barges loaded with lumber and vast troughs piled high with coal. Every so often, they’d glimpse men working by lantern light, hefting barrels of rum or bales of cotton. Such valued cargo could not be left unattended overnight. When they had almost reached Sweet Reef, they saw two men unloading something from a large wagon parked by the side of the canal, lit by a single blue-tinged lamp.
“Corpselight,” whispered Inej, and Nina shuddered. Bonelights, made from the crushed skeletons of deep-sea fishes, glowed green. But the corpselights burned some other fuel, a blue warning that allowed people to identify the flatboats of the bodymen, whose cargo was the dead.
“What are the bodymen doing in the warehouse district?”
“People don’t like to see corpses on the streets or canals. The warehouse district is nearly deserted at night, so this is where they bring the bodies. Once the sun goes down, the bodymen collect the dead and bring them here. They work in shifts, neighborhood by neighborhood. They’ll be gone by dawn, and so will their cargo.” Out to the Reaper’s Barge for burning.
“Why don’t they just build a real cemetery?” Nina said.
“No room. I know there was some talk of reopening Black Veil a long time ago, but that all stopped when the Queen’s Lady Plague struck. People are too afraid of contagion. If your family can afford it, they send you to a cemetery or graveyard outside Ketterdam. And if they can’t …”
“No mourners,” Nina said grimly.
No mourners, no funerals. Another way of saying good luck. But it was something more. A dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for people like them, no marble markers to remember their names, no wreaths of myrtle and rose.
Inej took the lead as they approached Sweet Reef. The silos themselves were daunting, vast as sentinel gods, monuments to industry emblazoned with the Van Eck red laurel. Soon everyone would know what that emblem stood for—cowardice and deceit. The circular cluster of Van Eck’s silos was surrounded by a high metal fence.
“Razor wire,” Nina noted.
“It won’t be a problem.” It had been invented to keep livestock in their pens. It would present no challenge for the Wraith.
They took up a watch beside the sturdy red-brick wall of a warehouse and held their position, confirming that the guards’ routine hadn’t changed. Just as Kaz had said, the guards took almost twelve minutes exactly to circle the fence that surrounded the silos. When the patrols were on the eastern side of the perimeter, Inej would have roughly six minutes to cross the wire. Once they passed to the west side, it would be too easy for them to spot her on the wire between the silos, but she’d be almost impossible to see on the roof. During those six minutes, Inej would deal with depositing the weevil in the silo hatch and then detach the line. If it took her longer than six minutes, she’d simply have to wait for the guards to come back around. She’d be unable to see them, but Nina had a powerful bonelight in hand. She would signal Inej with a brief flash of green light when she was clear to make the crossing.
“Ten silos,” Inej said. “Nine crossings.”
“They’re a lot taller up close,” said Nina. “Are you ready for this?”
Inej couldn’t deny they were intimidating. “No matter the height of the mountain, the climbing is the same.”
“That’s not technically true. You need ropes, picks—”
“Don’t be a Matthias.”
Nina covered her mouth in horror. “I’m going to eat twice as much cake to make up for it.”
Inej nodded wisely. “Sound policy.”
The patrol was setting out from the guardhouse again.
“Inej,” Nina said haltingly, “you should know, my power hasn’t been the same since the parem . If we get into a scuffle—”
“No scuffles tonight. We pass through like ghosts.” She gave Nina’s shoulders a squeeze. “And I know no fiercer warrior, powers or not.”
“But—”
“Nina, the guards.”
The patrol had disappeared from view. If they didn’t act now, they would have to wait for the next cycle, and it would put them behind schedule.
“On it,” Nina said, and strode toward the guardhouse.
In the few steps it took her to cross the space from their warehouse lookout to the pool of lamplight bathing the guardhouse, Nina’s whole demeanor changed. Inej couldn’t quite explain it, but her steps grew more tentative, her shoulders drooped slightly. She almost seemed to shrink. She was no longer a trained Grisha, but a young, nervous immigrant hoping