By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought)

by Crandall, John

  “A friend of mine,” Dirk said, “is...is dead. She was killed by this sadistic brute who’s been killing people for months. I left her in bed that night and found her there later, murdered. I should have stayed with her,” Dirk said, his eyes locked on the floor, his face empty of any other thoughts or emotions.

  Tallow gazed sadly at Dirk then kissed his cheek in an effort to comfort him. “It isn’t your fault,” she said, then continued after a brief pause, “It wasn’t one of the two I knew, was it?” Dirk wondered who it was Tallow knew then he remembered the night in the tavern that they had seen Melissa and Fiona.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “her name,” he hesitated, “was Cinder. She was like you: sweet, kind, pretty...” he stopped in mid-word, then turned toward her and, for the first time in days, became highly animated, taking Tallow’s hands roughly into his and staring deeply into her eyes while sitting up straight. “You have to stop...” he searched for the right word, “...working. This guy is out there, and if he’s seen you with me, he might try to kill you.”

  Tallow gasped in fear. “What can I do?” she asked timidly.

  “I’ll give you a job, and I want you to stay at Bessemer’s with me.” She didn’t smile, but inside was beaming. Tallow nodded her head slowly, trying not to let her excitement about going to live with her love show on her face. “I care about you too much to let you stay here. I want you where I can keep an eye on you. We have dogs and guards...let’s pack your stuff and go right now.”

  “What about the girls? I should give them time to find someone else. I can’t just move out.”

  “Haven’t you paid the rent this month?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?” he asked. “If they need anything from you, you can pay it, or I will. I want you out. Now go and pack and I’ll carry it.” Tallow blushed, her face aglow: her prince had truly come!

  “I have alot of clothing,” she said.

  “I’m strong.”

  “Dirk,” she said politely, “my appearance is, or was, my business. I have a lot of clothes.”

  “Leave them. You’re not doing it anymore. Right?”

  “I won’t do it anymore, but I do like my clothes. Please. Many don’t look like...well, you know, those kind of dresses. Please.” Dirk nodded his consent, happy that she, unlike Cinder, would give something, probably anything, up simply because he asked.

  “I’ll bring a horse and cart,” he said. “Be ready; I’ll be back.” Tallow nodded and smiled. Dirk hurried home and hitched Candy to a cart in which he had lain several blankets to keep Tallow’s garments clean against the soiled wood, then he led the wagon back to the house.

  When he walked inside, Vanna and Beatrice were sitting alone in the room. They looked strangely at each other then bounced over and each took one of his arms and guided him to the couch. “Hi Dirk,” Beatrice said. “How are you tonight? How about all the snow we’re having?”

  “Yes,” Vanna added. “Strange, isn’t it?” He looked at them, growing naturally suspicious.

  “Where’s Tallow?” he asked.

  “Oh, she’s packing,” Beatrice said.

  “Yeah, packing,” Vanna said. Dirk heard Tallow’s voice from up the stairs.

  “No!” she said. “Not anymore,” then there was a pause: “Since now. I quit.” Dirk rose like an enraged bull.

  “We didn’t want you to see her with him, Dirk,” Beatrice pleaded, grabbing him vainly. “She was packing. Don’t be mad with her. He forced his way upstairs just before you got here.” Dirk shook the girls loose and shot up the stairs in two great leaps. He threw the door open and crossed the room in another two strides to where a man of surly appearance, his forehead low and heavy, was shaking Tallow by her shoulders. He let her go and stepped back in fear as Dirk approached.

  Dirk shoved him, knocking the man with incredible force back into the wall. As he bounced off it, Dirk raised a great gauntleted fist and punched him in the jaw, knocking him out cold and down onto the floor. Dirk went to pummel him again, but Tallow grabbed his arm with both her hands, begging him to stop while nearly being hurled forward by his strength. Dirk stopped and looked about. Her clothes were scattered around the room, as if thrown there.

  “I’ll pick it all up. Go downstairs and wait,” Tallow pleaded. Dirk nodded with a grunt and threw the man over his shoulder. He carried him down and to the front stairs, where he hurled him face-first into the snowbank below. Vanna and Beatrice giggled. Beatrice, spurred by an idea, walked over to him.

  “Maybe you’d like to protect us all?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” asked Dirk, slowly calming, his breath coming in short, angry pants.

  “You see, that’s what he does, or did, if you want to know. We could give you a percent of our earnings. We’ve all been forced or stiffed on our fees by jerks, even threatened. You would just make sure that they behave by doing things like that to them,” she said, pointing to the front door.

  “I don’t think so,” Dirk said. “If you don’t like those things to happen to you, then quit what you do and get a real job.” Beatrice’s eyes flashed.

  “Why don’t you wake up and realize life around you, Dirk. People like sex and they always, always will. Why can’t you see that? Great gods, it’s human nature! And do you think you’re gonna pay her what she makes here? I don’t think so. What she gives is needed by every person alive; some more than others. That little girl makes more than thirty crowns a month. Can you pay her that to do whatever it is she’s gonna do? No, I didn’t think so.”

  “Well,” he said, “if she wants a place to stay, food to eat, and her body as her own, she’ll take a pay cut. But, if it’s money and dirty sex she wants, she can stay with you.” He stepped past Beatrice and paced impatiently around the room. Tallow had her garments neatly stacked on the bed, and Dirk began the task of shuttling them down to the cart. Tallow soon joined him.

  “I’ll go get my cosmetics and paints,” she said. After several minutes, he heard her saying good-bye with promises to visit and invitations for her friends to visit her, which Dirk was plainly not thrilled about. Then she came out carrying a pillowcase which made scratching and clashing noises (filled with jars and bottles) and she placed it gingerly with her clothing then took Dirk’s arm. He used his other arm to lead Candy along, and the three walked the route back to the store.

  Dirk stopped the cart outside the back door and took Tallow inside. He left her in the store proper, while he walked into Jenderson’s office.

  “Yes, Dirk?” Jenderson asked.

  “I need to give a friend a job.”

  “Doing what? We don’t need anyone right now.”

  “I’ll pay her from my own salary if I have to, just find her something important, or at least something she’ll think is important.”

  “Well,” said Jenderson, pondering, “I don’t know.”

  “Teach her how the store runs. Not the details, but the general stuff. She can help, I know. She’s smart and can take care of some of the smaller stuff for you.”

  “All right. I’ll put her on payroll and see what I can do, tomorrow,” he said emphatically. “I’m swamped right now and as it looks, I won’t be leaving on time. I’m going to be here awhile,” he sighed as if to himself.

  “Thanks,” Dirk said downheartedly. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Dirk,” Jenderson called as he was about to leave, “I’m sorry, again, about Cinder. She was a sweet and charming girl. How did things go today?”

  Dirk shrugged and looked down to the floor. “Okay” he said. “I mean, not good. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. Yes, I think I do. If I can do anything at all, do let me know. I mean it wholeheartedly.” Dirk nodded and smiled, remembering back to several months earlier when he absolutely hated Jenderson. Now the man was so understanding and, though Dirk hated to admit it, nice. Dirk walked out, smiling to Tallow.

  “All right. You start tomorrow,” he said. Ta
llow screamed and jumped on him, squeezing his neck as tight as she could, kicking her feet up behind her, unable to restrain her joy. She nearly cried, both in joy and in sorrow, sorrow over the fact that if she had gotten that job when she first came to Andrelia, she might have been able to win Dirk’s true and lasting love. “Let’s go unload your stuff up to my room, and then,” he said, jingling his purse, “go and buy you some work clothes for here.”

  “Oh, how can I repay you? You are so sweet, Dirk. I would do anything for you,” Tallow said, smiling ear-to-ear. “What will I do here?” she asked excitedly, and Dirk led her out, explaining to her what he thought she might learn, as he carried her garments up to his room to store them.

  Selric was sitting at the foot of Cinder’s tomb when he heard the far-off mausoleum doors open and the soft, slow click of a woman’s shoes coming down the distant hallways, this way and that. Eventually they led his direction. Soon, Alanna came timidly around a corner, holding a single violet in her hands: she looked as if she were searching for something, but relaxed with a look of compassion when she found Selric sitting alone in the long, seemingly endless passage. The hallway was lined with holes for the coffins, spaced three feet apart, most sealed with blocks of stone. Magical portals of soft light were set in the ceiling at regular intervals, giving the immaculately maintained halls an otherworldly, almost heavenly, quality. Alanna walked to him and Selric rose, wiping his eyes. She placed the single flower in the deep steel cup attached to the seal on Cinder’s niche. Alanna kissed Selric on the nose and took his hands in hers. “Come home, Darling,” she said as she looked lovingly into his eyes.

  “How did you know I was still here?” he asked.

  “I didn’t. I just had a feeling...” she said sweetly. “Cinder was very nice,” she said, letting go of his hands and touching the grave. “I wanted to bring her a flower.” Alanna gently touched the seal, as if communing with her brief acquaintance and feeling a tug of an unknown nature, one that none of her compatriots would feel from the cold stone. Alarmed, she pulled away and refused to explore any further, haunted by the huge, looming shadows she felt within that brief glimpse. She quickly turned back to Selric and took his arm. “Say good-bye and come along. It’s time for Cinder to be alone.” Selric smelled the violet and touched the stone as well, but he felt nothing.

  “I hate the thought of her being alone,” he began, then he looked at his love and nodded. “You are wonderful,” he said to Alanna as he kissed her curving cheek. Selric led her away, glancing back at Cinder’s new home as he rounded the corner toward the exit. “How did you know that Cinder’s favorite flowers are...I mean...were violets?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Oh,” he said. “She had told me in private after I introduced her to my mother. Cinder thought the coincidence was funny. I thought I told you to stay at the villa?” he said, quickly changing subjects. Alanna looked ashamed and offered no defense. “Please don’t do it anymore. I couldn’t lose you too. Stay where it’s safe. Now, I’m taking you home: I have to meet my friends at The Unicorn’s Run.” Selric escorted Alanna home, his arm around her slender shoulder, trying to keep Cinder off of his mind.

  Selric and Alanna—along with Mendric at the head of the household table as usual—ate dinner, with the young couple sitting across from each other. Though Alanna tried to cheer the boys, they spoke very little.

  “Did you find anything yet?” Mendric asked.

  “I haven’t had a chance,” Selric replied, not looking at his brother.

  “Well, make a chance.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” said Selric angrily, pushing his half-full plate away from him. “I gotta go.” He rose, walked over and kissed Alanna’s cheek briefly. “I may be late, I love you. Good-night, brother,” he said without looking at the other Stormweather as he left the room. Alanna picked feebly at her food while Mendric, disgusted, slid his meal away after his brother had gone, then stood up, walking towards the door as well.

  “You know he is hurt at this loss. Very hurt. He wants nothing more than to catch this villain,” Alanna said. “Don’t take your frustrations out on your brother.” Mendric stopped and whirled around to face her, an angry look on his face, but Alanna was not intimidated. Instead, she looked back defiantly at him.

  “Oh, really? What do you know?” he asked most unkindly. Alanna stood up proudly, hands on her hips, her small mouth drawn up tight.

  “I know you want me, for one thing. So, take me. Do it! Get it the hell over with, so you can be civil to me, or at least try not to be an ass to me all the fuckin’ time.” She fell silent, huffing and puffing at her own rebelliousness, staring coldly at Mendric, he who would be a noble prince in any other kingdom. Mendric sighed, his shoulders slumping.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, unable to look at her. “I’ll try to be more kind. I’ve forgotten my manners,” he said briskly and businesslike.

  “What about me?” she asked, puzzled.

  “I’d never do that to Selric. Never. Maybe, if we’d met under different circumstances, or if things did not work between you. But no, you’re wrong, I do not want you.” This time, he did look at her: very convincingly.

  Alanna’s green eyes wavered and she broke his stare. Now, she was the one who could not look at him. “Good-night Alanna,” Mendric said as he turned and walked out. She sat once more and ate a few more bites, before she too pushed her plate to the center of the huge table, near Selric’s. She went and sat before the fire in the guest chair, where she soon fell asleep, wondering how he could possibly not want her and how she could have possibly been so wrong about a man. Will watched closely from where he had been peering in the doorway.

  Selric opened the door to The Unicorn’s Run and stepped in, standing for a moment in the doorway. He felt ill, his stomach nauseous. Glancing over he saw Fiona, Melissa, and Dirk sitting at their table. No one sat in the deepest corner of the booth: Cinder’s seat remained empty. With a forced smile, Selric walked over. Carah, one of the wenches, brought him his ale without command. This was the first time any of them had come here since Cinder was murdered.

  “Hi,” Selric said, trying to smile genuinely. They half-heartedly bade him “hello.” “What’s going on?” Selric asked without expecting a reply, trying not to look at the empty space. He drank his ale down quickly and called Carah over, asking her to bring four wine glasses. Selric reached inside his cloak and pulled forth a bottle: Cinder’s magical wine bottle she’d received as her share for catching the temple thief. He had fought with himself, trying to decide if he should bury it with her, finally concluding that he would keep it. He pulled the stopper and filled their glasses. Dirk looked almost angry, seeing Selric with Cinder’s most prized possession.

  “Why are we drinking from that?” Dirk asked.

  “I don’t know,” Selric said simply. After a long pause during which they all looked at the grape nectar, Selric continued, “A tribute, I suppose.”

  “Here, here,” Fiona said, being the first to grasp her drink and raise it. “To a... well...a little goofy, but loving, friend, whom we all miss. We will all miss sadly.” She waited for the others to pick up their drinks. Dirk was the last to do it, but they all toasted Cinder’s memory. Even Dirk was surprised at the quality of the drink.

  Each friend, now more at ease and relaxed, revealed their fondest memories of Cinder in an attempt to reconcile their souls with the half-breed’s absence. Selric remembered the night he and Cinder had spent months ago, making love and talking; but mostly talking. That was the night they had discussed whether or not they should marry. Dirk sat dumbfounded, not knowing they had ever been so close that they would have had to discuss it.

  Fiona recalled a similar evening, where they talked, unknown to any of the others, about the differences between human and elven philosophies. Cinder knew how Fiona understood people like no other being, and could help her understand the short-lived humans. It was one of the very few times Cinder accepted someone else�
��s observations and opinions, so much was her trust in Fiona’s insights. Dirk sat in thought of the recent night where they stood in the snow, her face aglow. Then, painfully, he recalled the night she died; the night she warmly said “I love you.” Melissa remembered the day Cinder had braided, colored, and lengthened her hair, back during the long, warm, days of summer, as they sat close upon the beach waiting for Fiona: the day Melissa first let herself become attached to the Faerie.

  They all shared their memories and recollections, and though painful, each felt the need to cleanse their systems of the hurt and go on. Though it pained them, the tears felt good. To hold it in, as anyone who has ever lost someone dear knows, is the worst and truly most painful thing. Fiona was a great help in alleviating the worst of the pain, those first few days of shock and denial. But maybe even a greater aid was their intense rage to see her death avenged. They spent that night however, talking, smiling, even laughing in their attempts to live on. Selric was the first to say good-night then Dirk hurried back to Tallow, where he spent his personal funds to not double, but quadruple the guards on Bessemer’s. Fiona and Melissa sat awhile together then walked back to their house.

  Selric found Alanna asleep before the fire and carried her up to her room. She opened her eyes slightly and gave Selric a sleepy grin. He undressed her, tucked her in with a kiss on the lips and lay down beside her for comfort, ending up sleeping there the entire night comforting himself.

  15

  Melissa walked down the dark alleyway, her arm straining as she held her bow drawn. Selric moved deftly ahead of her, his sword raised, his head looking this way, then that, as they moved between the tall warehouses. She could hear, somewhere behind her, Dirk’s heavy boots scuffling through the snow. Fiona walked before Dirk, but more silently.

  Cinder had been laid to rest four days ago; four days spent searching for the Fiend and little else. Only eating and occasional sleep broke the monotony of clue finding, sewer trudging, checking with the Watch, and talking with various sources, usually of Selric’s acquaintance. With leads which went nowhere and valueless clues, the search was not productive until they received an anonymous note, telling them where the Fiend had been seen several nights in a row. So they went there: the end of Bigelow street, near the northern portion of the east wall of the city. Selric had waited for Mendric, who had been out himself using his influence and the note from the Head Constable to try and gather some leads. But Mendric never showed, so Selric left him a note informing him of where they had gone.