Page 54 of Crooked Kingdom (Dregs 2)
They lifted the portrait back into place over the gaping hole in the safe. Martin Van Eck glared down at them.
“Think on it, Wylan,” Kaz said as he straightened the frame. “It’s shame that lines my pockets, shame that keeps the Barrel teeming with fools ready to put on a mask just so they can have what they want with no one the wiser for it. We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”
“Wise words,” said a voice from the corner.
Kaz and Wylan whirled. The lamps flared brightly, flooding the room with light, and a figure emerged from a niche in the opposite wall that hadn’t been there a moment before: Pekka Rollins, a smug grin on his ruddy face, bracketed by a cluster of Dime Lions all carrying pistols, saps, and axe handles.
“Kaz Brekker,” Rollins mocked. “Philosopher crook.”
19
MATTHIAS
“Stay down!” Matthias shouted at Kuwei. The Shu boy flattened himself to the floor. A second rattle of gunfire shook the air, shattering another of the stained-glass portholes.
“Either they’re interested in wasting a lot of bullets or those are warning shots,” said Jesper. In a low crouch, Matthias edged to the other side of the tomb and peered through a thin crack in the stone.
“We’re surrounded,” he said. The people standing between Black Veil’s graves were a far cry from the stadwatch officers he’d expected to see. In the flickering light of lanterns and torches, Matthias glimpsed plaid and paisley, striped vests, and checkered coats. The uniform of the Barrel. They carried equally motley weapons—guns, knives as long as a man’s forearm, wooden bats.
“I can’t make out their tattoos,” said Jesper. “But I’m pretty sure that’s Doughty up front.”
Doughty. Matthias searched his memory, then remembered the man who had escorted them to Pekka Rollins when Kaz had sought a loan. “Dime Lions.”
“A lot of them.”
“What do they want?” said Kuwei tremulously.
Matthias could hear people laughing, shouting, and beneath it all, the low, fevered buzz that came when soldiers knew they had the advantage, when they scented the promise of bloodshed in the air.
A cheer arose from the crowd as a Dime Lion sprinted forward and hurled something toward the tomb. It soared through one of the broken windows and hit the floor with a clang. Green gas burst from its sides.
Matthias yanked a horse blanket from the floor and threw it over the canister. He shoved it back through the porthole as another stutter of gunfire split the air. His eyes burned, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Now the buzz was cresting. The Dime Lions surged forward.
Jesper squeezed off a shot and one of the advancing crew fell, his torch extinguished on the damp ground. Again and again Jesper fired, his aim unerring as Dime Lions toppled. Their ranks broke as they scattered for cover.
“Keep lining up, boys,” Jesper said grimly.
“Come on out!” bellowed Doughty from behind a grave. “You can’t shoot us all.”
“I can’t hear you,” shouted Jesper. “Come closer.”
“We smashed your boats. You got no way off this island except us. So come quiet or we’ll bring just your heads back to the Barrel.”
“Watch out!” said Matthias. Doughty had been distracting them. Another canister crashed through a window, then another. “The catacomb!” Matthias roared, and they raced for the opposite end of the tomb, cramming themselves into the passage and sealing the stone door behind them. Jesper tore off his shirt and shoved it into the gap between the door and the floor.
The dark was almost complete. For a moment, there was only the sound of the three of them coughing and gasping, trying to dislodge the gas from their lungs. Then Jesper shook out a bonelight and their faces were lit by an eerie green glow.
“How the hell did they find us?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Matthias. There was no time to think about how Black Veil had been compromised. All he knew was that if Pekka Rollins had sent his gang after them, Nina might be in danger too. “What are our assets?”
“Wylan left us with a bunch of those violet bombs in case we ran into trouble with the Shu soldiers, and I’ve got a couple of flash bombs too. Kuwei?”
“I have nothing,” he said.
“You have that damn travel pack,” said Jesper. “There’s nothing useful in there?”
Kuwei clutched the bag to his chest. “My notebooks,” he said with a sniff.
“What about the leavings from Wylan’s work?” asked Matthias. No one had bothered to clear anything away.
“It’s just some of the stuff he used to make the fireworks for Goedmedbridge,” said Jesper.
A flurry of shouts came from outside.
“They’re going to blow the door to the tomb,” said Matthias. It was what he would have done if he’d wanted prisoners instead of casualties, though he felt certain Kuwei was the only one of them the Dime Lions cared about extracting alive.
“There have to be at least thirty toughs out there looking to skin our hides,” said Jesper. “There’s only one way out of the tomb, and we’re on a damn island. We’re done for.”
“Maybe not,” said Matthias, considering the ghostly green glow of the bonelight. Though he did not have Kaz’s gift for scheming, he’d been raised in the military. There might be a way out of this.
“Are you crazy? The Dime Lions have to know how badly outnumbered we are.”
“True,” said Matthias. “But they don’t know that two of us are Grisha.” They thought they were hunting a scientist, not an Inferni, and Jesper had long kept his Fabrikator powers a secret.
“Yeah, two Grisha with barely any training,” said Jesper.
A loud boom sounded, shaking the tomb walls and sending Matthias careening into the others.
“They’re coming!” cried Kuwei.
But no footsteps sounded, and there was another series of shouts from outside. “They didn’t use a big enough charge,” said Matthias. “They want you alive, so they’re being cautious. We have one more chance. Kuwei, how much heat can you produce from a flame?”
“I can make a fire burn more intensely, but it’s hard to maintain.”
Matthias remembered the violet flames licking over the body of the flying Shu soldier, inextinguishable. Wylan had said they burned hotter than ordinary fire.
“Give me one of the bombs,” he told Jesper. “I’m going to blow the back of the catacomb.”
“Why?”
“To make them think we’re blasting our way out the other side,” Matthias said, setting the bomb at the farthest end of the stone passage.
“Are you sure you aren’t going to blow us up with it?”
“No,” admitted Matthias. “But unless you have some brilliant idea—”
“I—”
“Shooting as many people as possible before we die is not an option.”
Jesper shrugged. “In that case, go on.”
“Kuwei, as soon as the bomb goes off, get to the front door as fast as you can. The gas should have diffused, but I want you to run. I’ll be right behind you, lending cover. Do you know the tomb with the big broken mast?”
“To the right?”
“Yes. Head straight for that. Jesper, grab up all those powders that Wylan left and do the same.”
“Why?”
Matthias lit the fuse. “You can follow my orders or you can ask your questions of the Dime Lions. Now, get down.”
He shoved them both against the wall, shielding their bodies as a thunderous boom sounded from the end of the tunnel.
“Run!”
They burst through the catacomb door.
Matthias kept a hand on Kuwei’s shoulder, urging him along as they raced through the remnants of the green gas. “Remember, head straight to the broken mast.” He kicked open the tomb door and lobbed a flash bomb into the air. It exploded in shards of diamond-white light, and Matthias ran for cover in the trees, blasting at the Dime Lio
ns with his rifle as he dodged through the graves.
