CHAPTER THIRTEEN
vol i — bloody fjerdans!

"GET US OUT OF HERE," KAZ SHOUTED AS he limped aboard the Schooner with Dinara in his arms. They were due to break away form the harbor any minute now, though nearly not as fast as he would have liked. The deck was in complete chaos, people shouting and trying to get the Schooner into the open seas as quickly as possible. "Specht!" he yelled at the man he had chosen to captain the vessel. "Get your crew in shape before I start cracking skulls." Specht saluted — then seemed to catch himself. The pain in Kaz's leg was terrible, the worst it had been since he'd first broken it falling off a roof of a bank near the Geldstraat. Dinara's weight wasn't helping, yet he brushed past Jesper when he offered to help. "Where's Nina?" Kaz snarled.

"Seeing to the wounded below. She already took care of me." Dimly Kaz registered the dried blood on Jesper's thigh. "Wylan got dinged during the fight. Inej had a stab wound on her side. Let me help you—"

"Get out of my way," Kaz said, and plunged past him down the ramp that led belowdecks. He found Nina tending to Wylan in a narrow cabin, her hands drifting over his arm, knitting the flesh of the bullet wound together — it was barely a graze. Inej sat in the corner, her hands nimbly wrapping a cotton rag around her middle. "Move," Kaz demanded, and Wylan practically lept from the table.

I'm not finished—" began Nina. then she caught sight of Dinara. "Saints," she swore. "What happened?"

"Knife wound." The cramped cabin was lit by several bright lanterns and a stash of clean bandages had been laid out in a shelf beside a bottle of Camphor. Gently, Kaz placed Dinara on the table that had been bolted to the deck.

"That's a lot of blood."
"Help her."
"Kaz, I'm a Heartrender, not a real healer.".
"She'll be dead by the time we find one. Get to work."

"You're in my light." Kaz stepped back into the passageway. Dinara lay perfectly stil on the table, her pale skin somehow seeming lighter, swaying in the lamplight. He was alive because of her, everyone was. they'd managed to fight their way out of a corner, but only because she'd prevented them from being surrounded. Kaz knew death. He could feel its presence on the ship now, looming over them, ready to take his shadow. Kaz stood paralyzed, covered in her blood, unable to tear his eyes away from her body. "Unless you can be useful, go away," Nina said without looking up at him. "You're making me nervous."

He hesitated, then stomped back the way he'd come, stopping to purloin a clean shirt from another cabin. He shouldn't be this shaken up by a dock brawl, even a shoot-out, but he was. He felt like his insides were being ripped out and stomped on, yet he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was the sight of Dinara bleeding out in his arms, or just the fact that she could never wake up and he would have to live without her. It brought back all the memories of Jordie, ones he worked so hard to get rid of. On deck, he took a deep breath of sea air, watching the harbor and Ketterdam fade far from view.

"What the hell just happened?" Jesper asked. he was leaning against the railing, rifle beside him. his hair was mussed, pupils dilated. He almost seemed drunk, while Matthias was vomiting his last meal over the railing.

"We were ambushed," Wylan said from his perch on the forecastle deck. He had his sleeve pushed up and was running his fingers over the red spot where Nina had seen to his wound.

Jesper shot Wylan a withering glare. "Private tutors from the university, and that's what this kid comes up with? 'We were ambushed'?"

Wylan reddened. "Stop calling me kid. We're practically the same age."

"You're not going to like the other names I come up with for you. I know we were ambushed that doesn't explain how they knew we would be there. Maybe Big Bolliger wasn't the only Black Tip spy in the dregs."

"Geels doesn't have the brains of the resources to bite back this fast or hard alone."
"You sure? Because it felt like a pretty big bite."

"Let's ask." Kaz limped over to where Rotty had stashed Oomen. I stuck your Shadow, Oomen had giggled when Kaz had spotted him curled up on the ground. I stuck her good. Kaz had glanced at the way he was holding himself between the legs and said looks like she got you, too. He knew that if she had wanted to kill him, she would have. He'd knocked the enforcer out and had Rotty retrieve him while he went to find Dinara. now Helvar and Jesper dragged Oomen over to the rail, his hands bound."Stand him up." With one huge hand, Helvar hauled Oomen to his feet. Oomen grinned, his thatch of coarse white hair flat against his wide forehead. "Why don't you tell me what brought so many Black Tips out in force tonight?" Kaz asked.

"We owed you."
"A public brawl with guns out and thirty men packing? I don't think so."
"Geels doesn't like being bested."
"I could fit Geels' brains in the toe of mg boot, and Big Bolliger was his only source inside the Dregs."
"Maybe he—"

Kaz interrupted him. "I want you to think real careful now, Oomen. Geels probably thinks you're dead, so there are no rules of barter here. I can do what I want with you." Oomen spat in his face. The wrong move. Kaz took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and carefully wiped his face clean. He thought of Dinara lying still on the table, her slight weight in his arms. It was a haunting memory, burning into his brain. "Hold him," he told Jesper and the Fjerdan.

Kaz flicked his coat sleeve, and an oyster shucking knife appeared in his hand. At any given time he had at least two knives stashed somewhere in his clothes. He didn't even count this one, really — a tidy, wicked little blade. He made a beat slash across oomen's eye — from brow to cheekbone — and before Oomen could draw breath to cry out, he made a second in in the opposite direction, a nearly perfect X. Now Oomen was screaming. Kaz wiped the knife clean, returned it to his sleeve, and drove his gloved fingers into Oomen's eye socket. He shrieked and twitched as Kaz yanked out his eyeball, it's base trailing a bloody root.

Blood gushed over his face. Kaz heard Wylan retching — yet he didn't bring himself to care. This was payback for possibly killing his Shadow. He tossed the eyeball overboard and jammed his spit-soaked handkerchief into the socket where Oomen's eye had been. Then he grabbed oomen's jaw, his gloves leaving red smears on the enforcer's chin. His actions were smooth, precise, as if he were dealing cards at the Crow Club or picking an easy lock, but his rage felt hot and mad and unfamiliar.

Something within him had torn loose. "Listen to me," he hissed, his face inches from Oomen's. "You have two choices. You tell me what I want to know, and we drop you at the next port with your pockets full of enough coins to get you sewn up and buy you passage back to kerch. Or I take the other eye, and repeat this conversation with a blind man."

"It was just a job," babbled Oomen. "Geels got five thousand kruge to bring the Black Tips out in force. We pulled in some Razorgulls, too?"

"Then why it more men? Why not double your odds?"

"You were supposed to be on the boat when it blew! We were just supposed to take care of the stragglers."

"Who hired you?" Oomen wavered, sucking on his lip, snot running from his nose. Kaz was losing his temper, every bone in his body was fighting against his instant to throw the man overboard. "Don't make me ask again, Oomen," Kaz said quietly. "Whoever it was can't protect you now."

"He'll kill me."
"And I'll make you with for death, so you have to weigh those options."

"Pekka Rollins," Oomen sobbed. "It was Pekka Rollins!" Even through his own shock, Kaz registered the effect of the name on Jesper and Wylan. Helvar didn't know enough to be intimidated.

"Saints. We are so screwed."
"Is Pekka Rollins leading the crew himself?"
"What crew"
"To Fjerda."
"I don't know about no crew. We were just supposed to stop you from getting out of the harbor."
"I see."
"I need a Medik. Can you tell me to a Medik now?"

"Of course," said Kaz. "Right this way." He took Oomen by the lapels and hoisted him off his feet, bracing his body against the railing.

"I told you what you wanted!" Oomen screamed, struggling. "I did what you asked!"

Kaz leaned in do that no one else could hear it when he said, "My Shadow would try to do this herself. But thanks to you, she's not here to do it." Without another word, he tipped Oomen into the sea.

"No!" Wylan shouted, leaning over the railing, his face pale, stunned eyes tracking Oomen in the waves. His pleas still audible as his face faded from view. "You... you said if he helped you—"

"Do you want to go over too?"
"You won't throw me overboard. You need me."
"Maybe. But I'm not in a very rational mood."
"Let it go."
"It's not right—"

"Wylan," Jesper said, giving him a little shake. "Maybe your tutors didn't cover this lesson, but you do not argue with a man covered in blood and a knife up his sleeve." Wylan pressed his lips into a thin line. Kaz couldn't tell if the kid was frightened or furious, and hume didn't much care. Helvar stood silent sentinel, observing it all, looking seasick green beneath his blond beard.

Kaz turned to Jesper. "Fit Helvar with some shackles to keep him honest," he said as he headed below. "And get me clean clothes and fresh water."

"Since when am I your valet?"
"Man with a knife, remember?"
"Man with a gun!"

Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger and disappeared belowdecks. He wanted a hot bath and a bottle of brandy, but he'd settle for being alone and free of the stink of blood for a while. Pekka Rollins. The name rattled through his head like gunfire but always come back to Pekka Rollins, the man who had taken everything from him. The man who stood between Kaz and the biggest haul any crew had ever attempted. Would Rollins send someone in his place or lead the crew to nab Bo Yul-Bayur himself? In the dim confines of his cabin, Kaz whispered, "Brick by brick." Killing Pekka Rollins had always been tempting but it wasn't enough. Kaz wanted Rollins brought low. He wanted him to suffer the way Kaz had, the way Jordie had. And snatching thirty million kruge right out of Pekka Rollins' grubby hands was a very good way to start. maybe Dinara was right — if he wanted something done, he had to do it himself, and that's what he planned to do.

revengeful kaz!