Read Online Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo - Free Book Online Page A

mouth, letting her mind turn to prayer as her Saints gathered around her. She imagined them checking the ropes at her wrists, rubbing life into her hands. She did not tell herself she wasn’t afraid. Long ago, after a bad fall, her father had explained that only fools were fearless. We meet fear , he’d said. We greet the unexpected visitor and listen to what he has to tell us. When fear arrives, something is about to happen.
    Inej intended to make something happen. She’d ignored the ache in her head and forced herself to inch around the room, estimating its dimensions. Then she’d used the wall to push to her feet and felt along it, shuffling and hopping, searching for any doors or windows. When she’d heard footsteps approaching, she’d dropped to the ground, but she hadn’t had time to get her blindfold back in place. From then on, the guards tied it tighter. But that didn’t matter, because she’d found the vent. All she needed then was a way out of her ropes. Kaz could have managed it in the dark and probably underwater.
    The only thorough look she got at the room where she was being held was during meals, when they brought in a lantern. She’d hear keys turning in a series of locks, the door swinging open, the sound of the tray being placed on the table. A moment later, the blindfold would be gently lifted from her face—Bajan was never rough or abrupt. It wasn’t in his nature. In fact, she suspected it was beyond the capabilities of his manicured musician’s hands.
    There was never any cutlery on the tray, of course. Van Eck was wise enough not to trust her with so much as a spoon, but Inej had taken advantage of each unblindfolded moment to study every inch of the barren room, seeking clues that might help her to assess her location and plan her escape. There wasn’t much to go on—a concrete floor marked by nothing but the pile of blankets she’d been given to burrow into at night, walls lined with empty shelves, the table and chair where she took her meals. There were no windows, and the only hint that they might still be near Ketterdam was the damp trace of salt in the air.
    Bajan would untie her wrists, then bind them again in front of her so that she could eat—though once she’d discovered the vent, she’d only picked at her food, eating enough to keep up her strength and nothing more. Still, when Bajan and the guards had brought her tray tonight, her stomach had growled audibly at the smell of soft sausages and porridge. She’d been woozy with hunger, and when she’d tried to sit down, she’d tipped the tray from its perch on the table, smashing the white ceramic mug and bowl. Her dinner slopped to the floor in a steaming heap of savory mush and broken crockery and she’d landed ungracefully next to it, barely avoiding a face full of porridge.
    Bajan had shaken his dark, silky head. “You are weak because you don’t eat. Mister Van Eck says I must force-feed you if necessary.”
    â€œTry,” she’d said, looking up at him from the floor and baring her teeth. “You’ll have trouble teaching piano without all your fingers.”
    But Bajan had only laughed, white grin flashing. He and one of the guards had helped her back into the chair, and he’d sent for another tray.
    Van Eck could not have chosen her jailer better. Bajan was Suli, only a few years older than Inej, with thick black hair that curled around his collar and black gem eyes framed by lashes long enough to swat flies. He told her he was a music teacher indentured to Van Eck, and Inej wondered that the merch would bring a boy like that into his household given that his new wife was less than half his own age. Van Eck was either very confident or very stupid. He double-crossed Kaz , she reminded herself. He’s leaning heavily into the stupid column.
    Once the mess had been cleaned up—by a guard; Bajan didn’t stoop