Six of Crows (Six of Crows #1) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,67

of it sloshed down her blouse. The Fjerdan turned away, and with pleasure, Nina saw she’d embarrassed him.

“I’d kill for a bath,” she taunted. “You could wash me.”

“Don’t talk to me,” he growled, already stalking toward the door.

He hadn’t returned, and they’d gone without fresh water for the next three days. But when the storm hit, that tin cup had saved her life.

* * *

Nina’s chin dipped, and she jerked awake. Had she nodded off?

Matthias was standing in the passage outside the cabin. He filled the doorway, far too tall to be comfortable belowdecks. How long had he been watching her? Quickly, Nina checked Inej’s pulse and breathing, relieved to find that she seemed to be stable for now.

“Was I sleeping?” she asked.

“Dozing.”

She stretched, trying to blink away her exhaustion. “But not snoring?” He said nothing, just watched her with those ice-chip eyes. “They let you have a razor?”

His shackled hands went to his freshly shaved jaw. “Jesper did it.” Jesper must have seen to Matthias’ hair, too. The tufts of blond that had grown raggedly from his scalp had been trimmed down. It was still too short, bare golden fuzz over skin that showed cuts and bruises from his last fight in Hellgate.

He must be happy to be free of the beard, though, Nina thought. Until a drüskelle had accomplished a mission on his own and been granted officer status, he was required to remain clean-shaven. If Matthias had brought Nina to face trial at the Ice Court, he would have been granted that permission. He would have worn the silver wolf’s head that marked an officer of the drüskelle. It made her sick to think of it. Congratulations on your recent advancement to murderer of rank. The thought helped remind her just who she was dealing with. She sat up straighter, chin lifting.

“Hje marden, Matthias?” she asked.

“Don’t,” he said.

“You’d prefer I spoke Kerch?”

“I don’t want to hear my language from your mouth.” His eyes flicked to her lips, and she felt an unwelcome flush.

With vindictive pleasure, she said in Fjerdan, “But you always liked the way I spoke your tongue. You said it sounded pure.” It was true. He’d loved her accent—the vowels of a princess, courtesy of her teachers at the Little Palace.

“Don’t press me, Nina,” he said. Matthias’ Kerch was ugly, brutal, the guttural accent of thieves and murderers that he’d met in prison. “That pardon is a dream that’s hard to hold on to. The memory of your pulse fading beneath my fingers is far easier to bring to mind.”

“Try me,” she said, her anger flaring. She was sick of his threats. “My hands aren’t pinned now, Helvar.” She curled her fingertips, and Matthias gasped as his heart began to race.

“Witch,” he spat, clutching his chest.

“Surely you can do better than that. You must have a hundred names for me by now.”

“A thousand,” he grunted as sweat broke out on his brow.

She relaxed her fingers, feeling suddenly embarrassed. What was she doing? Punishing him? Toying with him? He had every right to hate her.

“Go away, Matthias. I have a patient to see to.” She focused on checking Inej’s body temperature.

“Will she live?”

“Do you care?”

“Of course I care. She’s a human being.”

She heard the unspoken end to that sentence. She’s a human being—unlike you. The Fjerdans didn’t believe the Grisha were human. They weren’t even on par with animals, but something low and demonic, a blight on the world, an abomination.

She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, really. I did my best, but my gifts lie elsewhere.”

“Kaz asked you if the White Rose would send a delegation to Hringkälla.”

“You know the White Rose?”

“West Stave is a favorite subject of conversation in Hellgate.”

Nina paused. Then, without saying a word, she pushed up the sleeve of her shirt. Two roses intertwined on the inside of her forearm. She could have explained what she’d done there, that she’d never made her living on her back, but it was none of his business what she did or didn’t do. Let him believe what he liked.

“You chose to work there?”

“Chose is a bit of a stretch, but yes.”

“Why? Why would you remain in Kerch?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I couldn’t leave you in Hellgate.”

“You put me in Hellgate.”

“It was a mistake, Matthias.”

Rage ignited in his eyes, the calm veneer dropping away. “A mistake? I saved your life, and you accused me of being a slaver.”

“Yes,” Nina said. “And I’ve spent most of this last year trying to find