𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 | 𝑘.𝑏.

10

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S I X  S I N N E R S  A N D  O N E  Z E A L O T
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MATTHIAS TOOK INVENTORY OF THE sinners observing him.

There was Kaz Brekker, a monster of a boy who had spent too long in the dark although he couldn't have been much older than Matthias himself; Inej, the silent bronze girl who preferred to stand closer to the shadows; Jesper, the long-limbed boy from the boat, sitting in a corner with his bony knees drawn up; Wylan, who doodled aimlessly on a scrap of paper whilst intentionally not looking at Matthias; Feta, a girl with an innocent face and a Fjerdan accent that did nothing but make Matthias suspicious; and Nina.

He could feel Nina watching him from the other side of the room, could smell her rose perfume, could practically taste it. He looked at the black and crimson gambling parlor, the table cloth flocked with a repeating pattern of crows, the intricate tattoo of what seemed to be the sea whip that haunts the Bone Road wrapped around the wrist of the too-innocent blonde girl, who was lazily turning a clacking wheel similar to the one used in the Hellshow arena, though it had different markings and had been propped against a black lacquered wall — anywhere but Nina.

It was wretched enough he could feel that some of his aching had been alleviated — better clean pain than Grisha corruption. To know she was watching him, to know she was responsible for him being in chains once more though in a considerably stranger crowd was almost too much.

And now he had to listen to Kaz Brekker pitch sin in a strange form: a drug called jurda parem, an impossibly high reward, breaking into the Ice Court. Treason.

When Brekker had finally fallen silent, crawling gaze piercing Matthias, Matthias simply said, "No."

"Called it," the blonde girl said.

Kaz cast her a glare from the corner of his eye before looking to Matthias once again. "Believe me when I say this, Helvar: I know getting knocked out and waking up in strange surroundings isn't the friendliest way to start a partnership, but you didn't give us many options, so try to open your mind to the possibilities."

"You could have come to me on your knees, and my answer would be the same."

"You do understand I can have you back at Hellgate in a matter of hours? Once poor Muzzen is in the infirmary, the switch will be easy."

"Do it. I can't wait to tell the warden your ridiculous plans."

"What makes you think you'll be going back with a tongue?"

"Kaz—" Nina protested. Feta lifted her gaze from the Makker's Wheel, bemused smirk on her lips. Leave it to Kaz to escalate things.

Matthias settled back in his seat. "Do what you want," he seethed at Kaz. Feta swore she saw Kaz's eye twitch.

"I told you so," Nina sighed.

"Don't pretend to know me, witch," Matthias snarled, though his eyes remained on Kaz. The memory of Matthias on top of Nina, Nina's face red and afraid, flashed in Feta's head and she had to force herself to take a steadying breath.

Jesper unfolded himself from the corner. During Kaz's pitch, his eyes had been locked on the wheel as Feta spun it mindlessly, his lips muttering predications, placing bets, still. "Without him there's no job. We can't break into the Ice Court blind."

Matthias' lip curled. "You can't break into the Ice Court at all." Feta could sense his pride and faintly wondered if this was what she was missing. She bore prominent, traditional Fjerdan characteristics in her appearance and carried at least a semblance of faith for their holy one, but that was a far cry from Fjerda claiming her. Feta's childhood in that frigid country consisted of hiding in the shadows and constantly checking over her shoulder, her parents forcing her head down — might she have treasured druskelle ceremonies and bragged of the impenetrability of the Ice Court, revered the King and Queen and devoted herself to Djel, had she been born as someone Fjerda loved? Might she have had a home country to be proud of had she been raised to be quieter, more modest, nastier, dull?