Six of Crows: Cloaked in Shadow

Chapter 29 - Nikolai

The house was very still after they left. Nikolai was no stranger to huge buildings – he lived in a palace, for Saints' sake! – but he'd just spent a good six months as Sturmhond on his ship, and the Grand Palace in Os Alta was never so empty. He almost missed Brekker's mismatched crew. Still thought they were off on a pointless suicide mission, though Brekker had done his best to explain before he left.

"So these three letters will solve all our problems?" he'd said, peering suspiciously down at the tight-folded envelopes. "There's only so much legal documents can do, and forgive me if I'll say that the law seems especially flimsy in Ketterdam."

Brekker had rubbed his bandaged hand against the table, grimacing. "Stupid thing won't stop itching," he'd muttered, then looked up, startled, as if he'd only just remembered they were talking. Nikolai had felt for him. He'd had wounds healed by Tolya and Tamar before, though none to this scale – Saints, just thinking of the oozing mess Brekker's fingers had been before the twins had cleaned them up made him sick – and he remembered the itching far too well. Felt like there were maggots under your skin, crawling and squirming and – ugh.

"Oh, right, the letters." Brekker closed his eyes for a brief moment, then collected himself. "Yes. Yes, they'll fix things. One's to the Merchant Council. It'll ban them from raising tariffs on Wylan's trades. One's to the Goudensbank itself – should invalidate the Mask's repayment of his loan. Make them seize the Silver Sun. And this one—" and here he slid the bottom letter across the table to Nikolai, "this pretty little paper'll force the Tides to let you leave."

"But they need to be validated," Nikolai had said. "With a seal from your High Council."

"Exactly what we're going to steal."

Nikolai had paused, taking in Brekker's appearance. Hair rumpled, messy, dark strands falling across his face; a bruise on his jaw and darker ones under his eyes; face hollowed out, lines spreading from his eyes that hadn't been there before. He looked starker, sharper than the boy Nikolai had hired. Younger, too. How much had his injury scarred him? Nikolai hadn't thought he wanted to know.

"Are you sure you should be going?" Nikolai had said carefully. "Perhaps it would be wiser for you to stay with me. Guard me, maybe – I did hire you for protection, after all." He didn't mention that Brekker would be no help in a fight with shattered hands. Thug and bastard he might be, but he was still a boy, and Nikolai wouldn't let him limp to his death without at least trying to turn him round.

But Brekker's face had hardened. It wasn't nearly as impressive as it had been. Instead of looking intimidating, he just seemed brittle. "I'm going," he said, and on the table his hand twitched slightly. "Nina can stay with you."

Nikolai hadn't pressed it further.

So now he was sitting in a near-empty house, stuck with the frustrated not-quite-Heartrender pacing in front of him. Brekker and his crew had disappeared to the Goudensbank, along with that polite, grey-eyed Shu girl with the restless gaze and the knives. Tolya and Tamar were in the ship. He'd felt bad for keeping them working for so long, and they were drained after healing Brekker. And Tamar had wanted to see Nadia, and Tolya had bought a new book of poetry in the Ketterdam markets, and he wasn't made of stone. He'd let them go.

And now he was pretty much alone.

"Stop it," Nina snapped suddenly.

"Stop what? Thinking?"

"Feeling sorry for yourself."

Nikolai folded his arms. "I wouldn't have to if you'd actually talk to me."