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 Lions with his rifle as he dodged through the graves.
The Dime Lions returned fire and Matthias dove beneath a slump of moss-covered stones. He saw Jesper charge through the tomb door, revolvers blazing, cutting toward the broken stone mast. Matthias lobbed the last flash bomb into the air as Jesper rolled to the right, and the roar of gunfire erupted like a storm breaking as the Dime Lions forgot all promise of discipline or offer of reward and let fly with everything they had. They might have been ordered to keep Kuwei alive, but they were Barrel rats, not trained soldiers.
On his belly, Matthias crawled through the dirt of the graveyard. “Everyone unhurt?” he asked as he reached the broken mast of the mausoleum.
“Out of breath but still breathing,” said Jesper. Kuwei nodded, though he was shaking badly. “Fantastic plan, by the way. How is being pinned down here better than being pinned down in the tomb?”
“Did you get Wylan’s powders?”
“What was left of them,” said Jesper. He emptied his pockets, revealing three packets.
Matthias chose one at random. “Can you manipulate those powders?”
Jesper shifted uneasily. “Yes. I guess. I did something similar at the Ice Court. Why?”
Why. Why. In the drüskelle he would have been brigged for insubordination.
“Black Veil is supposedly haunted, yes? We’re going to make some ghosts.” Matthias glanced around the edge of the mausoleum. “They’re moving in. I need you to follow my orders and stop asking questions. Both of you.”
“No wonder you and Kaz don’t get along,” Jesper muttered.
In as few words as he could, Matthias explained what he intended now and when they reached the island’s shore—assuming