Rule of Wolves (King of Scars #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,127

every doorway, promising the biggest pots and the liveliest play.

“You don’t agree,” he said with some surprise.

Zoya eyed an imposing building that Nikolai could have sworn had been called the Emerald … Empire? Palace? It had once been done up in Kaelish green and gold. Now it was outfitted in heaps of fake jewels, and a sign over the door read THE SILVER SIX.

A barker shouted at an old panhandler, chasing him from his roost beside the door. “Go on with you! Don’t make me call the stadwatch.” The man hobbled a few steps off, nearly toppling over his walking stick, his old body twisted by time and trouble.

“Spare a coin for an old fool what’s lost his luck?”

“I said go! You’re scaring off the pigeons.”

“Easy now,” said Nikolai. “We’re all someone’s uncle.”

“I don’t have no brothers or sisters,” said the barker.

Nikolai tossed a folded kruge into the old man’s cap. “Then let’s all give thanks your parents didn’t make more of you.”

“Hey!” snarled the barker, but they were already moving on.

“That’s what I mean,” said Zoya as they crossed another bridge. “This city is all about the next bit of coin.”

“And they’re richer for it.”

The energy of the Barrel felt contagious—the street vendors hawking paper cones full of sizzling meat and syrupy stacks of waffles, two-bit magicians daring passersby to try their luck, drunken tourists outfitted as the Gray Imp or the Lost Bride, and smooth-limbed creatures of impossible beauty, bodies clad in bare scraps of silk, cheekbones dusted with glitter, luring the lonely or curious across one of the many bridges to the pleasure houses of West Stave. The sheer amount of money passing through this place, the endless tide of people—there was nothing like it in Ravka.

She shook her head. “You see this city from the position of a king. A prince who came here as a student, a privateer who rules the seas. From where I stand, the view is not the same.”

“Because you’re Grisha?”

“Because I know what it is to be sold.” She gestured to the busy street and the canal teeming with gondels and market boats. “I know we need this. Jobs for our people, money in our coffers. But Ketterdam was built on the backs of the vulnerable. Grisha indentures. Suli and Zemeni and Kaelish who came here for something better but weren’t permitted to own land or hold positions on the Merchant Council.”

“Then we take what we like from the Kerch and leave the rest. We build something better, something for everyone.”

“If fate gives us half a chance.”

“And if fate doesn’t give us the chance, we steal it.”

“Ketterdam is rubbing off on you.” A small smile curled her lips. “But I think I believe you. Maybe it’s the coat.”

Nikolai winked at her. “It’s not the coat.”

“Come closer so I can push you into the canal.”

“I think not.”

“I do want prosperity for Ravka,” said Zoya. “But for all of Ravka. Not just the nobles in their palaces or the merchants with their fleets of ships.”

“Then we build that future together.”

“Together,” Zoya repeated. Her expression was troubled.

“What doomsaying is happening behind that gorgeous face, Nazyalensky?”

“If we survive the war … Once peace is struck, you should station me elsewhere.”

“I see,” he said, unwilling to show how much those words bothered him. “Did you have someplace in mind?”

“Os Kervo. We’ll need a strong presence there.”

“You’ve thought it all out, then.”

She nodded, two quick bobs of her chin. “I have.”

All for the best. Peace would mean seeking a new alliance, a bride who could help keep Ravka independent. A memory came to him, the fleeting image of Zoya at his bedside. She’d pressed a kiss to his forehead. Her touch had been cool as a breeze off the sea. But that had never happened and never would. He must have dreamed it.

“Very well. You may have any command you wish. Assuming we survive.”

“We had better,” she said, tugging at her roughspun sleeves. “It’s going to take me two days to wash off the stench of cheap perfume and bilgewater. How can we be sure Brekker will help us at all?”

“He’s a man who believes everything has a price, so I think he will.”

“But can he help us?”

“That I can’t be sure of. But we don’t have time to gather the intelligence we’d need to steal the titanium on our own. He knows this city and its dealings better than anyone.”

“Saints,” Zoya gasped as the Crow Club came into view. It looked like a great black bird