“Tell him all you know. Where will they be keeping Bo Yul-Bayur?”
Slowly, Matthias rose and approached the plans taking shape beneath Wylan’s pen. His movements were reluctant, as wary as if Kaz had told him to pet a rattler.
“Probably here,” the Fjerdan said, resting his finger on the paper. “The prison sector. The high-security cells are on the topmost floor. It’s where they keep the most dangerous criminals. Assassins, terrorists—”
“Grisha?” Nina asked.
“Exactly,” he replied grimly.
“You guys are going to make this really fun, aren’t you?” asked Jesper. “Usually people don’t start hating each other until a week into the job, but you two have a head start.”
They cast him twin glares, and Jesper beamed back at them, but Kaz’s attention was focused on the plans.
“Bo Yul-Bayur isn’t dangerous,” he said thoughtfully. “At least not in that way. I don’t think they’ll keep him locked up with the rabble.”
“I think they’ll keep him in a grave,” said Matthias.
“Operate on the assumption that he isn’t dead. He’s a valued prisoner, one they don’t want falling into the wrong hands before he stands trial. Where would he be?”
Matthias looked at the plan. “The buildings of the outer circle surround the ice moat, and at the moat’s centre is the White Island, where the treasury and the Royal Palace are. It’s the most secure place in the Ice Court.”
“Then that’s where Bo Yul-Bayur will be,” said Kaz.
Matthias smiled. Actually, it was less a smile than a baring of teeth. He learned that grin at Hellgate, thought Jesper.
“Then your quest is pointless,” Matthias said. “There is no way a group of foreigners is going to make it to the White Island.”
“Don’t look so pleased, Helvar. We don’t get inside, you don’t get your pardon.”
Matthias shrugged. “I can’t change what is true. The ice moat is watched from multiple guard towers on the White Island and a lookout atop the Elderclock. It’s completely uncrossable except by way of the glass bridge, and there’s no way onto the glass bridge without clearance.”
“Hringk?lla is coming,” Nina said.
“Be silent,” Matthias snapped at her.
“Pray, don’t,” said Kaz.
“Hringk?lla. It’s the Day of Listening, when the new drüskelle are initiated on the White Island.”
Matthias’ knuckles flexed white. “You have no right to speak of those things. They’re holy.”
“They’re facts. The Fjerdan royals throw a huge party with guests from all over the world, and plenty of the entertainment comes straight from Ketterdam.”
“Entertainment?” Kaz asked.
“Actors, dancers, a Komedie Brute troupe, and the best talent from the pleasure houses of West Stave.”
“I thought Fjerdans didn’t go in for that sort of thing,” said Jesper.
Inej’s lips quirked. “You’ve never seen Fjerdan soldiers on the Staves?”
“I meant when they’re at home,” Jesper said.
“It’s the one day a year they all stop acting so miserable and actually let themselves have a good time,” Nina replied. “Besides, only the drüskelle live like monks.”
“A good time needn’t involve wine and … and flesh,” Matthias sputtered.
Nina batted her glossy lashes at him. “You wouldn’t know a good time if it sidled up to you and stuck a lollipop in your mouth.” She looked back at the plans. “The embassy gate will have to be open.
Maybe we shouldn’t worry about breaking into the Ice Court. Maybe we should just walk in with the performers.”
“This isn’t the Hellshow,” said Kaz. “It won’t be that easy.”
“Visitors are vetted weeks before they arrive at the Ice Court,” Matthias said. “Anyone entering the embassy will have their papers checked and checked again. Fjerdans aren’t fools.”
Nina raised a brow. “Not all of them, at least.”
“Don’t poke the bear, Nina,” Kaz said. “We need him friendly. When does this party take place?”
“It’s seasonal,” Nina said, “on the spring equinox.”
“Two weeks from today,” Inej noted.
Kaz cocked his head to one side, his eyes focused on something in the distance.
“Scheming face,” Jesper whispered to Inej.
She nodded. “Definitely.”
“Is the White Rose sending a delegation?” Kaz asked.
Nina shook her head. “I didn’t hear anything about it.”
“Even if we go straight to Djerholm,” Inej said, “we’ll need most of a week to travel. There isn’t time to secure documents or create cover that will bear up under scrutiny.”
“We’re not going in through the embassy,” said Kaz. “Always hit where the mark isn’t looking.”
“Who’s Mark?” asked Wylan.
Jesper burst out laughing. “Oh, Saints, you are something. The mark, the pigeon, the cosy, the fool you’re looking to fleece.”
Wylan drew himself up. “I may not have had your … education, but I’m sure I know plenty of words that you don’t.”