under diplomatic flags. No one knows exactly what they want.”
“We do,” said Jesper.
“I didn’t get too near the Slat,” said Rotty, “but Per Haskell’s antsy, and he’s not being quiet about it. Without you around, work’s piling up for the old man. Now there are rumors you’re back in the city and had a run-in with a merch. Oh, and there was some kind of attack at one of the harbors a few days ago. Bunch of sailors killed, harbormaster’s office turned into a pile of splinters, but no one knows details.”
Matthias saw Kaz’s expression darken. He was hungry for more information. Matthias knew the demjin had other reasons for going after Inej, but the fact remained that, without her, their ability to gather intelligence had been severely compromised.
“All right,” said Kaz. “But no one’s connected us to the raid at the Ice Court or parem ?”
“Not that I heard,” said Rotty.
“Nope,” said Specht.
Wylan looked surprised. “That means Pekka Rollins hasn’t talked.”
“Give him time,” said Kaz. “He knows we have Kuwei stashed somewhere. The letter to Ravka will only keep him chasing his tail for so long.”
Jesper tapped his fingers restlessly on his thighs. “Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?”
“So?” said Kaz.
“Well, usually it’s just half the city.”
Jesper might joke, but Matthias wondered if any of them really understood the powers arraying against them. Fjerda, the Shu Han, Novyi Zem, the Kaelish, the Kerch. These were not rival gangs or angry business partners. They were nations, determined to protect their people and secure their futures.
“There’s more,” said Specht. “Matthias, you’re dead.”
“Pardon?” Matthias’ Kerch was good, but perhaps there were still gaps.
“You were shanked in the Hellgate infirmary.”
The room went quiet. Jesper sat down heavily. “Muzzen is dead?”
“Muzzen?” Matthias could not place the name.
“He took your place in Hellgate,” Jesper said. “So you could join the Ice Court job.”
Matthias remembered the fight with the wolves, Nina standing in his cell, the prison break. Nina had covered a member of the Dregs in false sores and given him a fever to make sure he was quarantined and kept from the larger prison population. Muzzen. Matthias should not have forgotten such a thing.
“I thought you said you had a contact in the infirmary,” said Nina.
“To keep him sick, not to keep him safe.” Kaz’s face was grim. “It was a hit.”
“The Fjerdans,” said Nina.
Matthias folded his arms. “That’s not possible.”
“Why not?” Nina said. “We know there are drüskelle here. If they came to town looking for you and made noise at the Stadhall, they would have been told you were in Hellgate.”
“No,” said Matthias. “They wouldn’t resort to such an underhanded tactic. Hiring a killer? Murdering someone in his sickbed?” But even as he said the words, Matthias wasn’t sure he believed them. Jarl Brum and his officers had done worse without a twinge of conscience.
“Big, blond, and blind,” Jesper said. “The Fjerdan way.”
He died in my stead , Matthias thought. And I didn’t even recognize his name.
“Did Muzzen have family?” Matthias asked at last.
“Just the Dregs,” said Kaz.
“No mourners,” Nina murmured.
“No funerals,” Matthias replied quietly.
“How does it feel to be dead?” asked Jesper. The merry light had gone from his eyes.
Matthias had no answer. The knife that had killed Muzzen had been meant for Matthias, and the Fjerdans might well be responsible. The drüskelle. His brothers. They’d wanted him to die without honor, murdered in an infirmary bed. It was a death fit for a traitor. It was the death he had earned. Now Matthias owed Muzzen a blood debt, but how would he ever pay it? “What will they do with his body?” he asked.
“It’s probably already ashes on the Reaper’s Barge,” said Kaz.
“There’s something else,” said Rotty. “Someone’s kicking up dust looking for Jesper.”
“His creditors will have to wait,” said Kaz, and Jesper winced.
“No,” Rotty said with a shake of his head. “A man showed up at the university. Jesper, he claims he’s your father.”
I nej lay on her belly, arms extended in front of her, wriggling like a worm through the dark. Despite the fact that she’d been as good as starving herself, the vent was still a tight fit. She couldn’t see where she was going; she just kept moving forward, pulling herself along by her fingertips.
She’d woken sometime after the fight on Vellgeluk, with no sense of how long she’d been unconscious and no idea where she was. She remembered plummeting from a great height