guns, a sure sign they were looking for more than a scuffle. The one in the lead wore a checked waist-coat across his broad chest and was swinging a chain in his hands. On his forearm, Nina could see a circular tattoo. She couldn’t make out the details from this distance, but she would have bet good money that it was a lion curled into a crown. The Dime Lions. Pekka Rollins’ boys. What the hell were they doing here?
Nina glanced up. Inej would be putting the weevil in the second silo. Hopefully she was out of their view. But just what did Pekka’s gang want?
The answer came moments later. “Heard there was a Heartrender hiding out in Sweet Reef,” said the boy in the checked waistcoat loudly, still swinging that chain.
Oh, Saints, that’s bad. Had the Dime Lions followed her and Inej from Black Veil? Were the others in trouble? And what if Pekka Rollins and his gang knew about the Grisha at the embassy? Some of them were violating their indentures by trying to leave the city. They could be blackmailed or worse. Pekka could sell them to the Shu. You have your own problems right now, Zenik , said a voice in her head. Stop worrying about saving the world and save your own ass. Sometimes her inner voice could be very wise.
One of the silo guards stepped forward—rather bravely, Nina thought, given the Dime Lions’ show of force. She couldn’t make out their exchange. A paper with a vibrant red seal changed hands. The guard gave it to his companion to read. After a moment he shrugged. And then, to Nina’s horror, the guard stepped forward and unlocked the gate. The lantern on the roof of the guardhouse flashed again. They were calling off reinforcements.
The red seal. Van Eck’s color. These were his silos, and there was no way the guards would risk opening that gate for anyone their employer hadn’t sanctioned. The implications made her head spin. Could Jan Van Eck and Pekka Rollins be working together? If so, the Dregs’ chances of getting out of the city alive had just turned to crumbs on a cake plate.
“Come on out, sweet Nina. Pekka’s got work for you.”
Nina saw that the chain the boy was swinging had a heavy manacle at the end. When she’d first come to Ketterdam, Pekka Rollins had offered her employment and his dubious protection. She’d chosen to sign with the Dregs instead. It seemed Pekka was done abiding by contracts or the laws of the gangs. He was going to clap her in chains, maybe sell her to the Shu or offer her up to Van Eck so that he could dose her with parem .
Nina was sheltered in the shadows of the second silo, but there was absolutely no way for her to move more than a few paces without exposing herself. She thought of the poison pill in her pocket.
“Don’t make us come get you, girl.” The boy was gesturing for the other Dime Lions to fan out.
Nina figured she had two advantages: First, the shackle at the end of that chain meant Pekka probably wanted her alive. He wouldn’t want to sacrifice a valuable Grisha Heartrender, so they wouldn’t shoot. Second, this assembly of geniuses didn’t know the parem had disrupted her powers. She might be able to buy herself and Inej some time.
Nina shook out her hair, summoned every bit of her courage, and strolled into the open. Instantly, she heard the sound of triggers cocking.
“Easy now,” she said, planting a hand on one hip. “I’m not going to be much good to Pekka if you plug me full of holes like the top of a saltshaker.”
“Well, hello, Grisha girl. You gonna make this fun for us?”
Depends on your definition. “What’s your name, handsome?”
The boy smiled, revealing a gold tooth and a surprisingly charming dimple. “Eamon.”
“That’s a nice Kaelish name. Ken ye hom? ”
“Ma was Kaelish. I don’t speak that gibber.”
“Well, how about you get your friends here to relax and lower those weapons so I can teach you some new words.”
“I don’t think so. I know the way them Heartrender powers work. Not letting you get hold of my insides.”
“Shame,” Nina said. “Listen, Eamon, there’s no need for trouble to night. I just want to know Pekka’s terms. If I’m going to cross Kaz, I need to know the pain is worth the price—”
“Kaz Brekker’s good as dead, darlin’. And Pekka ain’t offering no terms. You’re