“I am, Doughty. And a good night it’ll be too.”
When he climbed into bed, he knew he would not dream of his son crying or the grave or that dark chorus standing above him, laughing. Tonight he’d dream of the Wandering Isle, of its rolling green fields and the mists that wreathed its mountains. In the morning, he would rise refreshed and restored, ready to see to the real work of reclaiming his throne.
Instead he woke with the weight of a heavy rock on his chest. His first thought was of the grave, the weight of earth pressing down on him. Then he came back to himself. His bedroom was dark, and someone was on top of him. He gasped and tried to shove up from his sheets, but he felt a pair of knees and elbows locked onto him, the stinging press of a blade against his neck.
“I’ll kill you,” Pekka gasped.
“You already tried.” A woman’s voice—no, a girl’s.
He opened his mouth to bellow for his guards.
She jabbed at his neck with the knife. Pekka hissed as blood trickled into his collar. “Scream and I’ll use this blade to pin your throat to the pillow.”
“What do you want?”
“Do you like life, Rollins?” When he didn’t answer, she jabbed him again. “I asked you a question. Do you like life?”
“How did you get past my guards?”
“You call those guards?”
“You killed them?”
“I didn’t bother.”
“The only window is barred. It—”
“I am the Wraith, Rollins. Do you think bars can stop me?”
Brekker’s little Suli girl. He cursed the money he’d spent on that Ravkan mercenary.
“So Brekker sent you to deliver a message?” he asked.
“I have my own message to deliver.”
“Tell me what deal you struck with Brekker. Whatever he’s paying you, I can double it.”
“Shhhh,” the girl said, pressing down with her knees. Pekka felt something in his shoulder pop. “I left pretty Dunyasha’s brains dashed all over the Ketterdam cobblestones. I want you to think about what I could do to you.”
“Why don’t you just kill me now and save your threats?” He would not be cowed by some slip of a girl from the Menagerie.
“Death is a gift you haven’t yet earned.”
“You—”
She stuffed something in his mouth.
“You can scream now,” she crooned. She peeled back the fabric of his nightshirt, and then her knife was digging into his chest. He screamed around the gag, trying to buck her off.
“Careful now,” she said. “You wouldn’t want me to slip.”
Pekka forced himself to still. He realized how long it had been since he’d felt real pain. No one had dared lift a hand against him in years.
“Better.”
She sat back slightly as if to review her work. Panting, Pekka peered down but could see nothing. A wave of nausea rolled through him.
“This was the first cut, Rollins. If you ever think about coming back to Ketterdam, we’ll meet again so I can make the second.”
She replaced his nightshirt with a little pat and was gone. He didn’t hear her leave, only felt her weight release from his chest. He tore the rag from his mouth and rolled over, fumbling for the lamp. Light flooded the room—the dresser, the mirror, the washbasin. There was no one there. He stumbled to the window. It was still barred and locked. His chest burned where she’d used her knife on him.
He lurched to his dressing table and yanked back his blood-soaked nightshirt. She’d made a precise slash, directly above his heart. Blood spilled from it in thick, seeping pulses. This was the first cut. Bile rose in his throat.
All the Saints and their mothers , he thought. She’s going to cut the heart from my chest.
Pekka thought of Dunyasha, one of the most gifted assassins in the world, a creature without conscience or mercy—and the Wraith had bested her. Maybe she really wasn’t entirely human.
Alby.
He crashed through the door into the hallway, past the guards still posted there. They came to attention, stunned expressions on their faces, but he raced past them, careening down the hall to his son’s room. Please , he begged silently, please, please, please.
He threw the door open. Light from the hall spilled over the bed. Alby was on his side, sleeping soundly, his thumb tucked into his mouth. Pekka slumped against the doorjamb, weak with relief, holding his nightshirt to his bleeding chest. Then he saw the toy his son was clutching in his arms. The lion was gone. In its place was a black-winged crow.
Pekka recoiled as if he’d seen his son asleep with his cheek on a hairy-legged spider.
He shut the door gently and strode back down the hall.
“Get Shay and Gerrigan out of bed,” he said.
“What happened?” asked Doughty. “Should I call a medik?”
“Tell them to start packing our bags. And gather up all the cash we have.”
“Where are we going?”
“As far away as we can get.”
Rollins slammed the bedroom door behind him. He went back to his window and tested the bars again. Still solid. Still locked. In the black shine of the glass he could see his reflection, and he didn’t recognize himself. Who was this man with thinning hair and frightened eyes? There’d been a time when he would have faced any threat with chin up and guns blazing. What had changed? Was it just time? No , he realized, it’s success. He’d gotten comfortable and found that he enjoyed it.
Pekka sat before his mirror and began to wipe the blood from his chest. He’d taken pride in making Ketterdam his. He’d laid the traps, set the fires, put his boot to the necks of all those who’d challenged him, and reaped the rewards of his boldness. Most of the opposition had fallen, easy pickings, the occasional challenge almost welcome for the excitement it brought. He’d broken the Barrel to his whim, written the rules of the game to his liking, rewritten them at will.
The problem was that the creatures who had managed to survive the city he’d made were a new kind of misery entirely—Brekker, his Wraith queen, his rotten little court of thugs. A fearless breed, hard-eyed and feral, hungrier for vengeance than for gold.
Do you like life, Rollins?
Yes, he did, very much indeed, and he intended to go on living for a good long time.
Pekka would count his money. He would raise his son. He’d find himself a good woman or two or ten. And maybe, in the quiet hours, he’d raise a glass to the men like him, to his fellow architects of misfortune who had helped raise Brekker and his crew. He’d drink to the whole sorry lot of them, but mostly to the poor fools who didn’t know what trouble was coming.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Adem Bajan [ad -em bah-zhahn ]
Music instructor indentured to Jan Van Eck
Aditi Hilli [uh-dee -tee hee -lee] (deceased)
Jesper Fahey’s mother
Alina Starkov [uh-lee -nuh stahr -kovf] (deceased)
Grisha Etherealnik (Sun Summoner); former leader of the Second Army
Alys Van Eck [al -is van ek]
Jan Van Eck’s second wife
Anika [an -i-kuh ]
Member of the Dregs
Anya [ahn -yuh] (deceased)
Grisha Healer indentured to Councilman Hoede
Bastian [bas -chuhn]
Member of the Dregs
Beatle [bee -tuhl]
Member of the Dregs
Betje [beh -chyuh]
Caretaker at Saint Hilde
Big Bolliger [big bah -luh-gur]
Former member of the Dregs; exiled
Bo Yul-Bayur [boh yool -bye-yur ] (deceased)
Inventor of jurda parem who attempted to defect from the Shu Han; Kuwei Yul-Bo’s father
Colm Fahey [kohm fay -hee]
Jesper Fahey’s father
Cornelis Smeet [kor-nel -uhs smeet]
Jan Van Eck’s lawyer and property manager
Danil Markov [da -nuhl mahr -kovf]
Grisha Inferni inden
tured at the Anvil
Darkling [dahr -kling]
Grisha Etherealnik and title held by former leaders of the Second Army; real name unknown
David Kostyk [day -vid kah -stik]
Grisha Fabrikator (Durast); member of the Ravkan Triumvirate
Dirix [deer -iks] (deceased)
Member of the Dregs
Doughty [dow -tee]
Member of the Dime Lions
Dunyasha Lazareva [duhn-yah -shuh lahts -uh-ray -vuh]
A mercenary; also known as the White Blade of Ahmrat Jen
Eamon [ay -muhn]
Dime Lions lieutenant
Elzinger [el -zing-ur]
Member of the Black Tips
Emil Retvenko [eh-meel red-veng -koh]
Grisha Squaller indentured to Councilman Hoede’s estate
Eroll Aerts [air -uhl airts]
Member of the Dime Lions
Filip [fil -uhp] (deceased)
Member of the Dime Lions
Geels [geelz]
Black Tips lieutenant
Genya Safin [jen -yuh saf -in]
Grisha Tailor; member of the Ravkan Triumvirate
Gerrigan [gair -uh-ghin ]
Member of the Dime Lions
Gorka [gor -kuh]
Member of the Dregs
Hanna Smeet [ha -nuh smeet]
Daughter of Cornelis Smeet
Heleen Van Houden [huh-leen van hou -tuhn]
Owner and chief procurer of the Menagerie (the House of Exotics); also known as the Peacock
Hoede [hohd] (deceased)
Member of the Kerch Merchant Council
Inej Ghafa [in-ezh guh-fah ]
Member of the Dregs; spider and secret-gatherer; also known as the Wraith
Jan Van Eck [yahn van ek]
Shipping magnate and prominent merchant; member of the Kerch Merchant Council; Wylan Van Eck’s father
Jarl Brum [yarl broom]
Commander of the Fjerdan drüskelle
Jellen Radmakker [yel -uhn rahd -mah-kur]
Prominent merchant
Jesper Fahey [jes -pur fay -hee]
Member of the Dregs; sharpshooter
Jordan Rietveld [jor -duhn reet -veld] (deceased)
Kaz Brekker’s older brother
Karl Dryden [karl drye -duhn]
Most junior member of the Kerch Merchant Council
Kaz Brekker [kaz brek -ur]
Dregs lieutenant; also known as Dirtyhands
Keeg [keeg]
Member of the Dregs
Kuwei Yul-Bo [koo-way yool -boh ]
Grisha Inferni and Shu defector; son of Bo Yul-Bayur
Marya Hendriks [mahr -ee-yuh hen -driks] (deceased)
Jan Van Eck’s first wife; Wylan Van Eck’s mother
Matthias Helvar [muh-tye -uhs hel -vahr]
Disgraced Fjerdan drüskelle
Miggson [mig -suhn]
An employee of Jan Van Eck
Milo [mye -loh]
Member of the Dregs
Muzzen [muh -zuhn]
Member of the Dregs
Naten Boreg [nay -tuhn bor -eg]
Member of the Kerch Merchant Council
Nikolai Lantsov [ni -koh-lye lan -tsovf]
King of Ravka
Nina Zenik [nee -nuh zen -uhk]
Member of the Dregs; Grisha Heartrender
Onkle Felix [uhng -kuhl fee -liks]
Chief procurer of the House of the White Rose
Oomen [oo -muhn] (deceased)
Member of the Black Tips
Pekka Rollins [pek -uh rah -luhnz]
Dime Lions general
Per Haskell [pair has -kuhl]
Dregs general
Pim [pim]
Member of the Dregs
Prior [prye -ur]
An employee of Jan Van Eck
Raske [rask]
Freelance demolitions expert
Red Felix [red fee -liks]
Member of the Dregs
Roeder [roh -dur]
Member of the Dregs
Rotty [rah -tee]
Member of the Dregs
Seeger [see -gur]
Member of the Dregs
Shay [shay]
Member of the Dime Lions
Specht [spekt]
Member of the Dregs; forger and former naval officer
Sturmhond [sturm -hahnd ]
Privateer and emissary of the Ravkan government
Swann [swahn]
Member of the Dregs
Tamar Kir-Bataar [tay -mahr keer -buh-tahr ]
Grisha Heartrender; captain of King Nikolai’s personal guard
Varian [vair -ee-yuhn]
Member of the Dregs
Wylan Van Eck [wye -luhn van ek]
Son of Jan Van Eck
Zoya Nazyalensky [zoi -yuh nahz -yuh-len -skee]
Grisha Squaller; member of the Ravkan Triumvirate
Acknowledgments
Joanna Volpe a.k.a. the Wolf a.k.a. the funniest, toughest, smartest, most patient agent around—thank you for being my dear friend and ferocious advocate. And to everyone at Team New Leaf—especially Jackie, Jaida, Mike, Kathleen, Mia, Chris, Hilary, Danielle, and Pouya “All Star” Shahbazian—thank you for being an agency, a family, and an army. I love you guys.
Holly Black and Sarah Rees Brennan helped me find the heart of this story when all I could see were its bones. Robin Wasserman, Sarah Mesle, Daniel José Older, and the brilliant Morgan Fahey provided invaluable editorial feedback. Rachael, Robyn, and Flash spent many hours in my living room and garden keeping me company. Amie Kaufman and Marie Lu are hilarious, beautiful warrior angels who put up with a lot of ridiculous e-mails from me. Rainbow Rowell is a Gryffindor, but I guess we’re cool. Anne Grasser managed my schedule and my kooky requests with ease and patience. Nina Douglas championed my books in the UK and kept me laughing on the road. Noa Wheeler, thank you for staying in Ketterdam a little while longer and seeing me (and our misfit crew) through this adventure.
As always, I owe a blood debt to Kayte Ghaffar, my right-hand man, my genius on call, who has lent so much time and creativity to me and these books.
Many thanks to my Macmillan family: Jon, Laura, Jean, Lauren, Angus, Liz, Holly, Caitlin, Kallam, Kathryn, Lucy, Katie, April, Mariel, KB, Eileen, Tom, Melinda, Rich (who somehow managed to outdo himself on this cover), every single person in sales who got this book onto shelves, every single person in marketing who got people to pick it up. And a very special thank-you to the incredible team of publicists who have toured with me and taken care of me and listened to me blather in airports—Morgan, Brittany, Mary, Allison, and especially the Marvelous Molly Brouillette, who worked such magic with this series.
Thank you to Steven Klein for his help in thinking about sleight of hand and grand illusions; Angela DePace for helping me finesse the chemical weevil and auric acid; and Josh Minuto, who put the storm in brainstorm when it was time to bring Kuwei back from the dead.
Lulu, thank you for putting off holidays, suffering my moods, and keeping me in peonies. Christine, Sam, Emily, and Ryan, I am so glad we’re family. Corn pie for all!
To all of the readers, librarians, bloggers, BookTubers, Instagrammers, booklr denizens, fic writers, artists, and makers of edits and playlists: Thank you for bringing the Grisha world to life beyond the pages of these books. I am truly grateful.
And finally, if you’d like to help stop human trafficking and forced labor in our world, you don’t need a schooner and heavy cannon. GAATW.org offers online resources and information on reputable organizations that would welcome your support.
To Holly and Sarah, who helped me build;
Noa, who made sure the walls stayed standing;
Jo, who kept me standing too.
AN INDIGO EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2016by Hodder and Stoughton
This eBook first published in 2016 by Hodder and Stoughton
Text © Leigh Bardugo 2016
Map illustra
tion © 7092954 CANADA LTD 2016
The rights of the author have been asserted.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
eBook conversion by PDQ Digital Media Solutions, Bungay, Suffolk
ISBN: 978 1 78062 232 3
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Crooked Kingdom: Book 2 (Six of Crows) Page 51
