𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 | 𝑘.𝑏.

17

|   |   |
A B O V E D E C K
|   |   |

BREKKER GESTURED MATTHIAS OVER TO where he, Jesper, and Wylan had gathered on the forecastle deck to examine plans of the Ice Court. Matthias joined them once he was done vomiting over the railing.

The sight of those drawings, infuriatingly accurate thanks to the soft one, Wylan's, steady hand, was like a knife to Matthias' heart. These fools should have been dissuaded by the walls, the gates, the guards, but apparently he was as much a fool as the rest of them.

"Why aren't there names on anything?" Brekker demanded, gesturing to the plans.

Wylan responded, although Brekker was watching Matthias with those ancient, disturbed little voids in his face. "I don't know Fjerdan, and we need the details right," Wylan said. "Helvar should do it." Wylan drew back when he saw Matthias' expression. "I'm just doing my job. Stop glaring at me."

"No," Matthias growled. It was evident Wylan didn't like dealing with the people in this crew without Feta around: when Brekker had first explained this job to them in that dim room, Wylan had nearly pulled a muscle in his neck with how frequently he was looking between the blueprint he was sketching and Feta, no matter where she was in the room.

"Here," Brekker said, tossing him a tiny, clear disk that winked in the sun. The demon had propped himself up on a barrel and was leaning against the mast, his bad leg elevated on a coil of rope, that cursed walking stick resting on his lap. Matthias liked to imagine breaking it into splinters and feeding them to Brekker one by one.

"What is it?"

"One of Raske's new inventions."

Wylan's head popped up. "I thought he did demo work."

"He does everything," said Jesper.

"Wedge it between your back teeth," Kaz instructed as he handed the disks to the others. "But don't bite dow—" Wylan started to sputter and cough, clawing at his mouth. A transparent film had spread over his lips; it bulged like a frog's gullet as he tried to breathe, eyes darting left and right in panic. Jesper started laughing. Kaz just shook his head. "Way to go, Wylan. Breathe through your nose."

The boy took deep inhales, nostrils flaring.

"Easy," said Jesper. "You're going to make yourself pass out."

"What is this?" Matthias asked, still cradling the tiny disk in his palm.

Kaz pushed his deep into his mouth, wiggling it between his teeth. "Baleen. I'd planned to save these, but after that ambush, I don't know what kind of trouble we may run into on the open sea. If you go over and can't come up for air, wiggle it free and bite down. It will buy you ten minutes of breathing time. Less if you panic," he said with a meaningful look at Wylan. He gave the boy another piece of baleen. "Be careful with that one. Can't expect Feta to have time to clean up your spittle on this job." Matthias caught the red tint that overcame the boy's pale features, although that could have been from the heavy breathing and the triggered baleen.

Kaz brought them back to order by tapping the Ice Court plans. "Names, Helvar. All of them."

Matthias picked up the pen and ink Wylan had laid out as if it was going to bite him. He hadn't gotten very far in scrambling down the names of the buildings and the surrounding roads when Brekker interrupted his train of thought.

"You're holding back." His dark eyes were trained on Matthias.

Matthias ignored the shiver that passed through him. Whatever nightmares Grisha were made from, this boy must have been from the same batch, the same wrongness. "I'm telling you what I know."