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, although Lianna had never been a fan of his regular style, either. The always present, mysterious black gloves, the reason behind thousands of theories about his horrible hands which must remain unseen, the well-fitted suits and thightly knotted ties and the cane, so much more deadly in his hands than guns or knives in someone else's. She wasn't impressed by his fashion choices, but at least those fit his image. The brightly-coloured, idiotic mask and equally unsettling orange cloak did not, however.

Although, she really shouldn't judge him, considering the fact that she was given a stupidly absurd costume as well. It kind of made sense, considering that the plan itself was just as ridiculous.

The night was cold, air freezing enough she could feel it in her bones as soon as she took the first careful step onto the balcony. The cold didn't go away when she jumped over it or later, as she ran down the streets. She was shivering by the time she'd made it to Fifth Harbour. It was a quarter before midnight, that part of the port unusualy quiet and calm, no people to be seen and only distant noises coming from the Barrel. Kaz Brekker was already there, and so was Muzzen – the boy she had the pleasure of meeting a few hours prior, who was now busy tinkering with one of the rowboats moored at the shore.

If Kaz was even the slightest bit impressed with her early arrival, he didn't show it.

"Lianna," he greeted simply, as she jogged towards them.

"Kaz." Lianna slowed down with the few last steps and stopped next to him. She then turned to look at the other boy, "Muzzen. Good to see you again."

He smiled at her over his shoulder and turned to Kaz, a bright beam on his face and eyebrows wiggling. Muzzen was a silly boy, more obvious in his attraction to Lianna than anyone would think neccesary, even though they had only met earlier that day. He was lighthearted and funny, to Kaz's constant annoyance. Muzzen was a good guy and Lianna would rather not think about how unfair it was for kids like him to end up in a place like the Barrel. Not that she looked down on the Dregs, or any other young gang members for that matter, but the injustice of their situation struck her far too often.

"What's with the costumes?" she teased. Both boys dressed up as Madman – a character from Komedie Brute, the story beloved by people of Ketterdam. "Are you getting ready for a play?"

"Not exactly," objected Muzzen, as he threw something at Lianna.

She looked inside the bag – there was some kind of blue material at the bottom of it.

"What is it?"

Kaz walked up to her and snatched the bag from her hands. He then pulled out a blue cloak made of silk, similar to his own, but more extravagant and shiny, and matching accesory – a glossy, azure veil with excessive, silver jewelry. "Put this on," he ordered, handing her the Lost Bride's attire – she was a character, due to her desirable characteristics, popular mostly in pleasure houses, where tourists and gamblers apparently enjoyed the thrill of spending the night with a non-existent lady.

"That's no way to treat a girl, Brekker," joked Muzzen, but one stern side glance from Kaz was enough to seal his mouth.

Lianna moved her hand over the soft, expensive-looking cloth, wondering who it was stolen from and what was the purpose of all this. Kaz didn't arrange their meeting just to play dress-up, that much was certain. What did she get herself into?

"Kaz," Lianna's voice quiet and hesitant, "who are we going to plunder?"

"Not who, but what," he answered. Kaz's voice was as raspy as ever, but it had that miniscule hint of... anticipation? It was insignificant and anyone not as observant as Lianna would have missed that shift of tone; but to her, it was apparent – like a daffodil growing on the Reaper's Barge. The boy seemed to thrive off of invariably being one step ahead of everyone else. "Do you know what humankind could never get along without?"

She shrugged, not in the mood for playing along with one of his sneaky questions. "Money?" Lianna asked as she began dressing up. The flamboyant robe was far too loose on her, the sleeves dangled dolefully and even after she tried to roll them up, the silk kept coming back down.

"Money is one of the options, I must admit." Kaz smirked slyly. "But even the Barrel scums, broke to the wide, somehow find ways to enjoy themselves."

She narrowed her eyes, looking from Kaz to Muzzen and back to Kaz.

"Seriously?" Lianna swang the veil which she was just about to put in her hair, pointing it at Kaz instead. "You bring me out here in the middle of the night to say this nonsense, and for what? So you can make me realize people like to have fun? Maybe tell me to meet you in Shu Han tomorrow so you can teach me how to tie my shoelaces?"

"You need to work on your temper." Kaz let out an exatarated sigh. "That was just an introduction to our plan."

With furrowed brows, Lianna crossed her arms. "Do tell me more, Brekker. And be specific about it."

Kaz looked as if he was seriously contemplating hitting her with his cane.

"As I was saying," he began, "people love to have a ball. The sky could be collapsing and the ground could be breaking in two, but there'd still be end-of-the-world parties and celebrations of humanity's last days on this vale of suffering." He stepped closer to Lianna. "You know about Hellgate, don't you? That place is as close to an apocalypse as we'll, truly awful, but even there are some ways of having fun. If you're on the right side of it, that is."

Everyone knew of Hellgate. The prison was allegedly worthy of it's name and reputation, but she didn't feel like checking it herself.

"You mean..."

"There is someone we need in Hellgate," he said. "And tonight, there is a certain... festivity held there." With a motion of his hand he pointed towards her ridiculous disguise. "Everyone will be dressed just like us, and we'll take advantage of that. They wouldn't be able to stop us, even if they tried."

Her mouth hang slightly agape in disbelief, before she realised and shut it quickly. "Is breaking people out of jail some kind of speciality of yours?"

His eyes were cold as the northern ice. "You can think of this as a warm-up before our Ice Court job."

"Wonderful." She nodded mockingly, embroiling the sheer veil into her unbraided hair. It sparkled azure against the onyx of her locks, anything but comfortable, the many layers used to create a feeling of splendour and luxury difficult to keep out of her face.

The chilly, midnight air was suddenly pierced through by somebody's sweet, low voice, far too familiar to Lianna. "Andersen?"

She turned around quickly, the veil almost falling from the top of her head in the process, but she couldn't pay less mind to the fact. In a split second, the girl's expression changed drastically, stars lighting up in her ocean eyes, a bright smile blooming on her face, cheeks no longer pale, but flushing rose, all because of the girl standing mere footsteps from her.

Three years have past since she last had a chance to look at Nina Zenik, but Lianna recognized her in a heartbeat. The girl was still crimson embodied, red sateen robes emphasizing the emerald of her eyes as alluringly as when she used to wear the scarlet kefta of Healers and Heartrenders.

"Nina." Her whisper soft as a feather, but its certainity could be heard clearly.

The growing on Nina's face when she ran up to embrace Lianna could have blinded the stars. Her auburn hair smelled like a rosarium midsummer, the material of her dress velvety and delicate.

"I've missed you so much." Nina was almost eight inches taller, so she had to lean down for Lianna to hear her. "You have no idea."

When Lianna's parents decided on her departure to Kerch, many Grisha of the Little Palace considered her a traitor (not that she could criticise them for it – the times were desperate and so were the people), but Nina never turned her back on her. "If you ever need help," she told Lianna the last time they saw each other, "find me."

Lianna found herself recalling all of the memories she previously obliviated. When she was twelve, Nina thirteen and they had stolen food from the kitchens with other friends – Etherealki, Corporalki or Materialki, she couldn't remember. When a Tidemaker, two or three years older than them, had pushed a Healer into the lake in the commons, and everyone else just watched their fight, laughing until their cheeks hurt and lungs struggled to inhale another breath. When they had stayed up all night, trying to tailor Lianna's hair blonde, because she had thought it would have made a boy whose name she couldn't even remember fall for her. They had overslept the following morning, and it had cost them three days of detention, which basically meant cleaning up for other people after every meal. Back then, she didn't appreciate those moments enough, took them for granted. Now she'd give and do anything to go back.

"You'd be surprised," she answered, hugging Nina back. "I've missed you too."

The Heartrender thightened her grip around Lianna's waist even more.

"Now that we have this touching reunion behind us," remarked Brekker dryly, "shall we get to work?" He walked up to them and handed Nina a Lost Bride's cape of her own.

Only then did Lianna realize, that she was in the exact same situation as Nina – the Corpolarki wasn't here by accident, they were both working for Kaz. She glanced at Nina's face, and, judging by the looks of it, the chestnut haired girl had a similar epiphany.

"Why are you here, Nina?" Lianna asked, as they followed Kaz and Muzzen onto the rowboat – the latter boy must have finished whatever final adjustments he was making.

"It's a long story." Nina sighed, but a spectre of a smile played on her lips – nostalgic, absent. "But it has a lot to do with the prisoner we're rescuing."

Lianna raised her eyebrows, but she didn't pressure. Side by side, they got into the boat and sat behind the other two boys – Kaz's back turned to them, but Muzzen's turned towards the vast, endless sea. He was there to handle the rowing, she realized, taking note of the boy's broad shoulders and big stature. Or did Kaz Brekker also need a strong-armed thug for something else? Was he expecting trouble?

Well, he better not expect me to use my powers, she thought, looking at the waves created by Muzzen's paddling. I didn't spend so many years in hiding to expose myself during some stupid fight.

She couldn't help but wonder if that was the crew they were working with – with the addition of that heavily-guarded prisoner, according to what Kaz had said. Two Grisha, too far away from home to turn down a job that would guarantee their return, a ruthless bastard, plus someone who in the Dregs played the role of an enforcer at best. How would a ragtag group of this sorts break into the most sacred place in all of Fjerda?

It wasn't long until, accompanied by Muzzen's joyful humming, they reached closer to Terrenjel – one of Kerch's outlying islands, although this one more significant than the rest. That's where Hellgate was located, the residance for incarcerating the most vile and ruthless criminals, according to the claims of the Merchant Council, that is. Most people didn't think twice about it, but Lianna doubted if the capitalists in charge of this filthy city were indeed a reliable source. Theoretically speaking, it's not as if they could be put on trial for enthraling the prisoners.

The closer they got, the thicker the fog became. The air was uncomfortably humid, the smell of death turbid all around, the wooden boat suspended in the dim, ashen haze. When they rowed near enough they could see the prison, she noticed that its walls were moss-covered, repellent and viscous.

"Lower your veils," whispered Kaz from behind his ludicrously large eyes and broad nose. Madman's essential feature were his exaggerated face – on the stage, the ridiculousness of his characteristics made the crowd errupt into a wave of giggles and point fingers in delight, but surrounded by the low-lying clammy mist, he looked rather unsettling.

Lianna obediently let down the diaphanous, silvery material. They approached the rugged shoal, several attrited lanterns illuminating their way. Two men rushed towards them to pull the boat ashore. She noticed various other boats being hauled onto land, too, with many other Scarab Queens, Madmen, Brides and Crimsons hurrying towards Hellgate. What was going on there, she couldn't have guessed, but it was apparent that Kaz has really thought everything through. In the sea of a hundred other disguisers, their own bright costumes made them, ironically, unnoticable, hiding safely in plain sight. The darkest place is under the candle.

"Money," said one of the men as soon as Lianna's feet met the stony shore. He was at least a head taller than her, his muscled arms covered with tatoos.

"I don't have any." She raised her hands defensively, trying to walk past him, but the man outstreched his arm, stopping her in her tracks. He looked like he was going to throw her into the water, but thankfully Kaz rushed to step in between them and handed the man a stack of kruge. Once it was counted, they were allowed to move forward, but the man continued observing Lianna with furrowed brows. Why were the people of Kerch so hot-headed when it came to payments was beyond her.

"Keep your head down," murmured Kaz, when Lianna kept making eye contact with the savage guard. He nudged her side angrily. "Stop staring at him."

"I wasn't staring." Lianna hesitantly averted her gaze. She wasn't planning to do anything stupid, but the encounter annoyed her, to say the least.

"Here's some piece of advice for you, if a dangerous looking guy asks you for money, you don't answer with I don't have any," Kaz growled furiously, nudging her to move faster. "You say, Wait until my boss gets off the boat, and he will pay right up, sir."

She let out a miffed huff. "You're not my boss, Brekker." And under her breath she added, "I think you're more of a sidekick."

But Kaz Brekker heard her loud and clear and, judging by his expression, he was riled to put it mildly. At that point, she could have started a list of people who looked like they'd like to throw her into the sea.

A track lit up by torches led them to the leeward side of the bastille, they passed several high, black towers built of stone and adorned with razor wire at the tops. Lianna felt herself shudder at the mere sight of the fortress. How did the convicts feel when they were escorted here, knowing it's possibly both their first and last time seeing the prison's ironclad walls, walking the gravel pathway towards their own demise?

Through a door that had suddenly been opened, they passed a dark, frousy kitchen to a dank corridor and, finally, onto a high pathway tiled with stones. It didn't seem like they were going to stop anytime soon, so Lianna walked up to Kaz, causing the boy to send her an irritated look.

"What?" he murmured.

"Where are we—"

Suddenly, Lianna stopped in her tracks, letting out a surprised yelp. Right next to her, in the shadows of one of the hall's corners she spotted an outline of someone's silhouette. Kaz looked at her questioningly, Madman's mask raised onto his forehead, but as he followed her startled gaze, his usual, blank expression came back as his Wraith emerged from the darkness.

"Inej," Nina said, her breath wavering.

Inej nodded. She was dressed as the Grey Imp, Lianna was now able to tell, but the horns on her head and her dark eyes reflecting the light of the torches, hidden in the shade, caught her off-guard at first. The Suli girl fixed the Squaller with a keen stare.

"We haven't yet met offically, Lianna." Inej outstreched her hand towards the grisha, a smile on her face. "Although we technically saw each other a few days ago."

Lianna let out a small laugh as she shook Inej's hand – firm and rough from climbing buildings, weilding knives and dealing with all of the other dangers of Ketterdam. Inej wasn't particularly short, taller than Lianna by an inch or two, but she was undoubtedly small, but not in a fragile kind of way – it felt as if she filled up so little space, she could vanish into thin air at any given time.

"It's still nice to actually meet you."

"How did you even get here?" Nina asked in disbelief. Lianna realized that the other grisha apparently knew all of Kaz's colleagues pretty well.

"I came earlier," Inej's voice sounded as if she considered her answer obvious and the question unnecessary, "on a supply baggage."

Nina gritted her teeth. "Do people just come and go from Hellgate for fun?"

"Once a week they do." Inej remained absolutely composed, actively ignoring Nina's sarcasm-dripped words.

"What do you mean once a week—"

"Keep quiet," interrupted Kaz, lowering his mask once again.

"Don't shush me, Brekker. If it's this easy to get into Hellgate—"

Lianna frowned. "Why does it sound like you want to—"

"The problem isn't getting, it's getting out." Kaz waved at them to keep walking. "Now shut up and stay alert."

They entered a thight passageway, its rough-hewn stone walls blackened by years of bearing the smoke of lit up torches. Spiralling lower and lower, they finally reached a cramped tunnel full of dark caves fitted with iron bars, desperate, animalistic groans coming from inside of the cells. Lianna couldn't help but feel like the air was soiled with the scent of old-spilled, dry blood left uncleaned.

"This is the old prison," Kaz spoke up finally. "When they built the new tower, they left this one standing."

"They still keep prisoners here?" came a question from Nina, who stayed at the end of their ersatz of a cavalcade.

"Only the worst of them."

The man leading them through the corridors ignored their conversation, continuing his walk towards the sound of loud chanting, which had just now reached Lia's ears. It sounded as if an extremely vigurous crowd was above them, thousands of people shouting at the top of their lungs. Eventually, as they moved forward deep enough into the tunnel, she noticed specks of light coming in through staggered archways. The roaring became deafeningly loud, the enraged assembly of screaming spectators now fully visible.

They stopped in front of a prison guard dressed in a dingy uniform, rifle slunging across his back. He looked particularly uninterested in the boisterous noise, as if events like this occured often enough for him to get used to.

"If any of you need to leave, the guard will call for an escort," their guide spoke to Kaz. "No one goes wandering off alone, understood?"

"Of course, of course, wouldn't dream of it." Kaz's tone was sincere, but not convincing.

"Enjoy," came the answer, an ill grin plastered across the man's face.