"Watch out!" Jesper grabs Wylan's shoulder and pushes him behind his back protectively while clutching at his pistols, aiming in the other direction.
"What the..." Wylan peeks out from under Jesper's raised arm but he can't see anything suspicious. Only the late evening streets of Ketterdam with its people strolling around, not paying attention to the two boys even if one of them is waving a gun around.
"What happens?" Wylan asks, intently focused on keeping a calm note to his voice. He fails horribly. He sounds like the squeaking of a frightened mouse and even if he doesn't like Jesper very much he's truly thankful to have him and his pistols around. But what the hell did he see?
"Jesper," Wylan whispers when the sharpshooter didn't react to his first question. Only now he lowers his guns, turns around slowly and bending down to bring his mouth close to Wylan's ear: "See this guy over there?" Wylan looks in the direction Jesper points and he catches sight of a young man, standing next to a shop door, chatting with the owner.
"He doesn't look dangerous," he whispers back but Jesper shakes his head in disappointment.
"Haven't you noticed that he was watching you just a second ago," he says reproachfully standing up again. Damn, he was too tall for Wylan to be comfortable. Looking up at him makes him feel even more like the child Jesper and the other Dregs treat him like.
"Why should he do that?" Wylan grumbles. "It's not that I'm super interesting."
"Oh, it depends," Jesper suggests conversationally while putting his guns back in their holsters.
"On what?" Wylan snorts.
"Don't know," Jesper answers, shrugging his shoulders. "Could be one of your father's man, couldn't he?" Wylan compresses his lips.
"I doubt it," he says, trying to stay cool and not thinking about his father for too long. He just wants to put all of this behind. But how can he when all people around him seem to have made it their mission to remind him of his parentage? And besides: Jesper may be right. A cold shiver runs down his spine and he just wants to suggest sneaking off when Jesper talks again.
"You know what? Let's find out!" The words drip through Wylan's darkening thoughts and he needs a second to realise what the other just said. And a second is a long time for someone as fidgety as Jesper. Before Wylan could have said a word of caution, the sharpshooter is already casually heading towards the stranger.
"Jesper, wait!" Wylan hisses and follows him with pounding heart.
"Sorry to interrupt," Jesper breaks in on the conversation without hesitation, a broad smile on his face. "May I ask if you had stared at my companion a moment ago?" The young man knits his brows.
"Why do you care?" he asks provocatively and crosses his arms. He's nearly as tall as Jesper and as the sharpshooter's fingers start to fiddle around the triggers of his guns, the stranger slides his hands into his pockets. Wylan can't see what he's reaching for in there, but he lived long enough in the Barrel to assume that it has to be some kind of weapon.
"Jesper, let's just… Kaz said we should stay out of anything… risky," he begs and feels miserable. Jesper darts a glance at him over his shoulder.
"I'm pretty sure, I've never heard Kaz say something so stupid," he says with a smirk. "He said we should stay out of gambling dans but I neither see a table nor a deck anywhere, so – no broken rule here."
"You," Wylan hisses suddenly disgruntled. Jesper looks irritated.
"What?"
"YOU should stay out of gambling halls," Wylan corrected him. "I'm not in danger to lose all our money in such a place." He isn't sure why he's suddenly so mad at Jesper but this whole situation feels like the most unnecessary trouble they could have gotten themselves into. Besides he still doesn't know what Jesper is up to or why he even bother to mess with this stranger. They just could have passed by and probably nothing had happened at all.
"Our little Merchling, always so anxious to stick to the rules", Jesper grimaces, before he turns back to face the stranger again.
"So back to business," he says. "Why did you look at this innocent little boy." Wylan growls but he keeps his thoughts to himself. What he surely doesn't want is to add fuel to the fire. The other man smiles, than he steps around Jesper, ignoring his pistols, directly facing Wylan, and puts out his hand.
"May I introduce myself," he says while Wylan stares perplexed at him and his extended hand. What in the name of the saints was going on here? But the stranger continues, still smiling brightly: "My name is Marek van Goot, but my friends call me Mark – and you should be careful never to walk where I'm watching."
Wylan hears Jesper laughing before the comprehension seeps into his mind that he has been fooled all along. The laughter of Jesper and the other guy rings like the sharp barking of hyenas in his ears and he feels that his eyes instantly well up with tears. He wants to say something, shout at their stupid faces that their joke was childish and ridiculous and doesn't concern him at all. The problem is: It does.
And so he sticks to the only thing that ever brought him out of situations he can't manage without breaking into tears. He runs away. Runs and runs as fast as his legs carry him through the crowded streets, down to the harbour. Unfortunately Jesper's legs are so much longer than his and as Wylan stops and sinks down on some stairs at the docks to gasp for breath a hand touches his shoulder.
Wylan jumps up and spins around, ducking away from the touch. His glance lands on Jesper whose crouching a few steps above him. When there eyes meet there's an instant look of guilt on Jesper's face.
"I… I'm sorry, it was a stupid joke," he stumbles and his eyes are wide and full of compassion. He really looks like he hadn't wanted to upset Wylan that much. Now he sinks down on the steps, raking his fingers through his hair. "I never thought it will.. I'm sorry."
"Maybe next time it would help to think before you have your fun at the expense of other people," Wylan sniffles, trying to sound more sulky than hurt, but his anger and pain are already fading away as quickly as they appeared. Maybe he overreacted. He knows that he has to become much tougher if he wants to be part of Kaz's crew. Especially with everything that lays before them. Much tougher. Much, much tougher.
"Thinking before doing something isn't one of my strong points," Jesper admits, scratching his head, trying to give Wylan an abashed smile.
"Good thing that Kaz paired you up with me," Wylan retorts. "I'm normally thinking everything through until the opportunity is gone."
"Wow, we're going to make a great team," Jesper grins sheepishly and Wylan returns his grin while brushing the tears away, that still stick to his cheeks and that seem ridiculous now that they are already smiling at each other again. Again? Well, maybe for the first time.
"I… I didn't wanted to hurt you, okay?" Jesper says. "It's just… Kaz normally doesn't trust people that quickly and now he brings an absolute newbie without any survival instinct not only to the Dregs but to this super secret and dangerous Ice Court mission? You have to admit, that there are a lot of reasons to be sceptical."
"I know," Wylan answers quickly, "but…" He swallows hard, than he continues, his gaze locked on the toes of his shoes. "The first time in my life I feel like I'm somewhere where I could belong. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow but one day," he mumbles. It's the first time that he's talking about that feeling and he'd never have thought that Jesper of all people would become the person listening to these words. But it feels right. In this moment. With him. "I want to be part of this. I want to… to show you all that I'm worth it. That Kaz didn't made a mistake in choosing me. Not because of my father and where I come from but… because of myself. And who I could be." There's a long silence following and Wylan peeps up at Jesper to make sure he's still there. But his normally blithely face is unfamiliarly serious and his look absent.
"I understand," he says finally and when he smiles it's not his usual devil-may-care grin. It's somewhat softer. Gentler. In a way almost vulnerable.
They stare at each other for a ridiculously long time but for some reason it doesn't feel awkward at all. Quite the contrary it feels kind of natural. 'Grey,' Wylan thinks astonished. 'His eyes are grey.' Had he ever met a person with eyes coloured like that? He can't remember. But what he knows is, that he is absolutely ready to drown in this grey eyes.
"Always hit where the mark isn't looking," he thinks in surprise while listening to the fast beating of his heart.