Six of Crows (Six of Crows #1) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,3
as the Fabrikator, the Council will compensate me? I can’t be asked to bear that expense.”
When the merchant nodded, Hoede signaled to the captain. “Proceed.”
The same results as the Fabrikator. Retvenko claimed Yuri had vanished. Was that what he’d meant?
“Sergeant,” said the captain, “are you ready?”
The guard inside the cell replied, “Yes, sir.” He drew a knife.
Joost swallowed hard.
“First test,” said the captain.
The guard bent forward and told the boy to roll up his sleeve. The boy obeyed and stuck out his arm, popping the thumb of his other hand into his mouth. Too old for that, thought Joost. But the boy must be very scared. Joost had slept with a sock bear until he was nearly fourteen, a fact his older brothers had mocked mercilessly.
“This will sting just a bit,” said the guard.
The boy kept his thumb in his mouth and nodded, eyes round.
“This really isn’t necessary—” said Anya.
“Quiet, please,” said Hoede.
The guard gave the boy a pat then slashed a bright red cut across his forearm. The boy started crying immediately.
Anya tried to rise from her chair, but the guard placed a stern hand on her shoulder.
“It’s all right, sergeant,” said Hoede. “Let her heal him.”
Anya leaned forward, taking the boy’s hand gently. “Shhhh,” she said softly. “Let me help.”
“Will it hurt?” the boy gulped.
She smiled. “Not at all. Just a little itch. Try to hold still for me?”
Joost found himself leaning closer. He’d never actually seen Anya heal someone.
Anya removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped away the excess blood. Then her fingers brushed carefully over the boy’s wound. Joost watched in astonishment as the skin slowly seemed to re-form and knit together.
A few minutes later, the boy grinned and held out his arm. It looked a bit red, but was otherwise smooth and unmarked. “Was that magic?”
Anya tapped him on the nose. “Of a sort. The same magic your own body works when given time and a bit of bandage.”
The boy looked almost disappointed.
“Good, good,” Hoede said impatiently. “Now the parem.”
Joost frowned. He’d never heard that word.
The captain signaled to his sergeant. “Second sequence.”
“Put out your arm,” the sergeant said to the boy once again.
The boy shook his head. “I don’t like that part.”
“Do it.”
The boy’s lower lip quivered, but he put out his arm. The guard cut him once more. Then he placed a small wax paper envelope on the table in front of Anya.
“Swallow the contents of the packet,” Hoede instructed Anya.
“What is it?” she asked, voice trembling.
“That isn’t your concern.”
“What is it?” she repeated.
“It’s not going to kill you. We’re going to ask you to perform some simple tasks to judge the drug’s effects. The sergeant is there to make sure you do only what you’re told and no more, understood?”
Her jaw set, but she nodded.
“No one will harm you,” said Hoede. “But remember, if you hurt the sergeant, you have no way out of that cell. The doors are locked from the outside.”
“What is that stuff?” whispered Joost.
“Don’t know,” said Rutger.
“What do you know?” he muttered.
“Enough to keep my trap shut.”
Joost scowled.
With shaking hands, Anya lifted the little wax envelope and opened the flap.
“Go on,” said Hoede.
She tipped her head back and swallowed the powder. For a moment she sat, waiting, lips pressed together.
“Is it just jurda?” she asked hopefully. Joost found himself hoping, too. Jurda was nothing to fear, a stimulant everyone in the stadwatch chewed to stay awake on late watches.
“What does it taste like?” Hoede asked.
“Like jurda but sweeter, it—”
Anya inhaled sharply. Her hands seized the table, her pupils dilating enough that her eyes looked nearly black. “Ohhh,” she said, sighing. It was nearly a purr.
The guard tightened his grip on her shoulder.
“How do you feel?”
She stared at the mirror and smiled. Her tongue peeked through her white teeth, stained like rust. Joost felt suddenly cold.
“Just as it was with the Fabrikator,” murmured the merchant.
“Heal the boy,” Hoede commanded.
She waved her hand through the air, the gesture almost dismissive, and the cut on the boy’s arm sealed instantly. The blood lifted briefly from his skin in droplets of red then vanished. His skin looked perfectly smooth, all trace of blood or redness gone. The boy beamed. “That was definitely magic.”
“It feels like magic,” Anya said with that same eerie smile.
“She didn’t touch him,” marveled the captain.
“Anya,” said Hoede. “Listen closely. We’re going to tell the guard to perform the next test now.”
“Mmm,” hummed Anya.
“Sergeant,” said Hoede. “Cut off the boy’s thumb.”