painfully against the cobblestones, and he was yanked back up.
“Don’t make me carry you, little merch. Not getting paid for that.”
“This way,” said one of the others, a girl. “Pekka’s on the southern side of the cathedral.”
“Hold,” said a new voice. “Who do you have there?”
His tone was officious. Stadwatch , Wylan thought.
“Someone Councilman Van Eck is going to be very happy to see.”
“Is he from Kaz Brekker’s crew?”
“Just run along like a good grunt and tell him the Dime Lions have a present waiting for him in the armaments chapel.”
Wylan heard crowds a little way off. Were they near the church? A moment later he was pulled roughly forward and the sounds changed. They were inside. The air was cooler, the light dimmer. He was dragged up another set of stairs, his shins banging against their edges, and then shoved into a chair, his hands bound behind his back.
He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, the sound of a door opening.
“We got him,” said that same deep voice.
“Where?” Wylan’s heart stuttered. Sound it out, Wylan. A child half your age can read this without trying. He’d thought he was ready for this.
“Brekker had him stashed in a bakery just a few blocks away.”
“How did you find him?”
“Pekka’s had us searching the area. Figured Brekker might try to pull some stunt at the auction.”
“No doubt intending to humiliate me,” said Jan Van Eck.
The bag was yanked from Wylan’s head and he looked into his father’s face.
Van Eck shook his head. “Every time I think you cannot disappoint me further, you prove me wrong.”
They were in a small chapel topped by a dome. The oil paintings on the wall featured battle scenes and piles of armaments. The chapel must have been donated by a family of weapons manufacturers.
Over the last few days, Wylan had studied the layout of the Church of Barter, mapping the rooftop niches and alcoves with Inej, sketching the cathedral and long finger naves of Ghezen’s hand. He knew exactly where he was—one of the chapels at the end of Ghezen’s pinky. The floor was carpeted, the only door led to the stairway, and the only windows opened onto the roof. Even if he wasn’t gagged, he doubted anyone but the paintings would be able to hear him cry for help. Two people stood behind Van Eck: a girl in striped trousers, the yellow hair shaved from half of her head, and a stout boy in plaid and suspenders. Both wore the purple armbands indicating they’d been deputized by the stadwatch . Both bore the Dime Lion tattoo.
The boy grinned. “You want me to go get Pekka?” he asked Van Eck.
“No need. I want him keeping his eyes on the preparations for the auction. And this is something I’d prefer to handle myself.” Van Eck leaned down. “Listen, boy. The Wraith was spotted with a member of the Grisha Triumvirate. I know Brekker is working with the Ravkans. For all your many shortcomings, you still carry my blood. Tell me what he has planned and I’ll see you’re taken care of. You’ll have an allowance. You can live somewhere in comfort. I’m going to remove your gag. If you scream, I’ll let Pekka’s friends do whatever they like to you, understood?”
Wylan nodded. His father tugged the rag from his mouth.
Wylan ran his tongue over his lips and spat in his father’s face.
Van Eck drew a snowy monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket. It was embroidered with the red laurel. “An apt retort from a boy who can barely form words.” He wiped the saliva from his face. “Let’s try this again. Tell me what Brekker is planning with the Ravkans and I may let you live.”
“The way you let my mother live?”
His father’s flinch was barely perceptible, a marionette yanked once by its strings, then allowed to return to rest.
Van Eck folded his soiled handkerchief twice, tucked it away. He nodded to the boy and the girl. “Do whatever you have to. The auction starts in less than an hour, and I want answers before then.”
“Hold him up,” the stout boy said to the girl. She hauled Wylan to his feet, and the boy slipped a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket. “He’s not going to be so pretty after this.”
“Who is there to care?” Van Eck said with a shrug. “Just make sure you keep him conscious. I want information.”
The boy eyed Wylan skeptically. “You sure you want to do it this way, little merch?”
Wylan summoned every