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.
Inej had secured a rope to the roof and dropped down a line for them to climb. Jesper had sent the rest of the rope up with Wylan and Matthias, along with a pair of shears he’d located in the laundry, and a crude grappling hook he’d fashioned from the metal slats of a washboard. Then he’d cleaned the spatter of rain and moisture from the floor of the refuse room, and made sure there were no scraps of rope or other signs of their presence. There was nothing left to do but wait – and panic when the alarm started to ring.
He heard people shouting to each other, a hail of stomping boots through the ceiling above. Any minute, some intuitive guards might venture down to the basement. If they found Jesper by the incinerator, the route to the roof would be obvious. He’d be damning not only himself but the others as well.
Come on, Kaz. I’m waiting on you. They all were. Nina had come charging into the room only minutes before, gasping for breath.
“Go!” she’d cried. “What are you waiting for?”
“You!” Jesper shot back. But when he asked her where Kaz was, Nina’s face had crumpled.
“I hoped he was with you.”
She’d vanished up the rope, grunting with effort, leaving Jesper standing below, frozen with indecision. Had the guards captured Kaz? Was he somewhere in the prison fighting for his life?
He’s Kaz Brekker. Even if they locked him up, Kaz could escape any cell, any pair of shackles. Jesper could leave the rope for him, pray the rain and the cooling incinerator was enough to keep the bottom of it from burning away. But if he just kept standing here like a podge, he’d give away their escape route, and they’d all be doomed. There was nothing to do but climb.
Jesper grabbed the rope just as Kaz hurtled through the door. His shirt was covered in blood, his dark hair a wild mess.
“Hurry,” he said without preamble.
A thousand questions crowded into Jesper’s head, but he didn’t stop to ask them. He swung out over the coals and started to climb. Rain was still falling in a light patter from above, and he felt the rope tremble as Kaz took hold beneath him. When Jesper looked down, he saw Kaz bracing himself to sling the incinerator doors closed behind them.
Jesper put hand over hand, pulling himself up from knot to knot, his arms beginning to ache, the rope cutting into his palms, bracing his feet against the wall of the incinerator when he needed to, then recoiling at the heat of the bricks. How had Inej made this climb with nothing to hold on to?
High above, the Elderclock’s alarm bells still clanged like a drawer full of angry pots and pans. What had gone wrong? Why had Kaz and Nina been separated? And how were they going to get out of this?
Jesper shook his head, trying to blink the rain from his eyes, muscles bunching in his back as he rose higher.
“Thank the Saints,” he gasped when Matthias and Wylan grabbed his shoulders and hauled him up the last few feet. He tumbled over the lip of the chimney and onto the roof, drenched and trembling like a half-drowned kitten. “Kaz is on the rope.”
Matthias and Wylan seized the rope to pull him up. Jesper wasn’t sure how much Wylan was actually helping, but he was certainly working
hard. They dragged Kaz out of the shaft. He flopped onto his back, gulping air. “Where’s Inej?” he gasped. “Where’s Nina?”
“Already on the embassy roof,” said Matthias.
“Leave this rope and take the rest,” Kaz said. “Let’s move.”
Matthias and Wylan tossed the incinerator rope into a grimy heap and grabbed two clean coils. Jesper took one and forced himself to his feet. He followed Kaz to the lip of the roof where Inej had secured a tether that ran from the top of the prison to the embassy sector roof below. Someone had rigged up a sling for those without the Wraith’s particular gift for flouting gravity.
“Thank the Saints, Djel, and your Aunt Eva,” Jesper said gratefully, and slid down the rope, followed by the others.
The roof of the embassy was curved, probably to keep the snow off, but it was a bit like walking on the humped back of an enormous whale. It was also decidedly more … porous than the prison roof. It was pocked with multiple points of entry – vents, chimneys, small glass domes designed to let in the light. Nina and Inej were tucked up against the base of the biggest dome, a filigreed skylight that overlooked the embassy’s entry rotunda. It didn’t offer much shelter from the dwindling rain, but should any of the guards on the ringwall turn their attention away from the approach road and onto the rooftops of the Court, the crew would be hidden from view.
Nina had Inej’s feet in her lap.
“I can’t get all the rubber off her heels,” she said, as she saw them approaching.
“Help her,” said Kaz.
“Me?” Jesper said. “You don’t mean—” “Do it.”
Jesper crawled over to get a better look at Inej’s blistered feet, keenly aware of Kaz tracking his movements. Kaz’s reaction the last time Inej was injured had been more than a little disturbing, though this wasn’t nearly as bad as a stab wound – and this time Kaz didn’t have the Black Tips to blame. Jesper focused on the particles of rubber, trying to draw them away from Inej’s flesh the same way he’d extracted ore from the prison bars.
Inej knew his secret, but Nina was gaping at him. “You’re a Fabrikator?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked?” he said lamely. “Jesper—”
“Just leave it alone, Nina.” She pressed her lips together, but he knew this wasn’t the last he’d hear of it. He made himself refocus on Inej’s feet. “Saints,” he said.
Inej grimaced. “That bad?”
“No, you just have really ugly feet.” “Ugly feet that got you on this roof.”
“But are we stuck here?” asked Nina. The Elderclock ceased its ringing, and in the silence that followed, she shut her eyes in relief. “Finally.”
“What happened at the prison?” Wylan said, that panicked crackle back in his voice. “What triggered the alarm?”
“I ran into two guards,” said Nina.
Jesper glanced up from his work. “You didn’t put them down?”
“I did. But one of them got off a few shots. Another guard came running. That was when the bells started.”
“Damn. So that’s what set off the alarm?”
“Maybe,” said Nina. “Where were you, Kaz? I wouldn’t have been in the stairwell if I hadn’t wasted time looking for you. Why didn’t you meet me on the landing?”
Kaz was peering down through the glass of the dome. “I decided to search the cells on the fifth floor, too.”
They all stared at him. Jesper felt his temper beginning to fray.
“What the hell is this?” he said. “You take off before Matthias and I get back, then you just decide to expand your search and leave Nina thinking you’re in trouble?”
“There was something I needed to take care of.” “Not good enough.”
“I had a hunch,” Kaz said. “I followed it.”
Nina’s expression was pure disbelief. “A hunch?” “I made a mistake,” growled Kaz. “All right?”
“No,” said Inej calmly. “You owe us an explanation.”
After a moment, Kaz said, “I went looking for Pekka Rollins.” A look passed between Kaz and Inej that Jesper didn’t understand; there was knowledge in it that he’d been locked out of.
“For Saints’ sake, why?” asked Nina.
“I wanted to know who in the Dregs leaked information to him.” Jesper waited. “And?”
“I couldn’t find him.”
“What about the blood on your shirt?” Matthias asked. “Run in with a guard.”
Jesper didn’t believe it.
Kaz ran a hand over his eyes. “I screwed up. I made a bad call, and I deserve the blame for it. But that doesn’t change our situation.”
“What is our situation?” Nina asked Matthias. “What will they do now?”
“The alarm was Yellow Protocol, a sector disturbance.”
Jesper pushed at his temples. “I don’t remember what that means.” “My guess is that they think someone’s attempting a prison break.
That sector is already sealed off from the rest of the Ice Court, so they’ll authorise a search, probably try to figure out who’s missing from the cells.”
“They’ll find the people we knocked out in the women’s and men’s holding areas,” said Wylan. “We need to get out of here. Forget Bo Yul-Bayur.”
Matthias cut a dismissive hand through the air. “It’s too late. If the guards think there’s a prison break in progress, the checkpoints will be on high alert. They’re not going to let anyone just walk through.”
“We could still try,” said Jesper. “We get Inej’s feet patched up—” She flexed them, then stood, testing her bare soles on the gravel.
“They feel all right. My calluses are gone, though.”
“I’ll give you an address where you can mail your complaints,” Nina said with a wink.
“Okay, the Wraith is ambulatory,” Jesper said, rubbing a sleeve over his damp face. The rain had faded away to a light mist. “We find a cosy room to bash some partygoers on the head and waltz out of this place decked in their finest.”
“Past the embassy gate and two checkpoints?” Matthias said skeptically.
“They don’t know anyone escaped the prison sector. They saw Nina and Kaz so they know people are out of their cells, but the guards at the checkpoints are going to be looking for hoodlums in prison clothes, not sweet-smelling diplos in fancy dress. We have to do this before they get wise to the fact that six people are on the loose in the outer circle.”
“Forget it,” said Nina. “I came here to find Bo Yul-Bayur, and I’m not leaving without him.”
“What’s the point?” said Wylan. “Even if you manage to get to the White Island and find Yul-Bayur, we’ll have no way out. Jesper’s right: We should go now while we still have a chance.”
Nina folded her arms. “If I have to cross to the White Island alone, I will.”
“That may not be an option,” said Matthias. “Look.”
They gathered around the base of the glass dome. The rotunda below was a mass of people, drinking, laughing, greeting each other, a kind of raucous party before the celebrations on the White Island.
As they watched, a group of new guards pushed into the room, trying to form the crowd into lines.
“They’re adding another checkpoint,” Matthias said. “They’re going to review everyone’s identification again before they allow people access to the glass bridge.”
“Because of Yellow Protocol?” asked Jesper. “Probably. A precaution.”
It was like seeing the last bit of their luck drain from a glass.
“Then that decides it,” said Jesper. “We cut our losses and try to get out now.”
“I know a way,” Inej said quietly. They all turned to look at her. The yellow light from the dome pooled in her dark eyes. “We can get through that checkpoint and onto the White Island.” She pointed below to where two groups of people had entered the rotunda from the gatehouse courtyard and were shaking the mist from their clothes. The girls from the House of the Blue Iris were easily identified by the colour of their gowns and the flowers displayed in their hair and at their necklines. And no one could mistake the men of the Anvil – extensive tattoos on proud display, arms bare despite the chilly weather. “The West Stave delegations have started to arrive. We can get in.”
“Inej—” said Kaz.
“Nina and I can get inside,” she continued. Her back was straight, her tone steady. She looked like someone facing the firing squad and saying damn the blindfolds. “We enter with the Menagerie.”
