I absolutely adore how this chapter came out, and it definitely ended up longer than I expected. Six of Crows is my absolute favourite right now, and since Shadow and Bone is coming to Netflix, thought this would be fitting. Enjoy!

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Kaz Brekker strolled down the street of Manhattan, ignoring the looks of pity shot his way from passers-by. They could believe what they wished to--more often than not, the pity worked well in Kaz's favour.

As he made his way closer to Nina's new apartment, Kaz contemplated why he even made the trip all the way to Manhattan from Ketterdam. Saints forbid something to happen to the Dregs when he was gone. Perhaps Per Haskell would choose this time to make a comeback, or Pekka Rollins might feel stupid enough to get revenge. Without realising, a small smile flitted across Kaz's features, the memory of Rollins begging for the location of his son resurfacing.

If Inej were there, she would've called him cruel for enjoying it. Inej.

Kaz felt a heavy weight in his heart at the thought of his dear Wraith. It had been what--eight months since Inej left? Kaz didn't know whether to feel guilty for having forgotten about her for the past two weeks. He never really forgot her, of course. Turning to the windowsill every time he entered the familiar room at the top of the Slat, a pang in his head whenever he asked someone else to collect information--it felt like a betrayal to Inej, in a twisted way.

Kaz shook his head, raising an eyebrow when he heard a loud scream. The sound came from somewhere on his left. Kaz turned his head, reading the sign in front of the large building. Trident High. He smiled, though of course not actually. Kaz had grown so familiar with the act of hiding his emotions that it didn't even take much effort to do.

As he got closer, Kaz could clearly see what was happening. There was a large creature--it had dog-like features, a thick black coat of fur that looked soft and inviting. But the creature's eyes were a bright red as if glowing like a flashlight in a dark, despite it being mid-day. It seemed to perhaps be a little larger than a tank, though Kaz couldn't be sure, seeing as he had only seen one tank in his life--and it wasn't exactly the time or the place to measure the vehicle's size.

Standing in front of the dog lookalike, was a scrawny boy in an orange shirt and suspenders. He had elvish features--pointy ears, a small frame, and a mischievous smile that would've rattled Kaz if he hadn't seen the same look on Jesper more than once.

In a way, the boy reminded Kaz of Jesper--the same slightly dishevelled hair, hands itching to hold something, and the troublemaking grin that Kaz had grown to be rather fond of. Though he would never let Jesper know it. The only difference was that the boy in front of Kaz seemed more. . .free. Like he had seen things, but always knew how to pull through. Like there was always something or someone, there for him. Like a life force that helped the boy keep up with the grin and joking exterior.

Kaz envied it. But at the same time, he knew that it was dangerous. To show vulnerability, to let others know your weaknesses. He had already learned that lesson with Van Eck, Kaz wasn't going to learn it again.

The boy tossed a sharp dagger between his hands, jumping on the balls of his feet. With every attack, the boy moved with precision, experience. To any other person watching, he would've seemed like a legend, a brilliant fighter. But after seeing Inej work with knives, Kaz knew better. The boy was good, but a dagger clearly wouldn't be his first choice of weaponry for battle, though it clearly was the only one he had on hand.

Kaz picked up a hammer laying on the ground. Its material looked and felt familiar, and something that looked to be gold paint-decorated one corner of the hammer. Kaz frowned. It wasn't paint. The substance was clearly new, and it looked too thick to just be gold paint, and the colour was too clear. That was when it hit him; blood.

The gold was blood. And the material was Celestial Bronze.

Kaz had never used Celestial Bronze before, but the Fabrikator who had created his cane had said something about adding the metal to the outside of his cane, as protection. Kaz didn't know why--but he knew enough to know that the added protection would one day come in handy. And clearly, he was right.

The elf-like boy was holding up well, though he seemed to have begun to struggle. Fumbling with his blade, movements sluggish. Kaz's gaze landed on a small pouch hooked at the boy's waist--it looked heavy, though not heavy enough to weigh down the boy's belt. The pouch jingled like keys, only softer, and more distinct. Kaz cocked his head to the side. It wasn't kruge in the boy's pouch, but it would certainly make for realistic bunk if Kaz ever came to need it.

With his head still cocked to the side, a plan began to form in his head. It wasn't much, but this wasn't the Ice Court, and sometimes, a messy plan was just what was needed.

Leo saw the other guy coming.

It was rather difficult to ignore a seventeen-year-old boy dressed in old man clothes with a fancy cane walking towards him, after all.

He was lean, and his suit fitted to him like a glove. In fact, the boy was actually wearing black gloves, one hand in his pocket, the other on the handle of his cane. One with a crow's head for a handle. Leo blinked. Using a crow's head was something he's never seen before. And a celestial bronze cover for a walking cane was most peculiar too.

Leo ducked when the hellhound pounced again, his arm burned from scratching against the concrete sidewalk. When did the fight move to the street? The hellhound limped as it got back on its feet, the small hit Leo had gotten in with his hammer clearly proved helpful. In that second when the monster was distracted, Leo turned to the crippled boy, avoiding looking at his leg. He knew looking at it would most likely frustrate the boy.

"Hey there, I appreciate your help, but I don't need it," said Leo, moving slightly to keep the hellhound guessing on where he was going to go.

The boy raised an eyebrow, clearly more amused than he was scared or worried. Like any normal mortal would've been. Leo shuddered when the boy locked his gaze onto the hellhound's. His eyes were calculating as if imagining all the ways he could tear apart the monster before him.

Leo needed to kill the monster, but that didn't mean he wanted to give it a painful death. He still had some humility in him. But looking at the other boy, he might not.

"Certainly doesn't seem like it," said the boy. Leo sucked in his breath, his gaze glued to the boy. His voice was low, raspy--like stone on stone. It was soothing in a way. Like Piper's charmspeak, just more. . .dark. But before he could say another word, the hellhound pounced once more, earning a yelp from Leo, who rolled to the left, completely forgetting that the boy was behind him.

It had been a while since he had to watch out for someone else in battle. Whenever Leo fought, he knew that the other demigods could watch themselves. It was only too surprising when the boy didn't run and instead swung his cane in a wide ark, his movements graceful, as if it was a practised move.

The body of the cane made contact with the hellhound's body, and Leo winced when he heard a whimper from the creature as it fell to the ground. The boy, however, only smirked. The sight sent a chill down Leo's spine. He was a demigod, one of the Seven, but even he felt scared of this mortal with nothing more than a cane and a scary face. He gave Leo the same fear Nico di Angelo did at first, the only difference was that this boy carried himself with more confidence, something Nico never did.

Leo snapped back to reality, picking up the dagger that he had dropped at some point, and stabbing it into the hellhound's chest. It exploded into golden dust, raining down onto the grass like confetti or glitter. Leo shuddered, quickly wiping the dagger clean with the edge of his Camp Half-Blood shirt before sliding it back in its scabbard.

Close combat definitely wasn't Leo's strong suit, he couldn't understand how Annabeth and Piper could handle fighting with daggers. Throwing fireballs and swinging a heavy hammer definitely seemed more appealing to Leo.

The sound of a cane against the grass made Leo turn around to face the boy who had helped him. His expression was unreadable, his posture rigid yet relaxed at the same time. Unlike Leo, the boy seemed very in tune with his surroundings, aware of everyone watching, aware of the fact that Leo had a sharp weapon on hand, yet no fear showed on his face.

"Thanks for that," said Leo. The boy cocked his head to the side, brandishing a familiar pouch from the pocket of his coat.

Leo's eyes widened, and his hand flew to his side, where the pouch of drachmas was now gone. He gaped at the boy, eyes flying between him and the now bare rope that had been holding the pouch.

"How did you--"

The ghost of a smile showed on the boy's face. "I don't do things for free," he said in the same raspy voice. "Besides, this would make excellent bunk."

He then turned around to leave. When Leo grabbed onto his shoulder, the boy instantly froze, his body stuck in place. Leo let go, the boy then relaxing.

"Who are you?" asked Leo, eyebrows furrowed. Raspy voice, businessman-attire, crow head cane, sleight of hand, the description matched one of a famous thief he had heard the Stolls speak of a week ago.

Silence ensued, before the boy answered, turning his head back to face Leo. "Kaz Brekker," he said. "Dirtyhands."