They’d been blessed with a strong wind. Inej felt it ripple through her hair and couldn’t help but think of the storm to come.
As soon as they were on deck, Matthias had turned to Kuwei. “How long does she have?”
Kuwei had some Kerch, but Nina had to translate in places. She did it distractedly, her glittering eyes roving over everyone and everything.
“The high will last one hour, maybe two. It depends how long it takes her body to process a dose of that size.”
“Why can’t you just purge it from your body like the bullets?” Matthias asked Nina desperately.
“It doesn’t work,” said Kuwei. “Even if she could overcome the craving for long enough to start purging it from her body, she’ll lose the ability to pull the parem from her system before it’s all gone. You’d need another Corporalnik using parem to accomplish it.”
“What will it do to her?” asked Wylan.
“You’ve seen for yourself,” Matthias replied bitterly. “We know what’s going to happen.”
Kaz crossed his arms, “How will it start?”
“Body aches, chills, no worse than a mild illness,” Kuwei explained. “Then a kind of hypersensitivity, followed by tremors, and the craving.”
“Do you have more of the parem?” Matthias asked. “Yes.”
“Enough to get her back to Ketterdam?” “I won’t take more,” Nina protested.
“I have enough to keep you comfortable,” Kuwei said. “But if you take a second dose, there is no hope at all.” He looked to Matthias. “This is her one chance. It’s possible her body will purge enough of it naturally that addiction won’t set in.”
“And if it does?”
Kuwei held out his hands, part shrug, part apology. “Without a ready supply of the drug, she’ll go mad. With it, her body will simply wear itself out. Do you know the word parem? It’s the name my father gave to the drug. It means ‘without pity’.”
When Nina finished translating, there was a long pause.
“I don’t want to hear any more,” she said. “None of it will change what’s coming.”
She drifted away towards the prow. Matthias watched her go.
“The water hears and understands,” he murmured beneath his breath. Inej sought out Rotty and got him to dig up the wool coats she and
Nina had left behind in favour of their cold weather gear when they’d landed on the northern shore. She found Nina near the prow, gazing out at the sea.
“One hour, maybe two,” Nina said without turning.
Inej halted in shock. “You heard me approach?” No one heard the Wraith, especially over the sound of the wind and sea.
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t those silent feet that gave you away. I can hear your pulse, your breathing.”
“And you knew it was me?”
“Every heart sounds different. I never realised that before.”
Inej joined her at the rail and handed over Nina’s coat. The Grisha put it on, though the cold didn’t seem to be bothering her. Above them, the stars shone bright between silver-seeded drifts of cloud. Inej was ready for dawn, ready for this long night to be over, and the journey, too. She was surprised to find she was eager to see Ketterdam again. She wanted an omelette, a mug of too-sweet coffee. She wanted to hear the rain on the rooftops and sit snug and warm in her tiny room at the Slat. There were adventures to come, but they could wait until she’d had a hot bath –maybe a few of them.
Nina buried her face in her coat’s woollen collar and said, “I wish you could see what I do. I can hear every body on this ship, the blood rushing
through their veins. I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing when he looks at you.”
“You … you can?”
“It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”
“And what about Matthias?” Inej asked, eager to change the subject.
Nina raised a brow, unfooled. “Matthias is afraid for me, but his heart thumps a steady rhythm no matter what he’s feeling. So Fjerdan, so orderly.”
“I didn’t think you’d let those men live, back at the harbour.”
“I’m not sure it was the right thing to do. I’ll become one more Grisha horror story for them to tell their children.”
“Behave or Nina Zenik will get you?”
Nina considered. “Well, I do like the sound of that.”
Inej leaned back on the railing and peered at Nina. “You look radiant.”
“It won’t last.”
“It never does.” Then Inej’s smile faltered. “Are you afraid?” “Terrified.”
“We’ll all be here with you.”
Nina took a wobbly breath and nodded.
Inej had made countless alliances in Ketterdam, but few friends. She rested her head against Nina’s shoulder. “If I were a Suli seer,” she said, “I could look into the future and tell you it will be all right.”
“Or that I’m going to die in agony.” Nina pressed her cheek against the top of Inej’s head. “Tell me something good anyway.”
“It will be all right,” Inej said. “You’ll survive this. And then you’re going to be very, very rich. You’ll sing sea shanties and drinking songs nightly in an East Stave cabaret, and you’ll bribe everyone to give you standing ovations after every song.”
Nina laughed softly. “Let’s buy the Menagerie.”
Inej grinned, thinking of the future and her little ship. “Let’s buy it and burn it down.”
They watched the waves for a while. “Ready?” Nina said.
Inej was glad she hadn’t had to ask. She pushed up her sleeve, baring the peacock feather and mottled skin beneath it.
It took the barest second, the softest brush of Nina’s fingertips. The itch was acute but passed quickly. When the prickling faded, the skin of
Inej’s forearm was perfect—almost too smooth and flawless, like it was the one new part of her.
Inej touched the soft skin. Just like that it was done. If only every wound could be banished so easily.
Nina kissed Inej’s cheek. “I’m going to find Matthias before things get bad.”
But as she walked away, Inej saw Nina had another reason to depart. Kaz was standing in the shadows near the mast. He had a heavy coat on and was leaning on his crow-head cane – he looked almost like himself again. Inej’s knives would be waiting in the hold with her other belongings. She’d missed her claws.
Kaz murmured a few words to Nina, and the Grisha reared back in surprise. Inej couldn’t make out the rest of what they said, but she could tell the exchange was tense before Nina made an exasperated sound and vanished belowdecks.
“What did you say to Nina?” Inej asked when he joined her at the rail. “I have a job I need her to perform.”
“She’s about to go through a terrifying ordeal—” “And work still needs to get done.”
Pragmatic Kaz. Why let empathy get in the way? Maybe Nina would be glad for the distraction.
They stood together, gazing out at the waves, silence stretching between them.
“We’re alive,” he said at last.
“It seems you prayed to the right god.” “Or travelled with the right people.”
Inej shrugged. “Who chooses our paths?” He said nothing, and she had to smile. “No sharp retort? No laughing at my Suli proverbs?”
He ran his gloved thumb over the rail. “No.” “How will we meet the Merchant Council?”
“When we’re a few miles out, Rotty and I will row to harbour in the longboat. We’ll find a runner to get word to Van Eck and make the exchange on Vellgeluk.”
Inej shivered. The island was popular with slavers and smugglers. “The Council’s choice or yours?”
“Van Eck suggested it.”
Inej frowned. “Why does a mercher know about Vellgeluk?”
“Trade is trade. Maybe Van Eck isn’t quite the upstanding merch he seems.”
They were silent for a while. Finally, she said, “I’m going to learn to sail.”
Kaz’s brow furrowed, and he cast her a surprised glance. “Really?
Why?”
“I want to use my money to hire a crew and outfit a ship.” Saying the words wrapped her breath up in an anxious spool. Her dream still felt fragile. She didn’t want to care what Kaz thought, but she did. “I’m going to hunt slavers.”
“Purpose,” he said thoughtfully. “You know you can’t stop them all.” “If I don’t try, I won’t stop any.”
“Then I almost pity the slavers,” Kaz said. “They have no idea what’s coming for them.”
A pleased flush warmed her cheeks. But hadn’t Kaz always believed she was dangerous?
Inej balanced her elbows on the railing and rested her chin in her palms. “I’ll go home first, though.”
“To Ravka?” She nodded.
“To find your family.”
“Yes.” Only two days ago, she would have left it at that, respecting their unspoken agreement to tread lightly in each other’s pasts. Now she said, “Was there no one but your brother, Kaz? Where are your mother and father?”
“Barrel boys don’t have parents. We’re born in the harbour and crawl out of the canals.”
Inej shook her head. She watched the sea shift and sigh, each wave a breath. She could just make out the horizon, the barest difference between black sky and blacker sea. She thought of her parents. She’d been away from them for nearly three years. How would they have changed? Could she be their daughter again? Maybe not right away. But she wanted to sit with her father on the steps of the wagon eating fruit from the trees. She wanted to see her mother dust chalk from her hands before she prepared the evening meal. She wanted tall southern grasses and the vast sky above the Sikurzoi Mountains. Something she needed was waiting for her there. What did Kaz need?
“You’re about to be rich, Kaz. What will you do when there’s no more blood to shed or vengeance to take?”
“There’s always more.”
“More money, more mayhem, more scores to settle. Was there never another dream?”
He said nothing. What had carved all the hope from his heart? She might never know.
Inej turned to go. Kaz seized her hand, keeping it on the railing. He didn’t look at her. “Stay,” he said, his voice rough stone. “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.”
She looked down at his gloved hand clutching hers. Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she’d been through. “What would be the point?”
He took a breath. “I want you to stay. I want you to … I want you.” “You want me.” She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his
hand. “And how will you have me, Kaz?”
He looked at her then, eyes fierce, mouth set. It was the face he wore when he was fighting.
“How will you have me?” she repeated. “Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch?”
He released her hand, his shoulders bunching, his gaze angry and ashamed as he turned his face to the sea.
Maybe it was because his back was to her that she could finally speak the words. “I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”
Speak, she begged silently. Give me a reason to stay. For all his selfishness and cruelty, Kaz was still the boy who had saved her. She wanted to believe he was worth saving, too.
The sails creaked. The clouds parted for the moon then gathered back around her.
Inej left Kaz with the wind howling and dawn still a long while away.
