𝐊𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐦, 𝟏𝟕𝟗𝟑

After their father died, plagued with a fever and a progressive skin rash that fled along his skin, appearing like a trail of damp red blossoms, Kaz had sold the farm. Not for much. The debts and liens had seen to that.

But it was enough to see them safe to Ketterdam and to keep them in modest comfort for a good while. Kaz had been 12, Juniper and Wylan 10, still missing Dad and frightened of travelling from the only home they'd ever known.

She and Wylan held tight to their big brother's hands as they journeyed through miles of sweet, rolling countryside, until they reached one of the major waterways and hopped a bogboat that carried produce to Ketterdam.

"What will happen when we get there?" They'd asked Kaz.

"I'll get a job as a runner at the Exchange, then a clerk. I'll become a stockholder and then a proper merchant, and then I'll make my fortune."

"What about us?"

"You will go to school."

"Why won't you go to school?" Kaz had scoffed. "I'm too old for school. Too smart, too."

The first few days in the city were all Kaz had promised. They'd walked along the great curve of the harbours known as the Lid, then down East Stave to see all the gambling palaces. They didn't venture too far south, where they'd been warned the streets grew dangerous. 

They let rooms in a tidy little boarding house not far from the Exchange and tried every new food they saw, stuffing themselves sick on quince candy. Juniper liked the little waffle stands where you could choose what you liked to put in them. 

Each morning, Kaz went to the Exchange to look for work and told the twins to stay in their room.

Ketterdam wasn't safe for children on their own. There were thieves and pickpockets and even men who would snap up little boys and girls and sell them to the highest bidder. So the twins stayed inside.

Kaz kneeled in front of the single bed in the room, where the twins sat as he tried to make coins disappear, just as he'd seen a magician do, performing in front of one of the gambling halls. Kaz could have watched him for hours, but eventually, he knew he had to get home.

The card tricks had been good, but the disappearing coin kept the twins up at night. How had the magician and Kaz done it? It had been there one moment, gone the next.

The disaster began with a wind-up dog. Kaz had come home hungry and irritable, frustrated after another wasted day. "They say they have no jobs, but they mean they have no jobs for a boy like me. Everyone there is someone's cousin or brother or best friend's son."

Both Juniper and Wylan hadn't been in a mood to try to cheer him up. They were grouchy after so many hours indoors with nothing but coins and cards to keep them company.

They wanted to go down to East Stave to find the magician. In the years after, Juniper would always wonder what might have happened if Kaz hadn't indulged them, if they'd gone to the harbour to look at boats instead, or if they'd simply been walking on the other side of the canal.

She wanted to believe that might have made the difference, but the older she got, the more she doubted it would have mattered at all.

They'd passed the green riot of the Emerald Palace, and right next door, in front of the Gold Strike, there'd been a boy selling little mechanical dogs. The toys wound up with a bronze key and waddled on stiff legs, tin ears flapping.

Wylan had crouched down, turning all the keys, trying to get all the dogs waddling at the same time, and the boy selling them had struck up a conversation with Kaz. As it turned out, he was from Keramzin, not two towns over from where Juniper, Wylan and Kaz had been raised, and he knew a man with jobs open for runners – not at the Exchange, but at an office just down the street.

Kaz should come by the next morning, he said, and they could go chat with him together. He'd been hoping to land a job as a runner, too.

On the way home, Kaz had bought them each a hot chocolate, not just one to share. "Our luck is changing," He'd said as they curled their hands around the steaming cups, feet dangling over a little bridge, the lights of the Stave playing over the water.

Juniper had looked down at their reflections on the bright surface of the canal and thought, I feel lucky now.

The boy who sold the mechanical dogs was named Filip and the man he knew was Jakob Hertzoon, a minor mercher who owned a small coffeehouse near the Exchange, where he arranged for low-level investors to split stakes in trade voyages passing through Kerch.

"You should see this place," Kaz had crowed to Juniper and Wylan upon arriving home late that night.

"There are people there at every hour, talking and trading news, buying and selling shares and futures, ordinary people – butchers and bakers and dockworkers. Mister Hertzoon says any man can become rich. All he needs is luck and the right friends."

The next five years were like a happy dream. Kaz and Filip worked for Mister Hertzoon as runners, carrying messages to and from the dock and occasionally placing orders for him at the Exchange or other trading offices.

While they were working, the twins were allowed to stay at the coffeehouse. The man who filled drink orders from behind the bar would let them sit up on the counter and practise their magic tricks, and gave them all the waffles they could eat.

They were invited to the Hertzoon home for dinner, a grand house on the Zelverstraat with a blue front door and white lace curtains in the windows. Mister Hertzoon was a big man with a ruddy, friendly face and tufty grey sideburns.

His wife, Margit, pinched Juniper's cheeks and fed her hutspot made with smoked sausage, and she and Wylan had played in the kitchen with their daughter, Saskia. She was Juniper's age, and Juniper thought she was the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen.

She and her brothers stayed late into the night singing songs while Margit played the piano, their big silver dog thumping its tail in hapless rhythm. It was the best Juniper had felt since her father died.

Mister Hertzoon even let Kaz put tiny sums down on company stocks. Kaz wanted to invest more, but Mister Hertzoon always advised caution. "Small steps, lad. Small steps."

Things got even better when Mister Hertzoon's friend returned from Novyi Zem. He was the captain of a Kerch trader, and it seemed he had crossed paths with a sugar farmer in a Zemeni port.

The farmer had been in his cups, moaning about how his and his neighbours' cane fields had been flooded. Right now sugar prices were low, but when people found out how hard it would be to get sugar in the coming months, prices would soar. Mister Hertzoon's friend intended to buy up all the sugar he could before the news reached Ketterdam.

"That seems like cheating," Wylan had whispered to Kaz. "It isn't cheating," Kaz had snorted. "It's just good business. And how are ordinary people supposed to move up in the world without a little extra help?"

Mister Hertzoon had Kaz and Filip place the orders with three separate offices to make sure such a large purchase didn't garner unwanted attention. News of the failed crop came in, and sitting in the coffeehouse, the siblings had watched the prices on the chalkboard rise, trying to contain their glee.

When Mister Hertzoon thought the shares had gone as high as they could go, he sent Kaz and Filip to sell out and collect. They'd returned to the coffeehouse, and Mister Hertzoon had handed both of them their profits straight from his safe.

"What did I tell you?" Kaz said to the twins as they headed out into the Ketterdam night. "Luck and good friends!"

Only a few days later, Mister Hertzoon told them of another tip he'd received from his friend the captain, who'd had similar word on the next crop of jurda.

"The rains are hitting everyone hard this year," Mister Hertzoon said. "But this time, not only the fields were destroyed, but the warehouses down by the docks in Eames. This is going to be big money, and I intend to go in heavy."

"Then we should, too," said Filip. Mister Hertzoon had frowned. "I'm afraid this isn't a deal for you, boys. The minimum investment is far too high for either of you. But there will be more trades to come!"

Filip had been furious. He'd yelled at Mister Hertzoon, told him it wasn't fair. He said Mister Hertzoon was just like the merchants at the Exchange, hoarding all the riches for himself, and called Mister Hertzoon names that had made the twins cringe.

When he'd stormed out, everyone at the coffeehouse had stared at Mister Hertzoon's red, embarrassed face. He'd gone back to his office and slouched down in his chair. "I ... I can't help the way business is done. The men running the trade want only big investors, people who can support the risk."

The twins and Kaz had stood there, unsure of what to do. "Are you angry with me, too?" asked Mister Hertzoon. Of course not, they assured him. Filip was the one who was being unfair.

"I understand why he's angry," said Mister Hertzoon. "Opportunities like this one don't come along often, but there's nothing to be done." "I have money," said Kaz.

Mister Hertzoon had smiled indulgently. "Kaz, you're a good lad, and some day I have no doubt you'll be a king of the Exchange, but you don't have the kind of funds these investors require."

Kaz's chin had gone up. "I do. From the sale of my father's farm."

"And I expect it's all you, Juniper and Wylan have to live on. That's not something to be risked on a trade, no matter how certain the outcome. A child your age has no business—"

"I'm not a child. If it's a good opportunity, I want to take it."

Juniper would always remember that moment, when she'd seen greed take hold of her brother, an invisible hand guiding him onward, the lever at work. Mister Hertzoon had taken a lot of convincing.

They'd all gone back to the Zelverstraat house and discussed it well into the night. Juniper and Wylan had fallen asleep with their heads on the silver dog's side and Saskia's red ribbon clutched in her hand.

When Kaz finally roused him, the candles had burned low, and it was already morning. Mister Hertzoon had asked his business partner to come over and draw up a contract for a loan from Kaz. Because of his age, Kaz would loan Mister Hertzoon the money, and Mister Hertzoon would place the trade.

Margit gave them milk tea and warm pancakes with sour cream and jam. Then they'd all walked to the bank that held the funds from the sale of the farm and Kaz signed them over.

Mister Hertzoon insisted on escorting them back to their boarding house, and he'd hugged them at the door.

He handed the loan agreement to Kaz and warned him to keep it safe. "Now, Kaz," he said. "There is only a small chance that this trade will go bad, but there is always a chance. If it does, I'm relying on you not to use that document to call in your loan. We both must take the risk together. I am trusting you."

Kaz had beamed. "The deal is the deal," he said. "The deal is the deal," said Mister Hertzoon proudly, and they shook hands like proper merchants.

Mister Hertzoon handed Kaz a thick roll of kruge. "For a fine dinner to celebrate. Come back to the coffeehouse a week from today, and we'll watch the prices rise together."

That week they'd played ridderspel and spijker at the arcades on the Lid. They'd bought Kaz a fine new coat, Juniper a new ring and Wylan a new pair of soft leather boots.

They'd eaten waffles and fried potatoes, and Kaz had purchased every novel he craved at a bookshop on Wijnstraat. When the week was over, they'd walked hand in hand to the coffeehouse.

It was empty. The front door was locked and bolted. When they pressed their faces to the dark windows, they saw that everything was gone – the tables and chairs and big copper urns, the chalkboard where the figures for the day's trades had been posted.

"Do we have the wrong corner?" asked Wylan. But they knew they didn't. In nervous silence, they walked to the house on Zelverstraat. No one answered their knock on the bright blue door.

"They've just gone out for a while," said Kaz.

They waited on the steps for hours, until the sun began to set. No one came or went. No candles were lit in the windows. Finally, Kaz worked up the courage to knock on a neighbour's door.

"Yes?" said the maid who answered in her little white cap. "Do you know where the family next door has gone? The Hertzoons?" The maid's brow furrowed. "I think they were just visiting for a time from Zierfoort."

"No," Kaz said. "They've lived here for years. They—" The maid shook her head. "That house stood empty for nearly a year after the last family moved away. It was only rented for the past few years but even then, they came and went."

"But—" She'd closed the door in his face. Kaz and the twins said nothing to each other, not on the walk home or as they climbed the stairs to their little room in the boarding house.

They sat in the growing gloom for a long time. Voices floated back to them from the canal below as people went about their evening business.

"Something happened to them," Kaz said at last. "There was an accident or an emergency. He'll write soon. He'll send for us."

That night, Juniper took Saskia's red ribbon from beneath her pillow. She rolled it into a neat spiral and clutched it in her palm. She lay in bed and tried to pray, but all she could think about was the magician's coin: there and then gone. 

𝐊𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐦, 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟎

A failed heist. That was what the Crows were coming home from. Evidently, no one was happy about it.

Juniper had a limp, along with a knife wound in her shoulder. Inej had a broken finger, and both Matthias and Jesper shared bruises, all of which were slowly healing other than Juniper's wounds. 

The Heartrender knew it was her fault. She had been distracted. Her thoughts had been consumed by the nightmare she experienced the night prior.

She cursed herself for falling asleep at her desk late that night. She had willed herself to stay up past the early hours of the morning, and just had to wait two more before the sun rose, yet she couldn't do such a simple task, and now they were all suffering for it.

She wanted to say I'm sorry. She wanted to tell them that it wouldn't happen again, that she wouldn't let herself be distracted by her constant nightmares. But she stayed silent.

As they walked into the slat, Juniper quickly held out her arms, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder, stopping them from moving any further. "Wait," She whispered, feeling a new heartbeat.

They all glanced down at her confused, before they heard it as well. Someone had broken in.

"Stay," She spoke again, before walking away from them, holding out her hands as she searched for the location of the unwelcomed. Matthias was quick to follow behind her, not wanting to leave her alone.

It wasn't until they reached her office that they saw a man sitting at her desk, holding one of her knives, twisting it in his fingers as he stared at her.

Her gloved hands never faltered. Not even as her eyes met his.

"Klaus."

"June. Matthias, lovely to see you again."

"What are you doing here?" The Fjerdan asked, wanting nothing more than to kill the vampire sat crosswise them.

Klaus ignored his question as he stood up. "You've changed, love. You're drier."

She held back a scoff. Her right hand slowly moved to her side before she pulled out a pistol and pointed it at him. "What are you doing here? You're not allowed in Kerch."

"I am allowed wherever I please. You should have learned that by now."

"I will not ask you again."

"What are you going to do with that?" He asked, gesturing to the gun. "You gonna shoot me? You're already injured. It wouldn't be a wise act."

Still holding the gun up, her left hand lowered to her side. Her fingers hid in the folds of her dress, leaving the man unseeing of the slow meticulous movements she was making as she played with his heart.

"You want to know what wasn't a wise act?"

"Humour me."

She tugged on his heart, the act earning a grunt.

"Hurting the one thing I cared about."

His heart beat rapidly, too fast for it to be healthy as his lungs collapsed in his chest. She set her gun on her desk, deciding she didn't need it as his body dropped to the ground in pain.

"Hold him," she told Matthias and Jesper who had joined them.

Klaus spat in her face. Juniper took a handkerchief from her coat pocket and carefully wiped her face clean. She thought of Kol lying still on the ground, his skin grey from the dagger.

Juniper used her free hand to pull the oyster shucking knife out of her shoulder. Sure, she could have grabbed the many knives hidden on her person, at any given time she had at least two knives stashed somewhere in her clothes, but she liked the dramatics.

The blade was covered in her blood, dripping onto the floor as she stepped closer to him.

She made a neat slash across Klaus' eye – from brow to cheekbone – and before Klaus could draw breath to cry out, she made a second cut in the opposite direction, a nearly perfect X. Now Klaus was screaming.

Juniper wiped the knife clean, placed it to her sleeve, and drove her gloved fingers into Klaus' eye socket. He shrieked and twitched as Juniper yanked out his eyeball, its base trailing a bloody root.

Blood gushed over his face. Juniper heard Jesper retching as he kept his hold on the vampire, Matthias doing most of the work.

She tossed the eyeball out the open window and jammed her spit-soaked handkerchief into the socket where Klaus' eye had been. Then she grabbed Klaus's jaw, her gloves leaving red smears on the vampire's chin.

Her actions were smooth, precise, as if she were dealing cards at the Crow Club or picking an easy lock, but her rage felt hot and mad and unfamiliar. Something within her had torn loose.

"Listen to me," she hissed, her face inches from his. "You have two choices. You tell me why you're here and stop playing games. Or I take the other eye, and I repeat this conversation with a blind man. Before doing it all over again when you heal."

Klaus gasped in pain, keeling over as Matthias held him straight, silently wishing he wouldn't speak so she would make good on her promise and take out his other eye. God knows he deserved it.

But to the Fjerdan's displeasure, Klaus spoke. "I wanted to make a deal with you."

Her face remained stoic, not an ounce of emotion in it. "What kind of deal?"

"It's to do with the doppelganger."

She grinned maniacally, "Let me guess," She pulled out a different knife and trailed it along his cheek, leaving a deep red slash. "I help you break your curse, you give me Kol?"

"Yes," He choked out.

The knife stabbed into his chest. "Nice try. But we already tried that deal, and you broke it."

Blood bubbled up his throat. "I'll give you the dagger. I won't be able to kill him without it. You-" The knife twisted. "You'll have full control over when he lives and dies."

"What's the catch? No business man worth his salt bargains for what he can take. You could easily compel me into helping you, so why offer the deal?"

Matthias's grip tightened and Klaus felt his bones snap under the pressure.

"Because I still think of you as a sister."

She laughed. She actually laughed in his face. "Wow. You know, I really felt that when you made me relive my brothers deaths. And I could really feel the love when you daggered Kol in front of me. Twice. Two goddamn times. Sibling love right there, huh?"

"You were going to take him away from me."

She pulled the knife out. "I would have never done that to you. I would never split apart a family and you know that better than most."

"You were going to take him to Ravka."

The knife was back in his chest, just centimetres from his clenched heart. "I was leaving for Ravka myself. Nikolai told me he had information on my kind. Kol was going to stay here. He wasn't going to leave you."

His eyes widened a fraction. He hadn't known that.

"I will take you up on your deal though. But, I do warn you, if you touch him again, I will find a white oak stake and I will kill you. And you know I don't bluff."

She stepped back, leaving her knife in his chest. "Take him out of here," She told Matthias and Jesper, watching as the men dragged him out before she slumped in her chair.

"Inej," She muttered, hearing the woman walk in.

"You should really let me heal you."

"I don't need to be healed," Juniper told the Suli vampire.

Inej sat across from her, ignoring the blood staining the floor. "You could hardly walk and you got stabbed. It would be best-"

"I don't need your pity."

"I don't pity anyone, you know that. But I do care about you."

Juniper began wiping the blood off her gloves, silently thinking about whether or not she would have to take them to a cleaner. "Admitting that is a weakness."

"Love is not a weakness."

Their eyes met. "Then why has love only betrayed me if not for it being a weakness?"

Inej didn't know what to say. The Heartrender was right. Love had only done one thing to her. It didn't leave her feeling happy, or as if she were floating as the poets say, it made her feel like she was already gone.

"You should check on Jesper. I think he was gonna be sick earlier." She said after a beat of silence, unable to meet the Wraith's eyes.

"Matthias will take care of it. I'm not leaving you."

Juniper looked up ever so slightly causing their eyes to meet. Her lip twitched. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Inej wasn't most people.

"We're never gonna leave you, Juniper."

"Never say never."

The Wraith smiled, "You just did."

And there it was. Juniper smiled. It was a genuine smile, one that resembled the way her face would light up when she smelled the sweet scent of waffles.

"You know, I tried to find him..."

"I know," Juniper said just above a whisper. "Thank you, Inej. You've done more than enough for me."

"That's what family is for. Besides, if we weren't here, both those boys would be dead."

Juniper chuckled, "Oh, most definitely." 

So... Juniper's gonna go a little insane (as i'm sure we call all see). But we love hot insane women.