The London streets are still churned up, filled with constantly shouting people, hemmed in by the too-big buildings and the stinking piles of human waste, but today it feels different.

Is he already adjusting to this world? Or is it the distraction of his constantly chatting new companion that's making everything bearable?

Black Jack has a story about everything they see. A trader selling lumps of fat with leaves sticking out of it for stomach clenching prices, launches Jack into a story that seems to last all morning about the time he thieved a bar of soap and couldn’t get anyone to buy it as it smelt so awful and he couldn’t convince anyone that it was supposed to be for cleaning yourself. Until he did convince someone due to a lot of trickery that John has a hard time following even though he listens carefully to every single word Jack speaks.

During that long story John opens his mouth several times to try and tell Black Jack he knows how to mix young birch leaves and warm water to make something that will clean your skin of the stickiest dried on blood. But he can never make the words interesting enough to leave his mouth.

Black Jack also has stories about things they can’t see:

distant newly discovered lands;

people being round up off the streets and forced to fight and die in wars in other older lands;

ships that fell off the end of the world even though the world wasn’t flat anymore but was supposed to be a circle;

ships that attacked other ships and pirated enough gold to fill the heavens;

stars that flashed through the sky and gave endless fortune to any who were quick enough to wish on them

…and so much more.

His new friend describes so many marvels, that John feels he could tell all the stories of the faeries he sees and they would sound plain and every day compared to Jack’s tales.

He glances at the hobgoblin that is somersaulting in the empty air and although the hobgoblin doesn’t look at him, John feels in the pit of his stomach that he is being accused of something. He’s left his village, stolen from Da, travelled all this way, to be safe with the Faerie Queene. Not to meander around crowded streets with a strange boy. What does he actually know about Black Jack? He has quick hands, and sparkling eyes, and so many smiles, And he is kind to John.

This morning he awoke in Jack’s arms. Black Jack’s smiling face was the first thing he focused on. The first thing he heard was Jack’s heartbeat quickly followed by his voice as Jack started speaking the moment John looked up into his eyes. Jack talked about what they were going to do today as if it was already an agreed thing. He moved as naturally from the bed to standing and getting dressed, taking John with him, as if they were close brothers who had slept and woken thus every day of their lives.

John’s heart slows at the idea of leaving this person who’s been so nice to him.

How will he find this city’s magic though if he keeps trailing around with Black Jack?

John chews on his lip as he thinks. Maybe they don’t need to separate just yet. Black Jack does know this world. Perhaps John should stay with him for a little longer. If he is patient Jack will surely take him to where he needs to be.