in the infirmary,” said Nina.

“To keep him sick, not to keep him safe.” Kaz’s face was grim. “It was a hit.”

“The Fjerdans,” said Nina.

Matthias folded his arms. “That’s not possible.”

“Why not?” Nina said. “We know there are drüskelle here. If they came to town looking for you and made noise at the Stadhall, they would have been told you were in Hellgate.”

“No,” said Matthias. “They wouldn’t resort to such an underhanded tactic. Hiring a killer? Murdering someone in his sickbed?” But even as he said the words, Matthias wasn’t sure he believed them. Jarl Brum and his officers had done worse without a twinge of conscience.

“Big, blond, and blind,” Jesper said. “The Fjerdan way.”

He died in my stead, Matthias thought. And I didn’t even recognize his name.

“Did Muzzen have family?” Matthias asked at last.

“Just the Dregs,” said Kaz.

“No mourners,” Nina murmured.

“No funerals,” Matthias replied quietly.

“How does it feel to be dead?” asked Jesper. The merry light had gone from his eyes.

Matthias had no answer. The knife that had killed Muzzen had been meant for Matthias, and the Fjerdans might well be responsible. The drüskelle. His brothers. They’d wanted him to die without honor, murdered in an infirmary bed. It was a death fit for a traitor. It was the death he had earned. Now Matthias owed Muzzen a blood debt, but how would he ever pay it? “What will they do with his body?” he asked.

“It’s probably already ashes on the Reaper’s Barge,” said Kaz.

“There’s something else,” said Rotty. “Someone’s kicking up dust looking for Jesper.”

“His creditors will have to wait,” said Kaz, and Jesper winced.

“No,” Rotty said with a shake of his head. “A man showed up at the university. Jesper, he claims he’s your father.”