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Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE.

Topics of Interest: fantasy, survival, adventure, identity, revenge, magic, romance

Curriculum Connections: English

Gender: M/F

Age: 14+

Blurb: People always think that it’s cool when they find out I lived in Los Angeles. Not so, I would argue. Sure, LA has its good points, and the weather is pretty awesome, but it certainly has a roughness to it that can’t be glamourized. It’s smoggy, crowded, and the ocean is brown…not turquoise like one would think. And don’t get me started on the gangs.

Kaz Brekker, in Six of Crows, is the mastermind of the Dreggs, one of the gangs controlling money flow in Ketterdam. And as far as bad-asses go, he the baddest ass there is. Kaz is fearless, untouchable, and bent on revenge over his brother’s death.

Ketterdam is overrun with thieves and street-thugs, and Kaz bests them all—which is exactly why he is approached with an offer he can’t refuse. In exchange for more money than one could dream of, Kaz accepts an impossible task: he and his gang will penetrate the Ice Court—a fortress built to withstand combat, spies, and magic—and kidnap the one man who could destroy the future.

Six teenage criminals: one deadly heist.

Nothing is impossible.


 

Flavour: “’I’d need to convince a team to walk into a suicide mission,’ [said Kaz]. ‘That won’t come cheap.’ …. ‘Twenty million kruge is hardly cheap,’ Van Eck snapped.

‘The Ice Court has never been breached.’

‘That’s why I need you, Mister Brekker.’” (50)

 

The Ice Court had been built to withstand an onslaught of armies, assassins, Grisha, and spies. When she’s said as much to Kaz, he’d simply replied, ‘But it hasn’t been built to keep us out.’

His confidence unnerved her. ‘What makes you think we can do this? There will be other teams out there, trained soldiers and spies, people with years of experience.’

‘This isn’t a job for trained soldiers and spies. It’s a job for thugs and thieves.’” (134)

 

“Where the hell is Kaz? Jesper bounced from foot to foot in front of the incinerator, the dim clang of alarm bells filling his ears, rattling his thoughts. Yellow Protocol? Red Protocol? He couldn’t remember which was which. Their whole plan had been built around never hearing the sound of an alarm.” (321)

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