𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 | 𝑘.𝑏.

35

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C H E A T
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"WHAT IF I SAY NO, Brekker? What if I don't give you this last bit of myself and my honor?" It was mere posturing, Matthias was aware of that. The time for protest had long passed. But Matthias disliked how well this low thief could read him.

"You will, Helvar. Nina is on her way to the White Island right now. Are you really going to leave her stranded?"

Matthias didn't like the mockery in Brekker's voice. "You presume a great deal."

Brekker kept pace as they jogged down the gentle slope of the embassy roof toward the druskelle sector, despite his crooked gait and lack of cane. "Seems like the perfect amount to me."

Matthias opened his mouth, half certain his tongue was about to bring the water witch into this, but Jesper beat him to speaking. "These are the law courts, right?" Each of the elegant courtyards below were built around a burbling fountain and dotted with rustling ice willows. "I guess if you're going to be sentenced to death, this isn't a bad place for it."

"Water everywhere," Wylan observed through a pant, not used to this kind of physical exertion. "Do the fountains symbolize Djel?"

"The wellspring," mused Kaz, "where all sins are washed clean."

"Or where they drown you and make you confess," Wylan said.

Kaz had almost chuckled at that. It sounded like the kind of thing Feta would say.

Jesper snorted freely. "Wylan, your thoughts have taken a very dark turn. I fear the Dregs may be a bad influence."

Once they had crossed to the roof of the druskelle sector, with only Jesper and Kaz at total ease moving across the rope hand over hand, Matthias could no longer fight the wave of vertigo that had been waiting to crash. More than any place in the Ice Court, more than any place in the world, this felt like home to him. But it was home turned on its head, his life viewed at the wrong angle. It was much the same feeling that Feta evoked: a classic story mistranslated until the ending no longer made sense.

Peering into the dark, he saw the massive pyramid skylights that marked the roof. He had the disconcerting sense that if he looked through the glass he would see himself running drills in the training rooms, seated at the long table in the dining hall.

In the distance, he heard the wolves barking and yapping in their kennel by the gatehouse, wondering where their masters had gone for the night. Would they recognize him if he approached with an outstretched hand? He wasn't sure he recognized himself. On the northern ice, his choices had seemed clear. But now his thoughts were muddied with these thugs and thieves, with Inej's courage and Jesper's daring, with Feta's glitter and Wylan's effort, and with Nina, always Nina.

He couldn't deny the relief he'd felt when she'd emerged from the incinerator shaft, disheveled and gasping, frightened but alive. When he and Wylan had pulled her out of the flue, he'd had to force himself to let her go.

No more weakness tonight, Matthias.

They reached the lip of the roof overlooking the ice moat. From here it looked solid, its surface polished bright as a mirror and illuminated by the guard towers on the White Island. But the moat's waters were ever shifting, concealed only by a wafer-thin skin of frost.

Kaz secured another coil of rope to the roof's edge and prepared to rappel down to the shore.

"You know what to do," he said to Jesper and Wylan. "Eleven bells and not before."

"When have I ever been early?" asked Jesper.

Kaz braced himself for the descent and vanished over the side. Matthias followed, hands gripping the rope, bare feet pressed against the wall. When he glanced up, he saw Wylan and Jesper gazing down at him. Jesper even gave a little wave. But the next time he looked, they were gone.