Wylan found him outside a gambling hall, smoking something.

He watched Jesper take long drags from the drug from a distance. He stayed hidden in the shadows until the glowing embers at the end had become next to nothing. Then he crossed the street, dodging a speedy cart.

Weddle was the largest city in the land, as far as Wylan knew. And he knew quite a bit. A blue fog settled over this town just like Ketterdam. It was much colder though, but nothing like the Ice Court.

As Wylan stumbled onto the curb, Jesper turned away, unaware that he was even being watched.

Kaz and their adventure in Fjerda has made Wylan stealthier than before. The rest of the Dregs could mock him and tease him about street smarts but he had just managed to sneak up on a sharpshooter.

"Jesper."

Sneaky, yes. Quick, he was not.

The barrel of Jesper's gun was at his forehead, it's cold metal freezing him all over.

"Wylan?"

Wylan forced his eyes open.

"Uh, yes."

"What are you doing in Novyi Zem?"

"I could ask you just the same."

"I have a gun to your forehead and you have a knife in your sock," Jesper countered. "So answer."

"Looking for you."

"Did Kaz send you?"

"I wanted to come."

Jesper yanked the gun back, spinning it as he holstered it. He reached into his other pocket, pulling out another one of the jurda sticks. He struck a match against the stone wall and for a moment a hesitant flame lit both their faces, intensifying their glares at one another.

"You shouldn't smoke," Wylan said.

"And you shouldn't be here," Jesper said with the jurda between his teeth. "But here we are."

"Kaz wants you back," Wylan said, not bothering to spare Jesper any fluff this time. If he wanted business, fine.

"And you?"

"I told you. I know it was an accident."

"A careless mistake," Jesper mumbled, as if quoting someone.

"But hiding away in Weddle, burying yourself in more debt--"

"Hey," Jesper snapped, stepping up to Wylan. His eyes were flaming now. "That's enough."

"Come back," Wylan said, allowing a little undertone of begging. "Please. Kaz, he's got another thing planned and he's not going to pull it off without you."

"Then why didn't Kaz come?"

"I asked to come. I told him he needed you and he realized it on his own. The Dregs are down," Wylan said. "Kaz is distracted with everything and there's no second anymore. Kaz can't replace you, Jesper."

Jesper inhaled the jurda smoke, his mind thinking. He wore his thoughts on his face.

"I can't leave tonight."

"I didn't expect to," Wylan said.

"I've got one last game to win." He dropped the jurda and stalked down the alleyway. Wylan scrambled to follow him.

Jesper kicked in a door, and sound tumbled out into the alleyway. The flicking of cards was the most predominant but the sound of clinking coins and chips was the most enticing.

"You sit on the sides. You're silent. You don't look at me or they'll think I'm cheating," Jesper said softly as they passed a table, mid-game. Wylan left his side, finding a stool with a high table on the side. Jesper sat himself down with all the confidence in the world, tossing a couple coins into the middle of the table.

He was hopeless with cards and gambling, so he didn't try to follow. He wanted to watch Jesper, to see how his lips might twitch when he got a good hand or how his eyes might glance over his neighbor's hand.

But he knew that Jesper was winning, and winning lots. The money kept piling high.

Wylan wanted to scream at him to call it a deal, but a gambling addict couldn't quit.

And if he lost the entire pot, this wouldn't be his final game. They'd be here all night.

Wylan had to get him to stop.

He knocked the table over, the glass left by a stranger on it shattered on the floor. It called the attention of the entire gambling hall. Wylan shook his head dramatically and raised his eyes, looking directly at Jesper for the first time.

"Oi!" someone shouted. A rather large man with more body ink than Wylan had ever seen, even in the Barrel, staggered into the light. "I saw that! Get that boy outta tha' game!" He pointed at Jesper, who was promptly yanked out of his chair by the back of his coat.

"Jesper's causing trouble again?" his captor asked.

"What? Me? Trouble?" Jesper rolled his eyes back. "Only when I'm armed."

Which, of course, he was.

The man holding Jesper dropped his grip as Jesper raised a gun to his head and another to the body of the massive man who caught them.

"Everyone just calm down. Wylan, exit the building; I'll be close behind."

Wylan slowly headed for the door, the scene around him frozen.

He stumbled into the alley, pulling his knife out of his sock. A second later the door burst open with Jesper sprinting out. Wylan didn't hesitate this time, following him as fast as he could. It was awkward running with the knife, but dodging pedestrians and vehicles was much harder he found.

"Run, Wylan!" Jesper shouted, almost gleefully.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this!" Wylan huffed as they began their trek up a hill. He turned his head back. They were still being followed.

They didn't stop until they were at a fork at the top of the intersection. Jesper caught him by the shoulders, shoving him into a shop on the right side.

"Shh," Jesper breathed as they made their way towards the back of the bakery, which was closed at such a late hour.

They climbed the stairs at the back and the sound of crying children and a uncomfortable thumping echoed in the stairwell as they passed a series of unmarked apartments.

They came to one door and Jesper unlocked it with a simple bronze key and a lot of fiddling.

It was one room, with a straw bed on the floor and a window. A candle sat on top of a crate near the bed.

"It's small but no one bothers me here," Jesper said, heading towards the window. "The second they do is the second I move out."

For the third time, he pulled a jurda stick out, lighting it and then the candle. With a shove, the window cracked open.

"I don't like the fact that you smoke," Wylan said, walking towards Jesper. He had an idea in his mind now and he wasn't about to give it up.

Jesper tossed him a sarcastic glare and Wylan plucked the jurda out from between his fingers, tossing it to the street below.

"You know, that's a fire hazard," Jesper said, watching it fall.

"The ground is too damp."

"Well, you are the explosives expert--" The second Jesper looked up, Wylan pressed his lips against Jesper's.

Jesper let out a gasp that only made Wylan want to kiss him more.

He did, pressing harder, and stepping a little closer to Jesper so the space between them was unmeasurable.

"I--" Jesper broke away, searching for air and words. "I--"

"Just say you'll come back," Wylan said, running his fingertips down Jesper's cheek. "I can't do it alone."

"Okay," Jesper agreed, his eyes searching for something in Wylan. "Okay, but you have to kiss me like that again."

"And you have to give up smoking," Wylan said. He could taste the prickling sweetness of the jurda smoke on his tongue. He'd never liked it.

"Agreed."

It was the easiest deal either of them had ever made in their lives.