𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 | 𝑘.𝑏.

30

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R A I N D A N C E
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JESPER HAD EXPECTED THE REST of the crew to be collecting demo supplies in the big laundry room already. But all he saw were giant tin tubs, long tables for folding, and clothes left to dry overnight on racks taller than he was.

Him and Matthias found Wylan, Inej, and Feta in the refuse room. It was smaller than the laundry and stank of garbage. Two big rolling bins full of discarded clothes were pushed against one wall, waiting to be burned. Jesper felt the heat emanating from the incinerator as soon as they entered.

Jesper took a brief moment to appraise Feta and Inej now that they all had a second to breathe during the job, outside of their cells. Both girls clad in the colorless prison wear, Feta's arms even lacking her signature tattoos, Jesper had to cling to traces of home in Inej's braid, in the studded and hooped piercings Feta had identical to those in Jesper's own ears.

It was the merchling who brought him out of his moment of peace. "We have a problem," Wylan said.

Jesper half expected Feta to crack a joke about Wylan's pessimism, having taken obvious note of her improved mood since her effortless encounter with the human amplifier. But Feta's eyes were set grimly on Inej, who pretended not to notice Feta staring her down.

"How bad?" Jesper asked, dumping his coils of rope on the floor.

Inej gestured to a pair of big metal doors set into what looked like a giant chimney that jutted out from the wall and stretched all the way up to the ceiling. "I think they ran the incinerator this afternoon."

"You said they ran it in the mornings," he said to Matthias.

"They used to," Matthias insisted.

"Don't worry, it gets worse," Feta said, drifting over to the doors. She pulled them open by their leather-covered handles and unleashed a blast of searing air. It carried the black and acrid smell of coal — and something else: a chemical smell, maybe something they added to make the fires burn hotter. This was where all the refuse from the prison was disposed of — kitchen leavings, buckets of human filth, the clothing stripped from prisoners, but whatever the Fjerdans had added to the fuel burned hot enough to sear any foulness away. Jesper approached where Feta was frowning at the intense residual heat and already he had begun to sweat. Far below, he saw the incinerator coals, banked but still pulsing with an angry red glow.

"Wylan, give me a shirt from one of the bins," Jesper said.

He tore off one of the sleeves and tossed it into the shaft. It fell soundlessly, caught flame midair, and had begun to burn away to nothing before it ever had the chance to reach the coals.

Jesper helped Feta close the doors and tossed the remnants of the shirt back in the bin. "Well, demo is out," he said. "We can't take explosives in there. Can you still make the climb?" he asked Inej.

"Maybe," she said. Feta's lips pressed into a line that clearly said you shouldn't have to. Inej caught this look. She conceded, "I don't know."

"What does Kaz say? Where is Kaz? And where's Nina?"

"Mr. Boss doesn't know yet," Feta said. "About the incinerator. He and Nina already went to search the upper cells."

Matthias' glower went dark as a rain-heavy sky ready to split. "Jesper and I were supposed to go with Nina."

"Kaz didn't want to wait."

"We were on time," said Matthias angrily. "What is he up to?"

Feta shrugged. "Either something genius or something stupid. Who's to say?"