Chapter Text
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Jesper tapped his foot impatiently, waiting to be let in. He twirled his guns as he wondered how Wylan would react to seeing him. Not that he cared, obviously. He was a mystery, though, that one.
Finally, the door creaked open and a ginger haired boy poked his head out. A pair of sky blue eyes looked up at Jesper questioningly.
Wylan was in a threadbare white shirt, stained by various chemicals, and had goggles on his head. They wore a loose pair of pants and coffee colored boots.
He adjusted his hat.“I’m here to pick up Kaz’s orders.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait then. I’m not done, I still need to fix the trigger on the smoke bomb.” He said, shrugging.
Jesper stared at him incredulously. He still had a job that night. “You’ve had three days!”
“Being a demo man is trial and error! Look.” They gestured at the mess surrounding them. Several scorch marks decorated the walls, and several pieces of what used to be clothing (now rags) were discarded on the floor.
“Whatever” Jesper said, letting himself in.
“It’ll only take a few minutes.” Pointing to the bed, he said,“You can sit over there.” With that, he went to sit at a “work table” (a piece of wood sitting on four or five boxes in the middle of his room, his bed pushed to a corner).
Instead of sitting down, Jesper decided to walk around his room, picking up pieces of paper or vials of chemicals as he went.
“What’s this do?” He asked, examining a pink and green vial of powder.
“To find out, you’d need to lose a few fingers, and your sense of sight.” Came the response.
Wylan laughed as Jesper scrambled to put the vial down. “I was only joking. Though seriously, that took twelve hours to make. If you don’t wanna wait any longer than you have to, don’t touch my things.”
Huffing, he sat the vial safely on the table, and went back to looking around Wylan’s room. It was small with stains and leaks from the pipes all over the walls. Looking over at his bed, he saw something interesting.
“You play the flute?” He asked as he walked over to pick up the instrument. “Wait. You remember how to play the flute?”
Wylan’s head snapped up. “Yeah. Put it down.” He said, ears tinged pink.
Putting it down, Jesper wanted to ask him to play something. But the again, it was probably too soon for that. Instead, he said,“You remember how to play a fiddle but not who your family is?”
“It’s a flute!” They snapped. “Also, it’s really none of your business.”
Yikes, Jesper thought, Definitely a sore subject. Time to change the topic.
“Are you done yet?” He sighed, checking his nonexistent watch.
“Be patient” and “I’d be faster if you stopped annoying me” were the only things he said.
Finally, Wylan tied up the parcel and handed it to him. “Don’t shake it so much. Stop holding it like that, unless you don’t want to be able to sit for a month. Also, return these wrappings afterwards. I need something to put the next batch in.”
“Bossy” He said, “Take care, Hendriks. Don’t lose any fingers.”
“You too.” Wylan smiled, closing the door after him.
—
“I don’t understand, Kaz” Inej zaid. “Why Wylan? How do we even know he’s really Van Eck’s son? We might have the wrong boy.” She plopped off his desk, gracefully pulling herself up the windowsill.
“I’m sure.” Kaz didn’t look up from his papers. “But don’t tell him anything yet.”
She blinked and paused. Kaz had his reasons, as always, but she couldn’t say she always understood them. “Right. Jan Van Eck’s son hasn’t been seen in the public eye for years. And even if this is the Mercher’s son, why wouldn’t Van Eck say anything? You’d think there would be missing posters all over Ketterdam.”
Kaz sighed. “I don’t know, Inej. But I intend to find out if this is some game he’s playing. Based on our conversation yesterday, however, I don’t think he remembers anything. He wasn’t lying, which is more concerning.”
She lifted an eyebrow but took her time to respond, going back to feeding the crows outside his window. “I never thought you were the type to be worried over the council’s children.”
“It could lead them to start poking around the Barrel, nothing more.”
Inej looked out the window at the door of the slat, seeing Jesper’s bright silhouette downstairs. “Jesper’s here. It’s time to go.”
—
Wylan opened the door. Two unfamiliar men stood outside his room. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I’ve met you—”
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shirt and shoved him against the wall. Another pressed a knife against his throat.
“Who are you?” He shook him by the collar as he spoke. Ironic, Wylan thought, That was his question too.
“You have the wrong person.” He said instead, “I don’t know who you’re looking for but it isn’t me.”
He pressed the knife tighter against his throat. “Answer us. What do you know?” Many people wanted to know who he was these days, it seemed. Kaz, Jesper, himself, and now these two.
He spit in their face. “I told you. I. Don’t. Know. Anything.”
A pair of brass knuckles cuffed him hard across the face. Blood streamed down the side of his head.
“Wrong answer.”
Wylan was starting to get light headed. His satchel. It was on the floor a few feet away from him. He dropped to the floor.
“Shit.” The taller one murmured. “Did you kill him, prior? He wanted him alive, skiv!”
“I didn’t—”
While the two argued over what to do, Wylan stuck his hand around the bag, desperately trying to ignore the blood pooling on the ground and the black spots dancing in his eyes.
His hand brushed over a small bomb. Perfect. Wylan pulled the trigger and threw it at them. Deep blue smoke filled the room.
“Fuck! Where is he?”
Holding his breath, Wylan shoved them and ran out the room. Running through the Barrel, there was only one place he could go. He needed to find the dregs.