It reminds Inej of the Barrel. Perhaps that’s why she’s found herself drawn there, after slipping silently through town carefully mapping Gazin’s streets. She’ll need to know, if she’s to be here a while. (Is it the will of the Saints, her being here? Or something else. She has to believe it’s their will. How else had she come to find herself here. No small science can do anything like this, move someone from one world to the next. So it has to be.)

She sits in the shadows, looking for all the world at ease in the bar she’s found herself, a drink at hand. She doesn’t know the layout of power in this Barrel, yet, she can’t map that as easily as she can streets and alleyways. Doesn’t know who wields the power, here. (She wishes Kaz were here. Not for any other reason. Just for that. Mostly for that. A little for that.)

Taking a sip of her drink, she turns towards the door as motion draws her attention... and almost can’t breathe. The glass freezes at her lips. She’d wanted a familiar face here with her... and here one is, walking through the door as though he’s been sent by the Saints themselves.

Jesper. Finishing her drink and setting the glass aside, forgotten, she’s moving before she can stop herself, quick and graceful as a wraith.