𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 // 𝐊𝐚𝐳 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐗𝐈.

Brynn listened to them as the Fjerdans argued over papers and the mix-up, the drivers simply shrugging and telling the guards that it wasn't their problem. Good, she thought. That's the way.

When the guards moved further down the line, Inej helped Nina up. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Nina nodded, leaning a little on the Suli girl. "I'm fine. But I don't think we have to worry about Pekka Rollins' team anymore."

Brynn followed her gaze to the top of the ringwall where five men had been impaled on the spikes. She nearly gagged at their bruises and welts that she'd received from the Fjerdans before being skewered like meat for roasting, but she forced herself to scan their faces for anyone she recognized, even if most of them were too swollen and distorted to identify. Each of the men had a black mark on their arm—a Dime Lions' tattoo.

Now the guards argued with the wagon driver, animatedly gesturing to Inej. Kaz leaned in closer to her to whisper, "What's happening?"

"They say the papers are out of order, that they have a Suli girl instead of a Shu boy and a Kaelish girl instead of a Zemeni girl."

"And the driver?" asked Inej.

Brynn shrugged. "Not his problem, he says."

"That's the way," murmured Kaz.

Brynn kept up with the conversation the entire time, just in case something changed in the debate or she needed to translate again. Nina was also listening attentively.

Finally, one of the guards sighed, signaling to his companions. "Diveskemen."

"Go on," translated Nina before she could, continuing as the guard spoke again. "Take them to the east block and let the next shift sort them out." Brynn let out a sigh of relief.

The men and women were separated into two lines, then led the two rows through an archway fashioned to look like a wolf's open mouth. They entered a chamber where a woman sat with her hands chained, flanked by guards, her eyes empty. As every prisoner approached, the woman gripped his or her wrist.

A human amplifier, thought Brynn with a jolt of realization. They'd known enough about this part to encase Nina, Jesper, and Brynn's arms in paraffin, but what if it didn't work? What if she sensed that they were Grisha? The heist would be a bust. Everyone else would likely be locked away in the Ice Court forever while the three of them were put to death, probably in a very violent manner.

Brynn watched as Nina stepped forward, shoulder tensed. The woman wrapped her hand around her wrist. Her eyelids flickered briefly, then she dropped Nina's hand and waved her along. That gave Brynn a little bit of hope.

She stepped up to the woman after Nina and held out her arm. Brynn held her breath as she clamped her fingers around her wrist. The woman sucked in a breath. The guards on either side of her stepped forward, but she waved them away and dropped Brynn's arm.

"Water," her croaky voice commanded as she waved Brynn along.

Was that really why she gasped? Did the woman know and had just not cared? Or did the paraffin really work?

The guards ushered the women through an arch to the right, another group leading the men through the opposite arch to the left. Brynn glanced over to watch Wylan, Matthias, Jesper, and Kaz disappear into the arch. Hopefully I'll see you again, she thought before turning back to walk with the other captives.

They were led to a metal walkway, shackles clanking. Brynn made sure to note and remember everything she saw. The white bulk of the ringwall on her right, a vast glass enclosure to her left. The enclosure showed off rows of heavily armored wagons with domed gun turrets on top, their wheels large and linked by a thick chain. They had a massive gun barrel on each one jutting out into the space where a team of horses would usually pull.

"What are those things?" whispered Nina.

Inej narrowed her eyes on the scary contraptions. "I saw something about them once. Tanks. They're dangerous and full of serious firepower. They don't need horses to pull them."

"No horses?" murmured Brynn.

The enclosure also held much more artillery—racks of rifles, ammunition, and black bombs that Brynn was sure did a lot of damage. Elaborate displays of older weapons sat behind the glass—axes, spears, longbows, practically every one imaginable. A banner in silver and white hung above it all: STRYMAKT FJERDAN.

Inej glanced at Brynn and she translated. "Fjerdan might."

"This is definitely Fabrikator work," muttered Nina, looking at the glass.

"I wonder how they got a Fabrikator to do it, then," said Brynn.

"Probably forced them to with a gun to their head."

They continued walking until they reached a white room, filled with tin tubs and hoses. The male guards left, leaving the prisoners alone with only female guards.

In Fjerdan, a scary-looking woman barked, "Take your clothes off. We will then search your naked person for any surprises, for which you will most certainly be punished." When only a few of them moved, she grabbed her gun. "Now."

Brynn and Nina started to strip down, Inej following their example. Brynn hated being vulnerable like this, but at least there were only women in the room. She would feel much more uncomfortable if there were men, too.

The stern woman instructed for their clothes to be taken off to the incinerator room, then the searching began. She stepped in front of Brynn, sticking her slender fingers into Brynn's mouth to feel around. She just barely registered shouting from Inej's direction, then a slap and a thump soon after.

The woman in front of Brynn grinned. "We've found a smuggler," she said in Fjerdan, but it wasn't at Brynn. Instead, Inej had been cuffed across the face, a woman holding a ring with a mechanism that sprung out little knives. Not enough to kill someone, but just right to pick a lock with. Inej slowly forced herself to her feet, giving Brynn and Nina a weak nod, as if to say, Don't worry about me, I'm fine.

Next they were given ice-cold showers. Again, Brynn hated feeling cold when there was nothing she could do about it. She was in enemy territory, now. If she so much as spoke about being a Grisha, she'd be put to death immediately.

When Brynn stepped out of the shower, shaking and soaked, one of the female guards handed her a colorless, prison-issue trousers and tunic from a neat stack on a table next to her. Brynn quickly put them on, then followed the rest of the prisoners to the holding area—equally as colorless with its gray rock and iron bars.

There weren't as many female prisoners than Brynn assumed would be male, but they were shoved into a crowded holding cell full of women who glared at them as they walked in. One was rocking back and forth, muttering something incoherent under her breath. Nina, Inej, and Brynn exchanged looks.

This plan better work, thought Brynn as she sat down in the corner. Or else I might just go crazy.

a/n— They're inside the Ice Court! What do you think is gonna happen next? Let me know!