Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,23

be unoccupied. Saints, what if she was in Van Eck’s mansion? What if she was about to land on a sleeping merch? She listened for some human sound—snores, deep breathing. Nothing.

She wished for her knives, for the comforting weight of them in her palms. Did Van Eck still have them in his possession? Had he sold them off? Tossed them into the sea? She named the blades anyway—Petyr, Marya, Anastasia, Lizabeta, Sankt Vladimir, Sankta Alina —and found courage in each whispered word. Then she jiggled the vent and gave it a hard shove. It flew open, but instead of swinging on its hinges, it came completely loose. She tried to grab it, but it slid past her fingertips and clattered to the floor.

Inej waited, heart pounding. A minute passed in silence. Another. No one came. The room was empty. Maybe the whole building was empty. Van Eck wouldn’t have left her unguarded, so his men must be stationed outside. If that was the case, she knew slipping past them would present little challenge. And at least now she knew roughly how far away the floor was.

There was no graceful way to accomplish what came next. She slid down headfirst, gripping the wall. Then, when she was more than halfway out and her body began to tip, she let momentum carry her forward, curling into a ball and tucking her arms over her head to protect her skull and neck as she fell.

The impact was fairly painless. The floor was hard concrete like the floor of her cell, but she rolled as she struck and came up against what seemed to be the back of something solid. She pulled herself to her feet, hands exploring whatever she’d banged into. It was upholstered in velvet. As she moved along, she felt another identical object next to it. Seats , she realized. I’m in a theater.

There were plenty of music halls and theaters in the Barrel. Could she be so close to home? Or maybe in one of the respectable opera houses of the Lid?

She moved slowly, hands out before her until she reached a wall at what she thought was the back of the theater. She groped along it, seeking a door, a window, even another vent. Finally, her fingers hooked over a door frame and her hands wrapped around the knob. It wouldn’t budge. Locked. She gave it a tentative rattle.

The room flooded with light. Inej shrank back against the door, squinting in the sudden brightness.

“If you wanted a tour, Miss Ghafa, you might simply have asked,” said Jan Van Eck.

He stood on the stage of the decrepit theater, his black mercher’s suit cut in severe lines. The theater’s green velvet seats were moth-eaten. The curtains bracketing the stage hung in shreds. No one had bothered to take down the set from the last play. It looked like a child’s terrified vision of a surgeon’s operating room, oversized saws and mallets hanging from the walls. Inej recognized it as the set for The Madman and the Doctor , one of the short plays from the Komedie Brute.

Guards were stationed around the room, and Bajan stood beside Van Eck, wringing his elegant hands. Had the vent been left open to tempt her? Had Van Eck been toying with her all along?

“Bring her here,” Van Eck told the guards.

Inej didn’t hesitate. She sprang onto the narrow back of the nearest theater seat, then raced toward the stage, leaping from row to row as the guards tried to scramble over the seats. She vaulted onto the stage, past a startled Van Eck, neatly skirting two more guards, and seized one of the stage ropes, shinnying up its length, praying it would hold her weight until she made it to the top. She could hide in the rafters, find a way to the roof.

“Cut her down!” Van Eck called, his voice calm.

Inej climbed higher, faster. But seconds later she saw a face above her. One of Van Eck’s guards, a knife in his hand. He slashed through the rope.

It gave way and Inej fell to the floor, softening her knees to take the impact. Before she could right herself, three guards were on her, holding her in place.

“Really, Miss Ghafa,” Van Eck chided. “We’re well aware of your gifts. Did you think I wouldn’t take precautions?” He did not wait for an answer. “You are not going to find your way out of this without my help or Mister Brekker’s. As he does not seem