Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,10

my name?”

Kaz leaned back. His look was almost challenging when he said, “A printing press.”

The same old joke. So why did it still sting? Wylan set the pen down. “I see.”

“He’s not what I would call a subtle man. Eil Komedie is in your name too.”

“Of course it is,” Wylan replied, wishing he sounded less bitter. Another private laugh for his father to enjoy—an abandoned island with nothing on it but a broken-down amusement park, a worthless place for his worthless, illiterate son. He shouldn’t have asked.

As the minutes ticked away and Kaz continued reading aloud, Wylan became increasingly agitated. If he could just read, they’d be moving twice as fast through the files. In fact, Wylan would already know his father’s business inside out. “I’m slowing you down,” he said.

Kaz flipped open another sheaf of documents. “I knew exactly how long this would take. What was your mother’s family name?”

“There’s nothing in her name.”

“Humor me.”

“Hendriks.”

Kaz walked to the shelves and selected another ledger. “When did she die?”

“When I was eight.” Wylan picked up the pen again. “My father got worse after she was gone.” At least that was how Wylan remembered it. The months after his mother’s death were a blur of sadness and silence. “He wouldn’t let me go to her funeral. I don’t even know where she’s buried. Why do you guys say that, anyway? No mourners, no funerals? Why not just say good luck or be safe?”

“We like to keep our expectations low.” Kaz’s gloved finger trailed down a column of numbers and stopped. His eyes moved back and forth between the two ledgers, then he snapped the leather covers shut. “Let’s go.”

“Did you find something?”

Kaz nodded once. “I know where she is.”

Wylan didn’t think he imagined the tension in the rasp of Kaz’s voice. Kaz never yelled the way Wylan’s father did, but Wylan had learned to listen for that low note, that bit of black harmony that crept into Kaz’s tone when things were about to get dangerous. He’d heard it after the fight at the docks when Inej lay bleeding from Oomen’s knife, then when Kaz had learned it was Pekka Rollins who had tried to ambush them, again when they’d been double-crossed by Wylan’s father. He’d heard it loud and clear atop the lighthouse as the clerk screamed for his life.

Wylan watched as Kaz set the room to rights. He moved an envelope a little more to the left, pulled a drawer on the largest file cabinet out a bit farther, pushed the chair back just so. When he was done he scanned the room, then plucked the pen from Wylan’s hands and set it carefully in its place on the desk.

“A proper thief is like a proper poison, merchling. He leaves no trace.” Kaz blew the lamp out. “Your father much for charity?”

“No. He tithes to Ghezen, but he says charity robs men of the chance at honest labor.”

“Well, he’s been making donations to the Church of Saint Hilde for the last eight years. If you want to pay your respects to your mother, that’s probably the place to start.”

Wylan stared at Kaz dumbly in the shadowy room. He’d never heard of the Church of Saint Hilde. And he’d never known Dirtyhands to share any bit of information that wouldn’t serve him. “What—”

“If Nina and Jesper did their jobs right, Smeet will be home soon. We can’t be here when he gets back or the whole plan goes to hell. Come on.”

Wylan felt like he’d been bashed over the head with a ledger and then told to just forget about it.

Kaz cracked opened the door. They both stopped short.

Over Kaz’s shoulder, Wylan saw a little girl standing on the landing, leaning on the neck of one of the massive gray dogs. She had to be about five, her toes barely visible beneath the hem of her flannel nightgown.

“Oh Ghezen,” Wylan whispered.

Kaz stepped out into the hall, pulling the door nearly shut behind him. Wylan hesitated in the darkened office, unsure of what he should do, terrified of what Kaz might do.

The girl looked up at Kaz with big eyes, then removed her thumb from her mouth. “Do you work for my da?”

“No.”

The memory came at Wylan again. I’m a good man. They’d ambushed the clerk coming out of the Menagerie and hauled him to the top of the lighthouse. Kaz had held him by his ankles and the clerk had wet himself, screaming and begging for mercy before he’d finally given