When the mists closed around the airship, he jogged down the tunnel in the cliffside to catch up to Kaz. The damp walls gleamed shiny and black in the light from Brekker’s lantern.
Their entry into the base was smooth, just a question of keeping quiet and waiting for the guards to pass through the rooms above the basement, then move on to the rest of their rounds. Nikolai and Kaz followed on silent feet, Kaz limping more heavily after their long journey down the tunnel. He wouldn’t have to repeat the trip. They would leave by air along with the stolen titanium.
Two picked locks later, they were waiting in a darkened doorway, peering through a small circular window. The base was built around a central yard full of building materials, which had once been open to the air. But now, most of the cargo was protected by the metal shell connected to the base walls, its roof humped like the back of a whale. There didn’t seem to be too many guards, and Nikolai was eager to move.
“The yard doesn’t look well protected.”
“It isn’t,” said Kaz. “They’re relying on their external defenses. They’ve gotten comfortable.”
Nikolai wondered if the same thing might be true at Ravka’s more valuable targets. Maybe he should rethink the security at his own military bases and at the palace. Brekker would probably make an excellent security consultant—if Nikolai didn’t think he would steal the golden domes right off the Little Palace roof.
“You’re twitchy for a monarch,” said Kaz, eyes on the yard.
“Have you met many?”
“Plenty of men who call themselves kings.”
Nikolai glanced through the window again. “The fate of a nation resting on one’s shoulders does make a fellow restless. Shouldn’t we get going?”
“You get one chance to make a move like this. Assuming we open that shell without the guards hearing us or some alarm going off, we’ll have about thirty minutes to exchange the aluminum for the titanium.”
“Tight. But I think we can manage it.”
“Not if our timing is off. About thirty minutes is meaningless. So we watch the guards do their rounds until we know what their pace really is.”
Thunder rumbled over the yard. Zoya’s signal. That meant the airship was in place above the steel hull protecting the cargo.
Finally Kaz said, “Stay alert.”
He pushed the door open and they were creeping across the yard.
The storm was raging now, Zoya and Adrik conducting it from above like maestros. Nikolai could hear thunder, the rough patter of rain against the metal roof. They needed those sounds. Locating the operating box was easy enough, but the awful shriek that went up from the metal hull as it creaked open was far louder than Nikolai had expected.
“Kerch engineering,” muttered Kaz.
But at last the shell split to reveal the roiling clouds of the night sky and the Cormorant hovering above. Though thunder and lightning crashed around them, thanks to the Squallers above, not a single drop of rain fell on the cargo below.
The bay doors of the airship opened and a cable was lowered.
“Go,” said Kaz. “I’ll keep the watch.”
Nikolai ran out into the yard, suddenly grateful for Kaz’s vigilance. He didn’t like the feeling of being this exposed. He had to hope the guards would stick to their routine, walking the perimeter outside. He grabbed the end of the cable and hooked its anchor to a metal beam at the base of the shell. A platform followed on a separate cable, descending in the calm that the Squallers had created. It was stacked with aluminum. Carefully, Nikolai steered the platform into position and set it beside the sprawling stash of titanium.
He took the hooks attached to the platform cables and fastened them to a pallet of titanium. It would have been easier with more hands, but they needed Kaz on lookout. And at least the titanium was light enough that it was easy to manage on the ascent.
Platform, pallet, platform, pallet. Nikolai sent titanium up and directed aluminum down as the wind howled, their progress impossibly slow. His arms and back began to ache. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard Kaz give a low whistle. A moment later, the thief appeared.
“Guards approaching. We need to get out now.”
“It can’t have been thirty minutes. We’ve only got half the titanium on board. Maybe less.”
“You can have half or you can have a gunfight. Jesper will be very sad he missed out.”
They couldn’t afford a brawl. No Ravkan agent could be found on this base, let alone the king of Ravka, regardless of his disguise.
Nikolai looked up at the airship and signaled to Adrik, leaning over the bay doors. “Let’s go.”
Kaz hit the controls and the metal shell slowly began to close. They leapt onto what would be the final pallet of titanium and the crew of the airship drew them up.
Less than one hundred feet from the bay doors of the airship, Nikolai realized something was wrong.
He peered down at the cable still hooked to the beam below. “The anchor line isn’t releasing.” Nikolai gestured up at Adrik to try the release again, but the mechanism was stuck. The anchor didn’t budge. “I have to go back down. I’ll disengage it manually.”
“There isn’t time,” said Kaz. “Those hull doors are going to close first. They can eject the cable when we get to the top.”
“No good.” If they simply released the cable, the anchor would be trapped inside the yard, evidence that someone had been where they shouldn’t be. An investigation could lead back to Ravka.
Nikolai saw lights moving along the western side of the building. The guards were coming.
“How long do I have?”
“Two minutes. Maybe three. Take your medicine, Sturmhond. They won’t be able to prove the cable is Ravkan. Not right away.”
“I can’t let that happen.” Nikolai glanced up at the airship, at the faces of the soldiers and Grisha looking down. He wished he could order them to avert their eyes. There was no way to disguise what he was about to do. “Tell me, Brekker, do you believe in monsters?”
“Of all kinds.”
“Prepare to meet another.”
He closed his eyes and let the demon uncoil. It wasn’t hard. The monster was always waiting for its chance.
Kaz raised his cane as the shadow emerged, taking shape in the air before them. “All the Saints and their ugly mothers.”
The demon spread its black wings and hurtled toward the opening in the hull doors. Nikolai’s hands still clung to the cable, but he couldn’t do much more than that. He was seeing through the demon’s eyes. He felt its arms—his arms—extend, muscles flexing, claws reaching. A moment later the monster wrenched the anchor free. The cable recoiled with sudden force and slammed against one of the carefully stacked pallets of aluminum with a reverberating clang, sending bars of metal sliding.
“So much for leaving no trace,” said Kaz, though his eyes were big as moons as he watched the demon soar upward back to them.
“They might not notice,” Nikolai said hopefully.
The anchor cleared the crack in the hull a bare breath before the shell clamped shut. But the demon was trapped inside.
“Now what?” said Kaz.
Nikolai could feel the demon speeding toward the shell. No. He tried to command it, slow its progress, force it back into shadow, but it was too wild with its own freedom. It slammed through the metal shell, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.