They’d rounded a bend between two archways and were in the cover of deep shadow. Ahead of them, a medik was emerging from a cell accompanied by guards, one carrying a lantern. “He’ll sleep through the night,” the medik said. “Make sure he drinks something in the morning and check his pupils. I had to give him a powerful sleeping draft.”
As the men moved off in the opposite direction, Kaz gestured his group forward. The door in the rock was solid iron, broken only by a narrow slot through which to pass the prisoner ’s meals. Kaz bent to the lock.
Nina eyed the crude iron door. “This place is barbaric.”
“Most of the better fighters sleep in the old tower,” Kaz replied. “Keeps them away from the rest of the population.”
Nina glanced left and right to where bright light spilled from the arena entryways. There were guards standing in those doorways, distracted maybe, but all one needed to do was turn his head. If they were caught here, would the guards bother giving them over to the stadwatch for trial or would they simply force them into the ring to be eaten by a tiger? Maybe something less dignified, she thought bleakly. A swarm of angry voles.
It took Kaz a few quick heartbeats to pick the lock. The door creaked open and they slipped inside.
The cell was pitch-black. A brief moment passed, and the cold green glow of a bonelight flickered to life beside her. Inej held the little glass sphere aloft. The substance inside was made from the dried and crushed bodies of luminous deep-sea fishes. They were common among crooks in the Barrel who didn’t want to get caught in a dark alley, but couldn’t be bothered to lug around lanterns.
At least it’s clean, Nina thought, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Barren and icy cold, but not filthy. She saw a pallet of horse blankets and two buckets placed against the wall, one with a bloody cloth peeking over the rim.
This was what the men of Hellgate competed for: a private cell, a blanket, clean water, a bucket for waste.
Matthias slept with his back to the wall. Even in the dim illumination of the bonelight, she could see his face was starting to swell. Some kind of ointment had been smeared over his wounds – calendula.
She recognised the smell.
Nina moved towards him, but Kaz stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Let Inej assess the damage.”
“I can—” Nina began.
“I need you to work on Muzzen.”
Inej tossed Kaz the crow-headed cane she must have been hiding beneath her Grey Imp costume,
and kneeled over Matthias’ body with the bonelight. Muzzen stepped forward. He removed his cloak and shirt and the Madman’s mask. His head was shaved, and he wore prison-issue trousers.
Nina looked at Matthias then back to Muzzen, grasping what Kaz had in mind. The two boys were
about the same height and the same build, but that was where the similarities ended.
“You can’t possibly mean for Muzzen to take Matthias’ place.”
“He isn’t here for his sparkling conversation,” Kaz replied. “You’ll need to reproduce Helvar ’s injuries. Inej, what’s the inventory?”
“Bruised knuckles, chipped tooth, two broken ribs,” Inej said. “Third and fourth on the left.”
“His left or your left?” Kaz asked.
“His left.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Nina said in frustration. “I can match the damage to Helvar ’s body, but I’m not a good enough Tailor to make Muzzen look like him.”
“Just trust me, Nina.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces, Kaz.” She peered at Muzzen’s face.
“Even if I swell him up, he’ll never pass.”
“Tonight, Matthias Helvar – or rather, our dear Muzzen – is going to appear to contract firepox, the lupine strain, carried by wolves and dogs alike. Tomorrow morning, when his guards discover him so covered in pustules that he is unrecognisable, he will be quarantined for a month to see if he survives the fever and to outwait the contagion. Meanwhile Matthias will be with us. Get it?”
“You want me to make Muzzen look like he has firepox?”
“Yes, and do it quickly, Nina, because in about ten minutes, things are going to get very hectic around here.”
Nina stared at him. What was Kaz planning? “No matter what I do to him, it won’t last a month. I can’t give him a permanent fever.”
“My contact in the infirmary will make sure he stays sick enough. We just need to get him through diagnosis. Now get to work.”
Nina looked Muzzen up and down. “This is going to hurt just as much as if you’d been in the fight yourself,” she warned.
He scrunched up his face, bracing for the pain. “I can take it.”
She rolled her eyes, then lifted her hands, concentrating. With a sharp slice of her right hand over her left, she snapped Muzzen’s ribs.
He let out a grunt and doubled over.
“That’s a good boy,” said Kaz. “Taking it like a champion. Knuckles next, then face.”
Nina spread bruises and cuts over Muzzen’s knuckles and arms, matching the wounds to Inej’s descriptions.
“I’ve never seen firepox up close,” Nina said. She was only familiar with illustrations from books they’d used in their anatomy training at the Little Palace.