Show Wesper meet

Part 15

Wylan's POV: 

"Does that look like a glass factory to you?"

Another mission- as though the one the previous night hadn't been dangerous enough. 

But here Wylan was, Standing in-front of what was officially factory business of Pekka Rollin's which, turned out to be nothing more than a manor in the countryside.

"Well, we have our answer then. There's no glass factory in Applebrooke,  so we tell Kaz that Pekka's been laundering money from his country estate." 

They watched a group of men haul some boxes from the back of a carriage, and drag them inside the manor, disappearing from their view.

 Keep it simple. Keep it clean. Wylan had already found himself buried in too much crime and every day was a step further into the dangerous world of the dregs. He did not want to go any further than he had to.

But Jesper had other plans. The boy stared through the gate with a piqued interest and the traces of a smile playing across his lips. "Question is," he gave Wylan a look, "What are  those guards guarding?"

No. Absolutely not. Wylan faced him with an exasperated stare. It seemed all Jesper ever wanted to do was dive head first into danger. " You're gonna make me go in there, aren't you?"

The boys grin widened and he gave a nonchalant shrug. " Breaking in's the best part,"  He said.

Of course he would think that. Jesper fahey, Ketterdams's best sharpshooter and worst gambler- always just a dice roll from death. He gave Wylan a fleeting pat on the shoulder before striding away.

Wylan frowned at himself as the boy left. He wanted to leave. To tell Kaz what information they had and be done with it. But something about the way his heart fluttered at the touch of Jesper's hand on his shoulder told him that he was a lost cause in the situation.

He turned to follow Jesper through the gate.

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The house was big and clean, riddled with servants they ducked to avoid. It reminded Wylan painfully of his own home, especially when they walked through a wooden arch into a small room with a piano.

Wylan's eyes widened at the sight of it. A small, dusty thing but an instrument that brought back so many memories. How long had it been since he had last played?

He flicked through sheets of music, his fingers running over the smooth wood and eventually landing on a yellow ivory key that was stuck down. He tapped it a few times but no sound arose. Memories and melodies danced through his head as he examined the object, remembering patterns and the steady flow of his fingers against the keys of his own piano. He had forgotten that Jesper was in the room still until the boy spoke.

"I'd still like to know why you didn't tell me." 

 Wylan looked up slightly, "Tell you what?"

" That we'd met before?"

He refused to meet Jesper's gaze. He kept his focus on the piano, his mouth going dry as he searched for an adequate response.

" You didn't remember me," 

 What did he have to bring it up now? Jesper stared at him with dark, familiar, stormy eyes and Wylan thought he might die there and then.

" In my defence, it was dark- and, when I woke up you were gone." The boy said.

Jesper made to move but was alerted at a noise behind them. Both boys looked around, through the doorway but Jesper barred Wylan with his arm, leaning over to pick up a paper from a stack Wylan hadn't bothered to take notice of.

It was a picture. Two figures, a small boy and an older man, with a beard- Pekka Rollins.

A child's drawing. There were words scrawled in messy child's handwriting across the page but Wylan could not make out what they said. The symbols swayed and blurred in his vision and he had to look away from the image.

That's when the heavy-footed padding of two small feet waddled into the room. He was a small, plump boy in a garish combination of yellows shorts, a mustard waistcoat and a small bow at his neck. 

The boy in the picture.

" Master Rollins, Alby!" A voice came from round a corner, closely followed by a smart woman with a simple buttoned up dress and tight white collar. Her smile dropped as she looked upon the two of them, standing there dumbly infront of her.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" 

Wylan's throat was too dry to form an answer and apparently Jesper was at a loss as well.

The woman did not hesitate, " Hein, come quick!" She shouted round the room, as a burly, and sour looking man stepped into view, much taller and stronger than the two of them combined.

He watched Jesper's fingers play around the holster of his guns, preparing for a quick escape. He thought back to the instrument in the other room.

"W- we're from Hop'N'Sons," Wylan managed, "Tuning and repairs!"

He flapped open his coat, revealing pockets of various tools and equipment used for building bombs. Jesper looked at him, relief wearing across his features as he stumbled out an excuse.

"We're here to fix the piano, Mr Rollins sent us."

The woman's apprehension melted into a relieved calm. " oh, well, quit doddling and get in with it, Master Rollins has piano lessons tomorrow."

The two of them nodded furiously, turning to the old instrument in anxious relief. 

Wylan examined the thin metal wire of the piano, sliced straight in two. "Someone's cut this, it's too clean," he whispered to Jesper at his shoulder. Jesper raised his eyebrows before turning to the young boy.

" Hey, did you cut this wire?"

He gave the boy a pointed look and winked as the lady said, " How dare you accuse him, he's a child!"

But the child gave a gleeful grin," Yeah, I did. I hate piano."

Jesper laughed, both at the boy and the woman's exasperation.

"Well," he said," You should know, whatever he cut that with, very sharp." 

The woman scowled and clasped her hands together, "If the wire's a problem, I presume you have a replacement?"

" Yeah, of course," Wylan said with a confidence hedid not possess.

 He turned back to the piano, shoulder touching Jesper's as the stared at the split string. "We don't," he murmured, panicking. 

Jesper made a soft noise, suggesting he had something he could do so Wylan turned away, waiting, praying for the boy to come up with some miracle to get them out of this mess.

He rested a hand on the back of his neck," Beautiful weather we're having, isn't it?" And then immediately cringed at his own words, desperately hurrying Jesper in his mind. Whatever the sharpshooter was doing, he had better do it faster.

Finally, a ping. The key echoed from the piano and Wylan turned to see the newly melded wire in one piece. 

"How?"