Freckles and charcoal
Even before the beginning of the impossible feat, getting out from the Ice Court with the crazy Shu who decided to create a weapon of mass destruction, Jesper felt like everything was already going wrong.
That morning, while Hendriks went to the University District to recover the materials he needed for his explosives, Jesper had an unpleasant encounter with one of the Dime Lions. Jesper wasn't used to being cornered, he hadn't had time to get his hands on the revolvers before the man slammed him into a wall. He felt really pathetic begging Rollin's henchman for mercy. He promised that, in a few days, he'd be back from a job outside Ketterdam with a huge sum. It was humiliating, but, right now, the only thing he could think of was the face his Da' would make if they lost the farm.
From then on, Jesper had been pretty quiet. Even in the lab, when he found Jan Van Eck's letter on the floor, he stayed silent. In truth, he didn't have the time to ask questions because Hendriks snatched the envelope from his hands and hurried out without saying a single word. After a couple of hours the merchling came back and spent the rest of the day preparing an enormous amount of bombs. They hadn't talked since then.
Jesper mentioned the letter to Kaz, but the only thing the boss did was getting Inej to follow the merchling, to make sure there was no last-minute reconciliation between father and son. And probably nothing like that happened given that Hendriks, that evening, was on the dock, ready to leave with the rest of the crew.
It was right on that dock that Jesper had finally understood how dangerous what they were doing was. He was ready for the shootouts, for the blood, for the screams. But he wasn't prepared to see Inej unconscious, lying on a table for days, struggling to survive. Nina, next to her, looked immensely tired. Jesper often brought her snacks, but the Grisha could never really get distracted for too long or Inej would have risked dying right there, in a ship in the middle of the sea, before even reaching their destination.
I should have done something, I should have protected her… What if I don't get out of this madness alive? All this will be useless, I'll leave Da' full of debts and they'll take away our farm. I can't allow it, Ma' is still there. I really can't allow it.
It was hard to ignore the voice rumbling in his head, but on the Ferolind there was nothing to do but think. Jesper couldn't stop himself, not even for a second, his legs carried him from the stern to the bow and back, again and again, looking for any distraction. He would have given anything to forget for a moment that rush of anxious thoughts, but there was no one willing to help him. Nina surely couldn't do anything for him, she was busy keeping Inej alive, Matthias wasn't entertaining, he spent his time muttering complaints in Fjerdian, while Kaz, who already wasn't sociable, stopped talking to anyone since Inej was injured.
The only one left was Hendriks, who was probably even more tense than Jesper. The merchling sat on the deck, with his back against the railing. His curly head bent over the sketches of the Ice Court that he drew himself. He obsessively went over the plans again and again, while nervously biting his thumb.
"Will you help me review the action plan?" He had asked Jesper suddenly with his head still on the papers.
"Please, you already know that by heart. You could repeat it backwards, upside down, with Inej throwing knives at you." Jesper sat next to him. "I just need something to keep me from being bored out of my mind or I swear I'll jump off the railing before dinner time."
"Actually, we still have to have lunch." Hendriks had finally looked up from his drawings.
"Are you joking? I thought it was already afternoon, what time is it?"
"10.15 in the morning."
"What?! I can't take it anymore. If I polish my guns another time, they will become transparent".
"That's not how metal works."
"Sure, because you know everything."
"There's no one in the world who knows everything, but I'd like to understand how your guns work. Can I disassemble them?"
"Stay away from me." Jesper instinctively reached for his holsters to protect his treasures.
"Don't worry, I was just messing with you. Although…"
"Although?"
"You don't need them now. Give me just one of them, I promise I'll give it back to you as new."
"No, over my dead body." The merchling laughed and Jesper smiled at the change. Hendriks was usually silent, or frowning, or worried. The wholesome laugh was new and it was cute.
"Did I manage to distract you a bit?" Hendriks asked. He leaned his head against the railing, his blue eyes squinted against the sunlight while looking at Jesper.
"If your goal was to relieve my anxiety, you managed to create another one. Now I'm going to be constantly scared you stole my guns and destroyed them."
"You're such a drama queen." Hendriks rolled his eyes with an amused grin.
Jesper's eyes widened, he held his breath for a second before placing a hand on his chest in a theatrical gesture and saying indignantly, "Me?! A drama queen?!"
Hendriks chuckled again. Jesper hadn't noticed it before, but those few days in the sea must have given him more freckles. "Okay, no disassembly of your revolvers. I give up. So what do you suggest?"
"Let's talk about that letter." Hendriks stiffened. Jesper hadn't asked any questions, but at this point it had become impossible to ignore the matter. "What does daddy say? Everything fine at home?"
"I don't know, I haven't opened it." Hendriks looked away, it was clear he didn't want to talk.
"You didn't open it?"
"No". Hendriks rummaged in his backpack and pulled out the same envelope Jesper had found in the lab. "You see? Still sealed."
The sealing wax was in fact intact. "How should I know you haven't closed it again? You could've melted the wax enough to close it again".
"You, of all people, would have known right away." It was true, any Durast could have done it. With a touch of a finger on the wax he would immediately know. Jesper was aware of that, but Hendriks should have no idea. Yet the way he had marked 'you' made Jesper feel like a finger pointed at him.
"Why, of all people, should I know?" Jesper instinctively became defensive. Whenever he suspected that someone knew his secret, he couldn't help it. Hendriks had an indecipherable look, but Jesper bore the weight of those blue eyes on him.
"Because you're such a busybody." Hendriks winced at him and Jesper felt the tension ease.
"Maybe you're right. I would have opened it in no time. I don't understand how you can carry it around without going crazy".
"There's no point in doing that". Hendriks just shrugged. "You can have it if you want. I don't really care." Without hesitation the merchling handed him the letter.
"Are you sure?" Jesper asked suspiciously, Hendriks nodded in response. Jesper took the envelope and put it carefully in his pocket. He would give it to Kaz later. It was the smartest thing to do.
"Do you want to play cards?" Hendriks offered him out of the blue.
"Would you play cards with me? No one ever wants to." Now that sure seemed like a tempting distraction for Jesper.
"Why?"
"Find out for yourself." Jesper didn't need Hendriks to repeat twice, he pulled the card deck that he always carried with him from the inside pocket of his coat. The merchling's eyes followed his hands as they shuffled the cards quickly and dealt them out.
"Can you explain the rules to me?"
"Oh, merchling, if you ask me with such a cute face how can I say no?" He winked at him and couldn't help but grin when Hendriks' cheeks turned pink. If there was one thing Jesper realized during those days on the Ferolind it was that it was really fun to flirt with the merchling. He couldn't resist the temptation to tease him a little more. "Why don't we play strip poker?" Jesper was delighted with the deep red coloring of Hendriks' ears.
"If you really want to see me naked, at least ask me out on a date first." His cheeks had possibly darkened even more, he was clearly embarrassed but the answer made Jesper burst out laughing.
"Oh well, you can't blame me for trying." Jesper shrugged playfully. "Come on, now stay focused because I'm about to introduce you to the magic world of cards.
Perhaps challenging the merchling to play cards was a mistake. Jesper had no idea how, but he was losing every round. After a first game to explain the mechanism, Hendriks had accumulated one victory after another. Beginner's luck was starting to be a lame excuse. Hendriks was able to read Jesper's every bluff, he didn't even need to stop for a second and think about it. Jesper had been watching him for a while, every time Hendriks drew a card he narrowed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. The umpteenth time Jesper saw him do it, he realized.
"Merchling, are you counting cards?" He asked.
"Yes," he said innocently, that damn doe-eyed trickster.
"I can not believe it. Who taught you that?"
"What do you mean? You told me how to play. I just thought that if I kept in mind the cards that had already come out, I could know what is still in the deck and calculate the probabilities of which ones you drew".
"That's called cheating."
"Oh, really? Is this cheating?"
"Yes, it is. That's the best way to get kicked out of a club. Saints, I created a monster".
"Maybe Kaz would be proud of me." Hendriks laughed satisfied.
"How the hell did you do it? Good thing we didn't play strip poker or I would have had to go to the Ice Court in my underwear." Jesper couldn't believe that innocent-faced kid had pulled such a trick on him. "You are a genius".
"No, I'm not." Suddenly Hendriks was frowning, still holding the cards tightly in his hands. He looked like he was doing everything he could to not meet Jesper's gaze.
"Stop with the humble play. If someone is good at something, they have to say it. As soon as I explained the rules to you, you immediately beat me. You completely rebuilt the Ice Court map with just Helvar's descriptions. Even Kaz complimented it. And then you know how to build bombs and only Saints know how".
"I don't know what to do with it. I don't even like chemistry that much. I'm a terrible demo man."
"That's nice to know, right before we break into a maximum security prison." Jesper tried to joke, but Hendriks didn't smile. "What do you like then?"
"Music, art". The merchling's expression softened. Just the thought of that must have lifted his spirits. "I like numbers and equations, because… they're not like words. They… They don't get mixed up."
"If only you could talk to girls in equations."
There was a silence that seemed to Jesper to be very long, Hendriks' eyes were once again staring at him. "Just girls?"
Jesper tried to hold back a smile, failing. "No. Not just girls."
The merchling covered his face with the cards, but Jesper could still see the blush on his cheeks. Then suddenly he lowered them and placed them in front of Jesper. Hendriks said triumphantly: "Royal Flush."
Jesper had indeed created a monster.
Everything happened so quickly that Jesper felt as if time slowed down. Only a few seconds, a change of perspective and suddenly he understood.
Jesper had seen the same bright blue eyes, the same untamable curly hair, the same shy smile for days and days, but it wasn't until the start of the shooting at the Ice Court that he finally connected the dots. Instinctively he threw himself at the merchling to protect him from bullets. But when he looked down, those freckles covered in soot from climbing the chimney immediately reminded him of Wylan's charcoal-stained freckles.
Jesper had seen them so many times when they were children. One day, a long time ago, he noticed a series of carriages coming and going from the uninhabited villa not far from the family farm. Jesper was only nine years old and he was curious. He wanted to see who had just moved into that beautiful and elegant house, but Mom and Dad had told him not to disturb the neighbors. That to Jesper seemed like a clear invitation to sneak out. So, as soon as his parents were distracted by the daily tasks in the farm, he ran towards the villa. He couldn't see much from the outside, the walls were too high and a thick hedge separated the house from the rest of the world. Jesper didn't think twice and climbed the tallest tree he could find. He leaned over a branch and saw a slender boy, dressed like a small adult, with a neat and clean shirt and a bow tie. His head was full of red golden curls and his nose pointed up, searching for something in the air. Jesper wondered what he was doing, then he noticed the butterfly the boy was following with his eyes. He seemed lonely. Jesper thought he looked like the prince from the story his Ma' read to him so many times before bed: a little sad boy, living alone in a beautiful castle.
They immediately became friends. Jes and Wy.
After that first meeting it didn't take long for Jesper to fabricate a key to open the back gate to the villa's garden. And from that moment on, every opportunity was good to take Wylan by the hand and drag him anywhere outside the house. The smile he made every time they walked through that little gate was so bright that Jesper wanted to take him away forever just to watch him smile like this for the rest of their life. They spent their time playing in the jurda fields, cooling off in the river, dozing under the willow trees. Sometimes Wylan brought his flute along and played music for Jesper. Other times, however, he brought papers and charcoal and drew everything he could. The leaves that fell from the trees, the dragonflies hopping on the placid water, the butterflies landing on the longest and greenest blades of grass.
And also Jesper. Jesper was actually one of his favorite subjects. He had often seen his own features in Wylan's notebooks. His eyes, his mouth, his hands. For a while he thought that it was Wylan's fault he grew up so cocky, because he always portrayed him as gorgeous. Wylan looked at him as if he were a mechanism he wanted to understand. His blue eyes studied Jesper in every little shape and then his slender fingers ran fast over the paper and created a charcoal copy of reality.
When Wylan was very concentrated he chewed on his thumb. It happened so often that sometimes he didn't realize his hands were stained with the charcoal and so he ended up covering his cheeks, his chin and his nose in charcoal. Jesper laughed at him and tried to clean him with his shirt, ending up making the situation even worse.
The memory was so clear in Jesper's mind. Freckles and charcoal on Wylan's face. Ten years later he saw the same freckles stained by the black of the soot. But this time they weren't in the middle of a cool meadow in Novyi Zem, they were on the freezing floor of the Court of Ice, bullets above their heads, Inej not far from them, attempting to maneuvering the tank in which, in a few minutes, they would flee from that hell.
There hadn't been time to think about it. It had all been too fast. Somehow they all survived, they escaped the Ice Court and crossed the city aboard the tank. Nina destroyed Jarl Brum's army and herself in the effort. For what seemed like an eternity there had been unbearable noise, screams, gunfire, panic. But now that they had sailed and around them there was only the sea, the silence was even more loud. Jesper finally had a moment to think, but in his head there was only guilt and confusion.
Nina sacrificed herself for all of them and Jesper let her do it. Jesper was as much a Grisha as she was, he could have been the one to put himself in danger. Yet Nina was the one struggling to survive the drug. The Ferolind's deck was empty and Jesper was lonely, but it was never going to be as bleak as the cabin where Nina was screaming in pain. Matthias was probably holding her hand through the suffering, if that's any consolation.
And then there was Wylan. Jesper couldn't believe he'd been so blind for so long. From the first moment he met him he had the impression that there was something he should have guessed, but he couldn't put a name to it. Now he knew the name he was looking for: Wylan. Jesper was sure of it, that merchling was the Wy from his memories. But then why hadn't he said anything? Wylan didn't recognize him, either?
He needed to talk about it, to say everything out loud. He knew that he should wait, they were all exhausted from the heist, but if he had to stay still and silent for one more second, he would have exploded. There was only one person on that ship who would listen to him, so he made his way to the infirmary where Inej was treating herself. They no longer had their Grisha to heal her, but her wounds had to be treated and the medicines would do their job for now.
Jesper was already hurtling, when he heard Wylan's voice from below deck: "Kaz, I need to talk to you". He saw him slip into the captain's cabin and slam the door shut behind him.
It wasn't his usual tone. Especially not in front of Kaz. Jesper would have expected a soft, cautious and polite 'can I talk to you,' but that almost sounded like an order and it was strange to hear it from Wylan's mouth.
Jesper was tired of thinking so much, so he did what he did best: he acted. He strode to the door and gently opened it, just enough for the voices to pass through it.
"No, I won't lengthen the route for you. Also, we need you in Ketterdam for the meeting with your father. After that you can go wherever you like, for all I care." It seemed that they had already started arguing. Kaz's voice was tired and hoarse, but it still sounded like a threat.
"You have to listen to me. You can't use me to blackmail my father, it won't work," Wylan was practically pleading.
"You've already told me this, but I don't waste an ace in the hole just because a kid throws a tantrum." Kaz didn't seem to give in at all to Wylan's imploring tone.
"Kaz, please let me off at Novyi Zem." Jesper's heart skipped a beat when he heard Wylan say his home name. Or maybe it was better to say 'their' home.
"You delude yourself into thinking that there is room for bargaining here, let me remind you that you are practically a hostage. You have no decision-making power."
"I've done my part, let me go. I can do nothing more for you and I cannot go back to Ketterdam."
"I'm not known for being a patient person and if you weren't an essential part of the plan, I would have already thrown you overboard by now."
"Just do it. I'd rather be a castaway than see my father again". There was almost a note of disgust and fear in his words.
"If you hate your father so much, why did you take this job?"
"Because I needed the money! Like everyone here!" Wylan snapped. Jesper could feel the frustration in the way the words trembled in his throat. "Besides, I didn't have much choice, did I? I'm your hostage."
"You don't need money, go home to daddy and you'll have as much as you want."
"You do not understand!" Wylan sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
"I think you're the one who doesn't understand." Kaz paused, Jesper heard footsteps approaching and held his breath. "I read the letter."
Another pause, longer this time. Then Wylan whispered softly, "What does it say?"
"So you really haven't read it."
"What does it say?" Wylan repeated, this time with a clear sob.
Jesper heard paper clattering. He pictured Kaz's gloved hands unfolding the letter and then he heard him re, "'My son, if you're reading this, then you know how much I wish to have you home. I suffer immensely knowing you are far away where I can't reach you. I pray that you read these words and think of all you've left behind. No father would want a son who doesn't answer his letters. Write to me soon and let me know when you'll be back. I will wait for you every day in the hope that you are safe and sound. With all my love, your father, Jan Van Eck'" Kaz paused for a few seconds before asking, "Touching, isn't it?"
If there was something Jesper didn't expect to hear right now it was the bitter laugh that came out of Wylan's mouth. "He can be so cruel," he said with a resigned sigh. "Kaz, I'm begging you. Let me get off at Novyi Zem.'
The footsteps matched by the cane's clanking got further and further away, until Jesper heard the sound of a chair being moved. "I'm frankly tired of hearing you repeat that. What do you think, Jes? Should I give him a lifeboat and leave him to his fate?"
Jesper froze. He must have known Kaz would notice him, he probably knew it from the start. He sighed and entered the cabin. Wylan looked petrified, Kaz unconcerned.
"Why Novy Zem?" Jesper sought Wylan's eyes, but, as soon as he recovered from the surprise, he hid his face. Jesper could still see the red on the nose and the eyes. He was probably silently crying and didn't want Jesper to see.
"Why do you care?" he asked defensively.
"Wy…" At the nickname, Wylan turned abruptly towards him. "Why do you want to go back to Novyi Zem? Who do you want to go back to?"
The silence lasted a moment, then Wylan ran towards Jesper and wrapped his arms around his torso. "How long have you known?" The question came muffled from against his chest, where Wylan had hidden his face.
"For a short time". It was natural for Jesper to place his hands on Wylan's back and squeeze him back. "You knew it? Why didn't you say anything?"
But Wylan didn't answer. Several seconds passed before Jesper felt Wylan's grip lighten and then suddenly release. With a quick movement he had moved away from him, now he was against a corner of the room and was aiming a revolver against his temple. Jesper's hands darted to his holsters. One of them was empty.
"Wylan, stop! What are you doing? Put it down!" Panic made Jesper scream.
"Let me off the ship alive, or you must bring me back to Ketterdam dead." Wylan had his eyes on Kaz, paying no attention to Jesper.
"If you want to die so much, be my guest." Dirtyhands shrugged. He looked at him like he was just another nuisance to take care of.
"I don't want to die. But if you hand me back to my father, he'll kill me. If I have to die, I'd rather do it alone." It was clear that Wylan was out of his mind, but Jesper knew that a frightened person can make foolish decisions.
"Wy, stop it," he tried to get his attention.
"And you'd be satisfied with that?" Kaz asked, he looked genuinely curious.
"Satisfied?" Wylan seemed to think about it.
"Do you think you'll take away from him the pleasure of killing you with his own hands? What's the point? What would it change? If your father wants you dead and you kill yourself, just play along with him. Either way, he wins. If you're satisfied with that, just do it. Pull the trigger"
"Kaz, for Saints sake. This is not a game, stop playing with people's lives."
"Shut it, Jesper." Kaz's black eyes incinerated him before returning to Wylan. "I've got a better proposal for you, merchling. Collaborate with me one last time, I promise you it will be much more pleasant than splattering your little brain on my cabin's walls".
Wylan was so focused on Kaz's words that for a moment Jesper noticed the hesitation of his fingers on the trigger. In the blink of an eye he acted; he lunged at Wylan and with a fast move he touched the revolver: the chamber opened and all the bullets fell at their feet. Wylan immediately looked for an escape, but Jesper was quicker and blocked him before he could do any more damage.
"Jes… Please… Let me go" Wylan's breath was caught in his grip, but Jesper had no intention of releasing him.
Kaz closed the distance between them, now he was a step away from Wylan's nose. "Listen to what I have to offer. One last deal, then you'll be free to do whatever you want with your useless life.'
Wylan had given up on struggling, too tired to fight back he stared at Kaz in silence, until after a long sigh he said: "Matthias is right. You are a demon."
Kaz's mouth quirked in that notorious grin of his that made the entire Barrel shudder. "Jesper, let him go," he ordered drily.
Jesper released his grip cautiously, ready to some reaction, but Wylan did nothing. Jesper saw him relax his shoulders and fill his lungs with air. Only then was he able to relax, too. Jesper breathed regularly again.
"Try to make a scene like that again and I will be the one to take away the satisfaction of killing you from Jan Van Eck. And I promise you that, between the three of us, I would be the least merciful.' Kaz looked at Wylan without showing any feelings. Jesper wondered how it was possible to keep that stoic face in a situation like that. Then Kaz raised his icy gaze at him: "Get out. And this time, make sure the door is closed properly."
At that threat Jesper stepped out of the cabin, he threw one last look at Wylan, but couldn't meet his eyes, he kept them low on the floor. He was trembling, maybe for fear, maybe for anger.
When Jesper closed the door as ordered, he realized that his hands were shaking as well. He took a deep breath. He really needed a strong drink.