Moonshine

by Jasmine Gower

  She expected Andre to push back, to insist that she explain what she intended if not reject her outright without hearing a thing in her own defense. But he only closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose. “Very well. Then it is time for us to leave.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at Cyan. Andre said nothing, but the faerie appeared to understand that silence better than any human words. He ducked his head and whined, reaching out for Andre’s hand.

  Chapter 17

  Andre’s car was much too small for what remained of their group. Jonas was placed in the passenger seat with his legs pulled halfway up his chest, and Cyan was tucked away in the seat behind him. Vinnie sat directly behind Andre, his shoulders too wide for a backseat overfilled with passengers, and Daisy and Regina doubled up in the middle, the latter half-sitting on both the other young woman and Vinnie. Andre was too tired to be annoyed or uncomfortable with the arrangement.

  “Just drop us off at my place,” Jonas said. “I know it’s a little out of the way, but Regina and Vinnie can stay the night, and I can get you a bit of mana before you go on your way.”

  Jonas’ consideration warmed Andre in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t often get down to Pinstripes when it was open, and so he rarely got to see his own speakeasy’s bouncer. Andre had always preferred it that way, assuming that the ogre would be as airheaded and obnoxious as the Pasternacks, or at least comparably unpleasant. Perhaps Andre had been too cold with him, though – Jonas had certainly proved himself not only capable, but loyal and compassionate through all this mess that Andre had caused.

  “Thank you, Mister Bauer. I appreciate that.”

  “Thanks, Joney,” Regina echoed from the back seat. Beside (and slightly under) her, Daisy sat with her chin tilted toward her chest, on the verge of sleep. Andre wished he could leave her to rest with Jonas, too, though of course he wouldn’t be able to locate the faerie ring without either her or Vinnie.

  Andre drove them across town to Jonas’ neighborhood – a dingy, ramshackle area within walking distance of the office. Like many city-dwelling ogres, Jonas had to make do with a home that was too small for his frame, some little one-storied cottage with thin strips of greying lawn between it and neighboring houses of a similar build. Andre parked on the curb before the house and went to unbuckle himself, but Jonas held up a hand.

  “You can stay here. I’ll be back in a moment with the blue stuff.” He, Vinnie, and Regina all piled out, and Andre gestured to Daisy to move up to Jonas’ spot. She was about to slide out after Regina, but she paused in the seat with a grunt.

  “I left my shoes there.” Instead of stepping out barefoot onto the curb, she closed the car door and just clambered up to the front between the driver and passenger seats. Jonas was back shortly with a small bottle of mana wrapped inside a stained washrag to hide its contents.

  Andre rolled down his window to accept the bottle. “My thanks. I will compensate you for your trouble as soon as I am able.” Jonas waved dismissively, though it was telling he didn’t verbally reject Andre’s offer. Mana was expensive, even for those within their company, and Jonas clearly didn’t have much by way of disposable income. Andre knew he had to find some better way to give the young ogre his due – to give all of them the comfort and security they deserved. Daisy was not the only one who did not deserve to live in squalor, and Andre’s hope in his work had always been to build a better world for his fellow magicians. Years now into his work with the Stripes, it was becoming clear that the logistics of how to accomplish such a thing continued to elude him.

  As Jonas went back inside, Andre drained the bottle, wincing at the suffocating sweetness even while every cell in his brain flexed and sighed in ease as the liquid rushed down his throat and hit his stomach. Normally, he would have tried to be more measured in his mana intake – Jonas’ bottle was rationed for a man of his size, not Andre’s – but he had spent himself so thoroughly at the Gin Fountain, and the night was not yet over. It was likely that drinking the whole bottle in a single sitting would result in some effects of overdose, but he would rather suffer that than be left as exhausted and feeble as he was. When he was finished with it, he set the emptied bottle on the floor behind him. Cyan scooted to the middle seat and leaned over to sniff at it, but he showed little more interest than that. His wide eyes were drooped in an expression that, on a human, would have appeared melancholy. Andre wondered if he understood what was coming next.

  “Daisy, are you well enough to direct me to where I need to go?”

  “Well enough.”

  From Jonas’ house, it took nearly two hours to drive through and out of the northern edge of town, taking the highway that led toward Ashland’s coast. Andre sometimes found need to come out in this direction for work – meeting with clients living in the countryside or shutting down bumpkins running independent moonshining operations that interfered with the Stripes’ own. He had not been to the coast itself, though, since he was an adolescent boy going on the occasional trip with his mother. He wondered how she had been faring the past few months, and he promised himself that once everything calmed down, he would give her a call.

  Daisy’s directions eventually lead them down an unkempt road, and from there, her instructions grew hazier. “We parked somewhere on the side of the road and followed Vinnie’s aural sight to the spot. I’m not sure I could find it again just looking for the trail we left the first time.”

  “We’ll do our best. Just tell me when you see something familiar.”

  But in the early morning dark, Daisy couldn’t make out much of anything, and eventually she was left with only guesswork. She pointed to a spot along the road that she referred to as, “Good enough.”

  It took nearly half an hour of scouting the forest underbrush on the edge of the road before they found a fresh trail cut by a blade, some dozen yards from where they had parked. Daisy led the way down it, with Cyan behind her and Andre at the rear. It led them far out of sight from the road, to a clearing spotted with drastic shadows from the surrounding flora contrasted by the moon’s shine. There was a curious mound of dirt near the edge of the clearing, but closer to the center was a faerie ring. Andre’s gut tightened as Daisy stepped into it, but she hesitated and turned to him.

  “I didn’t bring anything to offer.” Her face was slack, but her warm eyes began to water. Andre wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion or sorrow. “With everything else happening… I forgot to bring anything.”

  He thought of the bottle he had drained and placed in the back seat, but what few droplets still clung to its interior would probably not be enough to tempt a faerie to the human realm, if they were interested in offerings of mana at all. Daisy was still wearing three trinkets, but the faerie might object to have such things returned, and he could not ask Daisy to give them up. He himself had his cane or his glasses, either of which might be shiny enough to attract a faerie’s attention, though without them he would be nearly unable to function, incapable of even driving them back home without the glasses.

  His hand tightened on the head of the cane. Walking was easier again, now that the effects of the reverb had worn off completely, and he could always get a new one. It would be expensive, getting the custom hidden blade installed, but the loss was not unthinkable.

  Just as he began to lift it to hand over to Daisy, Cyan plucked the hat from his head. “What are you doing?” Andre asked gently, and the faerie stuck his face inside it.

  Cyan was so like a mere animal at times, but Andre had taken Daisy’s early warnings about faerie sensibilities to heart. Cyan was far from unintelligent – more cognizant than most humans Andre knew, he guessed – and he understood that he and Andre could not communicate through spoken language. The magician was beginning to understand that these almost childlike gestures were meant to convey Cyan’s intentions in place of words, though he rarely could make sense of them.

  He waited for Cyan to give another clue in his odd imitation of charades, and the faeri
e peeked out from the inner curve of the bowler before shuffling over to join Daisy inside the ring. His graceless steps, so unlike his usual fluid movement, fretted at Andre even though Cyan did not appear injured. Cyan handed the hat over to Daisy, who took it with enough surprise that she lifted her eyebrows.

  “This? Really?” Cyan murmured something in response, stepping back and bobbing his head. Daisy glanced at Andre, who could only shrug, and she shrugged back before setting it down between herself and Cyan. With that, she lifted her fingers to the bronze amulet, absently tracing its edge as she activated its levitation power. The hat lifted up, wobbling a bit, and she held it in place until a sliver of white appeared in midair, brightening the nighttime clearing.

  Cyan watched as the crack expanded, although with his head turned away from Andre, the man could not read his face. Soon, the shimmering opening was wide enough for a feminine creature to step through and forward. She was taller than Cyan, and wider too, with broad shoulders and long legs. Her hair was the same texture and length as his, though it and all of her skin and feathery fringe were a pastel shade of violet. She snatched the hat out of the air with her long fingers and locked eyes with Cyan.

  “Hello, again, Lavender,” Daisy said, but both faeries ignored her. Lavender stepped closer to Cyan, leaning in and sniffing him. Andre felt an unexpected pang of jealousy, remembering how Cyan had tasted his scent the first time that Daisy had shown Andre the faerie ring by the farmhouse. Lavender would be taking lovely Cyan and all the secrets of magic he held for their kind back home, and all Andre would be left with was his own shame over causing everyone so much strife.

  The violet faerie pulled away, and Cyan turned to look at Andre. His black eyes shone like oil in the haze of night, and he curled his long, clawed fingers toward himself to beckon Andre over. The magician glanced toward Daisy, seeking any warning in her expression, but she only watched Cyan carefully, as did Lavender.

  Andre stepped forward, joining them all inside the ring, and stood before Cyan. He started when Cyan lifted a hand to his face and caressed along the right side of his jaw, staring at his eyes and nose and lips while muttering in that lilting faerie language. Andre stood still, almost afraid of what Cyan was doing, until the faerie laced his fingers in Andre’s hair and leaned in for a kiss. Even as he feared how the other faerie might react to this tender interaction, Andre dared to rest his left hand on Cyan’s hip as he kissed him back.

  Such a lovely being. Andre’s own attraction to the faerie didn’t make sense to him, but he accepted it for what it was, as much pain as that brought him now that they were saying their farewells.

  When Cyan drew away, Lavender spoke to him in their language, and although she sounded annoyed, it seemed more from impatience than at the display of affection. She gestured with one hand at the portal, shoving the hat toward him with the other. Cyan took the hat with a gentle touch, and Lavender turned to re-enter the portal without any further acknowledgement of the humans. Cyan glanced once toward Daisy and then to Andre before turning his back to both and following Lavender back to their realm. The portal shrank once they were both on the other side, withering into a thin line and, soon after, complete nothingness.

  Perhaps if Andre hadn’t been so exhausted – sleepless and physically battered and still in need of replenishment from the magic he did earlier – he might have been able to choke down the sob that rose in his throat. But it escaped him in a shaking hiss, and he had to place his other hand over the one already clutching his cane to keep himself standing upright. He closed his eyes to allow himself a moment to gather his nerves.

  He jumped at the soft warmth of Daisy’s arm wrapping around his shoulder, but rather than begin escorting him away, she permitted him that moment. When he lifted his head, she patted his upper arm. “Come on. We set it right. Time to go home and rest.”

  He wanted to argue – Cyan might be returned to where he belonged, but Ming Wei had escaped, and Daisy’s life could still be in danger. He was in no state to properly protect her now, though, so he nodded along to her conclusion. She sounded confident in her assertion, and he respected her enough to trust her judgment that things were settled for the time being.

  Andre did not think of himself as a person who relied on others, but in that moment, he was glad for the strength her presence shared.

  More days-off were provided for Daisy following their ambush of Wei and her goons. At first when Andre offered it, as he dropped her off at home that night, she had tried to refuse, but he shook his head.

  “I’ll be calling Grey later and asking about shutting the whole company down for a few days. We all could use the rest.” If the office was closed entirely, Daisy had no choice but to accept. She had sounded begrudging when she agreed to Andre’s idea, but secretly she was relieved. She went to bed that night planning to sleep away half of the next day, which was exactly what she did.

  Around nightfall, she had other plans.

  She headed to the Gin Fountain on foot. The police had apparently arrived at the scene sometime after the Stripes had cleared out. Their bright yellow tape was left behind, roping off the sidewalk in front of the building and blocking the opening where the front door had once been beyond that. She ducked under both rows of tape and stepped into the dark dance hall, even more battered and ruined than it had been when she and Frisk had arrived the night before.

  Daisy didn’t know how she had been so sure, but as she expected, Ming Wei was already there. Ming stood above a dark stain on the hardwood floor, staring at it. All the bodies of her fallen comrades had been removed by the police.

  Daisy approached her. Under her coat and tucked into the sash around her dress was the machete she had borrowed from Vicks, and the onyx ring embraced the middle finger of her right hand, but she had nothing else by way of armaments. She didn’t expect this encounter to result in violence, but better to be safe. Ming didn’t even lift her head as Daisy neared.

  “What do you want?”

  Daisy stopped just out of arm’s reach. “I left my shoes here.” She glanced down at the bloody stain on the floor. “I’m sorry–”

  “No, you’re not. You let your trigger-happy friends trap us here. For all I know, you orchestrated the whole thing.” Ming looked up just as Daisy opened her mouth to argue. “I’m not saying I blame you. We did try to kill you first, after all. I should have been more careful. This is going to ruin my reputation, my whole career. I’m going to lose my house. And…” Her eyes drifted back to the bloodstain, and she closed them with a faint sigh. “I lost some good people last night. You don’t make a lot of friends in this line of work, but Jase…”

  Daisy reached into her coat and pulled something out. Not the machete – she had brought something else in hopes of seeing Ming that night.

  “Here, to help you out. Maybe enough to get you out of here to start a new life.” Ming stared at the offering before reaching out to take it tenderly between her fingers. “I know it’s not much – I just started this job, so I don’t have a lot in savings, but I thought…” Ming looked up at her with such open bafflement that it bordered on horror. Daisy only shrugged. “A girl’s got to eat, right?”

  Ming held the check so delicately that it seemed she was repulsed by the thing, but she didn’t return it to Daisy. “This is twice my monthly cost of living, including the money I send to my grandmother. You would just… give this to me?” Daisy shrugged again, like it was no small thing, though it was more than two months of living for her, too.

  There was wariness in her expression, but Ming folded the check and pocketed it. When she looked back up at Daisy, she said in a clear voice, “Jacobus Johnston.” Daisy tilted her head. “A candidate for city council, running against Daphne Linden. They both hired me to kill one of your people. Linden played me dirty, so I turned to her opponent and talked him into hiring my services. He wanted a martyr to rally voters around. All things considered, he could probably still spin this in his favor.” There was a flicke
r of amusement to her tone, but it was tarnished by her weariness and loss. She patted the check in her pocket. “Linden warned me that her friends at the bank were going to buy out my lease – I won’t be able to pay it off before they get around to it. You’re right, you know – I need a new start. I suppose if I get out of town, it might be worth my time to expose Johnston and Linden’s dealings.”

  Daisy smiled. “That’d be something to see. If you pull that off, I’d be willing to forgive this whole matter of going after my blood.” Ming smiled back. It was a strange moment of sympathy and camaraderie that Daisy hadn’t been expecting, no matter what she had figured might be the best-case scenario for this interaction.

  Ming turned away from Daisy, then, heading toward the back exit of the building. “I should go, before any of your friends get the same foolish idea to wander around here as you did. Thank you for the gift, and I’m sorry that it all came down to this.” She stepped into the pitch black kitchen before Daisy could reply. It didn’t matter. She had already said everything she had wanted to say.

  That out of the way, she went upstairs to retrieve her lost shoes.

  Although she had been with the Stripes for weeks, it was the first time she had gone down to Pinstripes while it was open to the public, in full swing and brimming with life. She went through the front door, following behind a well-dressed couple who were examined and allowed inside by Jonas.

  “Evening, Daisy. Rest well?” The office had been closed all week, but Grey had reopened Pinstripes that night to keep the clientele appeased. That still gave all the “warehouse” workers a few days to recover, and Jonas looked his normal self that night – pleasant and calm.

  “I did, Jonas. And you?”

  “Just fine.” He let her inside, and she gazed around at the clusters of magicians, mana addicts, and their friends chatting in groups, playing billiards, or drinking near the stage while listening to Regina’s mystic and charming but almost mournful piano songs. Vinnie was behind the bar, making drinks for patrons already half-drunk and swarming about, while Amelia rushed in and out of the kitchen with dishes loaded with salty snacks. At one table near the stage sat Angel, Rudolph, and Andre – like Daisy, all off that day while the employees who tended the speakeasy were put back to work and given an extra night of pay. Frisk and Vicks were at another table nearby, chatting with some people that Daisy thought she recognized from that first night at the Gin Fountain.