Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,165

his first job, when he met Jesper and Kaz and Inej, when he’d begun to realize he was worth something.

Jan Van Eck was not going to get his wish. Wylan wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m here for her,” he said to the mirror.

The rosy-cheeked boy in the glass did not look impressed.

The sun had just started to rise as Pim led Wylan and Colm out the back of the hotel and through a series of confusing turns to the square that fronted the Exchange. Ordinarily, the bakery on Beurstraat would have been open at this hour, preparing to serve the traders and merchants on their way to the Exchange. But the auction had upended ordinary business and the baker had closed his shop, maybe hoping to secure a seat to watch the proceedings for himself.

They stood at the door on the deserted square for an excruciatingly long moment as Pim fumbled with the lock. Wylan realized he’d gotten used to the dexterity with which Kaz managed breaking and entering. The door opened with a too-loud jingle and then they were inside.

“No mourners,” said Pim. He vanished back through the door before Wylan could reply.

The bakery cases were empty, but the smell of bread and sugar lingered. Wylan and Colm settled themselves on the floor with their backs against the shelves, trying to make themselves comfortable. Kaz had left them with strict instructions, and Wylan had no interest in disregarding them. Johannus Rietveld could never be seen in the city again, and Wylan knew exactly what his father would do to him if he found his son roaming the streets of Ketterdam.

They sat in silence for hours. Colm dozed. Wylan hummed to himself, a tune that he’d had in his head for a while. It would need percussion, something with a rat-a-tat-tat like gunfire.

He took a cautious peek through the window and saw a few people headed toward the Church of Barter, starlings taking flight in the square, and there, only a few hundred yards away, the entrance to the Exchange. He didn’t need to be able to read the words engraved over the arch. He’d heard his father repeat them countless times. Enjent, Voorhent, Almhent. Industry, Integrity, Prosperity. Jan Van Eck had managed two out of three well enough.

Wylan didn’t realize Colm was awake until he said, “What made you lie for my son that day in the tomb?”

Wylan lowered himself back down to the floor. He chose his words carefully. “I guess I know what it’s like to get things wrong.”

Colm sighed. “Jesper gets a lot wrong. He’s reckless and foolish and apt to joke when it’s not warranted, but …” Wylan waited. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s a lot of trouble, a whole lot. But he’s worth it.”

“I—”

“And it’s my fault he is the way he is. I was trying to protect him, but maybe I saddled him with something worse than all the dangers I saw lurking out there.” Even in the weak morning light trickling through the bakery’s window, Wylan could see how weary Colm looked. “I made some big mistakes.”

Wylan drew a line on the floor with his finger. “You gave him someone to run to. No matter what he did or what went wrong. I think that’s bigger than the big mistakes.”

“See now? That’s why he likes you. I know, I know—it’s none of my business, and I have no idea if he’d be good for you. Probably bring you ten kinds of headache. But I think you’d be good for him.”

Wylan’s face heated. He knew how much Colm loved Jesper, had seen it in every gesture he’d made. It meant something that he thought Wylan was good enough for his son.

A sound came from near the delivery entrance, and they both stilled.

Wylan rose, heart pounding. “Remember,” he whispered to Colm. “Stay hidden.”

He made his way past the ovens to the back of the bakery. The smells were stronger here, the darkness more complete, but the room was empty. A false alarm.

“It’s not—”

The delivery door flew open. Hands grabbed Wylan from behind. His head was yanked back, his mouth forced open as a rag was stuffed inside. A bag was shoved over his head.

“Hey, little merch,” said a deep voice he didn’t recognize. “Ready to be reunited with your daddy?”

They wrenched his arms back and dragged him through the delivery door of the bakery. Wylan stumbled, barely able to keep his footing, unable to see or get his bearings. He fell, his knees banging