An Ordinary Man

He was just across the street from it. That godforsaken, gaudy, garish… godawful place. Daniel quickly ran out of descriptors strong enough to describe the casino known as the Lucky Heart. He wished he could tear it down brick by brick. He wished buildings sunk into the ground if someone glared angrily enough at them. He wished that he’d never seen or heard of it.

But he knew better. The casino was just a set of walls and an enchantment. July’s memory and Undermoon’s brand weren’t gone because of a building. It was because of a little shit of a squirrel and his pet demon. If he was going to rage, he had to focus it in that direction. He knew that, but it was a lot easier to hate a building. A building was something he couldn’t possibly fight against, and it couldn’t really fight back.

It was only then that he saw, leaning against one side of the leftmost heart-shaped archway that gated the entrance, smoking a cigarette with one leg crossed behind the other like he was posed for a magazine cover shoot. That perfectly gelled hair and perfectly tailored suit and perfectly brushed tail… all of him was infuriating. The owner of the casino, member of a demon-cursed family— Gin LaChance.

Something swelled within the man named Daniel Wells. He moved across the street with singular purpose.

“You,” he said.

“You,” LaChance imitated him, then laughed at his own impression. “Come on, man. A baby face like you has no business trying to sound tough. Hey, maybe you should try fixing that! Plenty of good Sages here in Starlight.”

Daniel was angry enough to ignored his taunts. “Why do you do this? What are you getting out of it?”

The squirrel made a show of looking behind him. “This? The lights and the glamor? What do I get out of it? Well, it’s something to do.”

“You know what I mean.”

LaChance lowered the cigarette and let some ash drop to the pavement. One got the impression that he’d taken up the habit only because he thought it’d make him look glamorous. After a perfectly dainty cloud had been expelled from his lungs, he answered.

“Do you know what kind of person cheats in a casino with no money?”

“Someone like you?”

“Someone who wants things money can’t buy. Someone who wants the feeling of being admired by everyone around them. Someone willing to bet everything for a chance at the top. I was born rich, you know— money doesn’t mean shit to me. When someone comes to this casino looking to cheat, I know I’ve found a kindred spirit.”

This was the most ridiculous bullshit Daniel had ever heard. “You’re already at the top, man. That’s what being rich is! It’s not my problem if you’re insecure about your family’s money.”

The squirrel just rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t last a fuckin’ week in my family, kid.”

Daniel was a little taller than LaChance, and definitely not younger. “I don’t care about your daddy issues, I want you to fix the crap your demon did.”

For a moment, Gin LaChance stared into the distance, lost in his own world. “Ah, you know about that, huh?”

What the hell had he been talking about up to this point? “Of course I did, you idiot! I saw what you did to July today! And Undermoon.” He added hastily.

The squirrel turned and looked at him closely again. “Oh… I saw you earlier, didn’t I?”

Daniel punched Gin LaChance right in the nose. It was the most satisfying moment of his life so far. He’d proven himself wrong about his own capabilities, and he was rewarded by the sight of the squirrel stumbling backwards, his cigarette departing out of sight. He didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing the squirrel hit pavement, but the bloodied nose at least gave him some solace.

“Fuck! Shit!” LaChance steadied himself on the other side of the arch. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“There’s no police in Starlight, right? So, are you ready to deal with the consequences?”

“Of what?”

Daniel would definitely have hit him again if his arms had been several meters longer, but he hadn’t closed the distance between them. A mistake. “You know what.”

LaChance spat just a bit of blood on the pavement. “I’m better with my fists than you think, you little shit. You cross me and you’ll end up worse off.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Daniel lied. “I want July’s memory back. Undermoon’s brand, too, ideally.”

“Moron,” the squirrel growled. He was recovering some of his superior attitude already. “The only way you can reverse that by killing the demon, and if you could do that I’d forgive you for the shit you just pulled. I was going to help your stupid fucking witch!”

This was enough to temporarily halt Daniel’s righteous anger. Something felt off. “Hold on. You’re the one who made the deal with the demon.”

“You think I like having my soul on a leash?” LaChance spat, “This thing just latched onto me one day, alright? This is a hostage situation, not a fucking negotiated settlement.”

Imagine that. Daniel had just learned something brand new, beyond what any of his friends had known up until now. And all it had taken was the guts to act. It’s not that he felt even an ounce of pity for LaChance, but this brought a new perspective on things. Then again, it might be a lie. Only… the demon itself was the enemy. The squirrel was an asshole, but not capable of stealing memories and souls and the like. He’d only been thinking about how to defeat LaChance until now, but a second possibility, more direct, had presented itself.

“Who’s stronger, the demon or the city?” He asked.

“What?”

“Could the city… enforce an agreement on the demon?”

The squirrel shook his head. “Already thought of that. The demon has to agree to the bet, and it’s never done that for me. The only thing that could tempt a demon is food, and with its teeth to my throat, I got nothing to bargain with.”

Daniel knew, on some level, that he’d lose his nerve if he didn’t plunge into things as quickly as possible. “The confidence you stole from the witches against my soul. I’m offering that bet.”

“You didn’t even include me in the… shit. Shit!” LaChance clutched at his skull and stomped back towards the casino, but he stopped halfway there. Slowly letting his arms drop to his side, he turned back. He was angry now, not just annoyed. But he was also afraid. Daniel may not have understood much about demons or enchantments, but he knew what he was about to hear, and he was dreading it. He’d just made an offer he didn’t even understand, and the stakes were now higher than he could even grasp.

“The demon… the demon accepts your offer… You god damned maniac.”

—

“I’m worried for him,” July said. She hadn’t been able to rest or relax at all in the time Lace Wells had been in another room placing a call; A call that was supposed to be helping her get her memories back. And yet, it wasn’t her memory that bothered her at the moment.

“Daniel? He’ll be okay. He’s tougher than you think. He’s tougher than he thinks, actually.”

If only it was that simple. The fact was this: that Daniel was July’s responsibility. Even her patron had said as much. That was why she still remembered him— he was a burden rather than a boon. Ironically, that had made him a comfort. One familiar face in a sea of strangers. If he hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have been able to trust these other people claiming to know her.

“I’m going to go find him,” she said.

The ferret tilted his head at her, contorting his tube-shaped body like the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner. “Do you want to know how my call went first?”

“Yes, but I can tell its bad news. You weren’t gone long enough to have gotten through to the Great Sage.”

“I got his secretary, who seemed genuinely concerned. I’m waiting for a call back, but…

“But we can’t guarantee we’ll get one in time.”

“Yeah.” His expression lost its usual disarming softness, just briefly. He sat down on the floor across from her again, spreading his legs wide and knocking the empty food containers around. “I’m here for you though. You’re not just someone I hired for a job— you’re my cousin’s good friend. And a celebrity!”

A joke. He was trying to lighten the mood. That was the kind of person he was— not so good at dealing with heavy subjects. He shuffled uneasily as he began to perceive that he’d offended her, but it was more that he just wasn’t funny. That is, she recognized his intent, and felt no ill-will.

Was this how she saw people all the time? So shrewd and calculating? Or was this only the current version of herself?

“Thank you,” she returned to the original subject, “I appreciate it. Do you have any other ideas?”

To his credit, Lace recovered instantly. “For sure! There’s an entire family of sorcerers in town, and if I tell them that a witch already tried and failed, they’ll be tripping over themselves to help. I don’t need to tell them that they’ll be helping the witches.” He winked. No lesson learned on his part, but she forced a smile.

“In that case, I’m going to join Daniel outside. Maybe a look around with help me… think of something. I can still do rituals after all.” The curator nodded and gave her his blessing, eventually returning to the back room. July rose to her feet for the first time in a few hours. It felt more like years. Stretching and brushing at her hair, she went to the door, pulled it open and walked outside.

She wasn’t in the right place. There were no streets or lights, just night sky. A beautiful night sky, for sure, but not the right kind of beautiful. Under her feet was not stone, but plush grass. Looking behind, she saw nothing but more sky and more grass up until an abrupt drop off. She was on top of a hill or mountain, and in the middle of the grass sat Pewter Undermoon, completely oblivious to her presence.

They’d told her about the mountain god earlier. If July was here now, and it wasn’t Undermoon’s request, then the mountain must have brought her here on its own. Implicitly, this was a request— help Pewter.

“Hey,” she said gently, causing the cat-person to truly, literally leap several centimeters into the air.

“Miss July! How did you get up here?”

“I’m not sure. I was trying to leave the museum.”

“Oh,” Pewter frowned. “The mountain must have done that. I hope it’s still on my side, because the moon… isn’t.”

Now that she had the chance to look closer, July could see that this was a small plateau on the very top of the mountain, with a flat area large enough for the cat-person to have burned a pentacle into the grass. It was obviously an attempt at a ritual, and given the circumstances, it could only be an attempt to re-establish a covenant with the moon. Still, her lost memories nagged at her, making her doubt that assumption just a little.

“Are you trying to become a witch again?”

“Yes,” said the cat-person, “But I’ve spoken to the new moon, and she says that I’m not worthy. That I never dedicated myself to my pact.”

She wanted to sit and comfort them, but didn’t. Couldn’t. The real July would have known the right things to say to propel them to success, but not her. She was an imposter. What could she do but try, struggling against her reality?

“Do you know what the problem was? You seem perfectly diligent to me.”

“Trust,” they said simply. “The moon doesn’t believe that I trust it enough. Unless I bare my entire soul to it, I can’t ever be a true witch. I suppose you don’t remember enough to be disappointed, but… you were wrong to put your trust in me, Miss July.”

She had known this person when they were young, and she was only a little less young. They still seemed young, really: so eager, yet so self-absorbed. It was cute. She must have felt that same way at the time. How did she respond to it back then? Was that even still the right way?

“I thought the same thing when I started. I have no idea how I managed.”

Pewter’s head pivoted on their fluffy neck to face her, a kind of furious disbelief lighting up their eyes, visible even though they were human-sized at the moment. “You’re amazing, Miss July. You just needed to realize it. You’ll realize it again, even if…” Their face darkened as they realized the ending of their own sentence.

“Maybe,” she pretended to agree a little, “But right now I can’t help but feel like giving up. That version of me kept going.”

“It must have been hard back then, but you you have more now. More connections. More instincts. You must have some memories that help you.” They looked so desperate. They didn’t want to be responsible for the destruction of the Tolling Witch. Without meaning, she laughed at the absurdity of it.

“You know, I think I was sent here to cheer you up, and now look at me.” She wasn’t sure if it was a newly found strength, or a sudden weakness, but she finally sat down on the grass next to Pewter. She felt suddenly that she wanted to say something. To tell her story. She also felt in that moment that she no longer wished to be Bella July. For that reason, she broke her agreement with her past before she could change her mind.

“I was born into a coven. I was being trained to be a witch from the moment I was born. No, even earlier than that. The used rituals to get me out of the womb smoothly, without any drugs. I wasn’t allowed to eat dinner until I’d drawn a good-enough ritual circle.”

“I never knew there was a coven for the time god,” they said. There was a twinkle in their eye, reflected by the moon. They hadn’t understood.

“It wasn’t for the time god. It was… a human. A human who became a diety, like the old stories of Christ. Not the same guy, though. The coven was started here on this planet.”

“Oh.” Pewter looked at her for a long few seconds, the gears in their head turning almost audibly. “I’m sorry,” they finally finished.

“Don’t apologize. Save it for when you’ve done something wrong.”

They nodded. “I’m-

She glared at them.

“I won’t. So what happened? You became a witch, but not with the coven.”

“I was terrible at being the kind of witch they wanted me to be, so I ran away from home.” she almost choked on the words. It felt disgusting letting them out. And yet, she couldn’t stop. It was like vomiting. “I was sixteen, a little too old for that kind of thing. Honestly, I probably would have turned around and come back, except that while I was hiding in the woods, a storm started up. It was a bad one. Bad enough that an old tree broke at the trunk and fell on top of me. I, uh, prayed that I wouldn’t die, and the time god answered. Of course, there was a price. I’m a contradiction in reality, you see. Everything I do is to keep my existence from destroying the timeline.”

Pewter listened to everything, their face not betraying a single emotion. And yet, that felt like honesty. This was a small part of the real person, July understood. They lived their life by acting out the reaction expected of them. This time, they weren’t doing that. They were thinking and considering for themself. She’d lived the same way for years.

“That’s awful,” they said. “But I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad that I met you.”

It was wrong that their words lit a little warmth in her heart, but they did. “I’m just saying, I never had a choice to trust my patron. If I’m more successful than you, it’s not because I’m better. I think that’s why she… I… the other version of me never talks about this. Now that you know, you can’t go back to seeing me the way you did before.”

Pewter just blinked. “What do you mean? Nothing’s changed.”

“Maybe you don’t see all the implications yet. I’m an abomination, but an essential one. If I die, it could mean the end of everything. A god saw fit to put everything at risk for me. And I agreed to it. I knew the stakes. That should change the way you look at me. If it doesn’t, you’re making a mistake.”

Pewter nodded and closed their eyes. For a full minute, the two of them sat in silence. That is to say, the two of them were silent, but the world around them never stopped. There were still insects up here on hub-and-spoke. And wind. The sounds of nature. All the things that were threatened by her choice.

The cat-person’s eyes snapped open. “I think I get it,” they said. “You don’t actually trust your patron after all. That’s what you’re missing.”

“What?”

“It made a choice, too. The choice to give you that choice. When you became a witch, it was an act of trust.” They rose to their feet; maintaining a catlike spring even while maintaining a humanoid form. July saw now that they were holding a curved ritual dagger. The sort you’d use to to seal a pact with blood. Of course, she’d never used one, since her blood was all over when she’d made her pact, but she’d seen them. She’d seen pacts sealed many times in her youth.

Pewter was going to try again, that much was clear. She wouldn’t have been able to do it, herself. She didn’t understand their intent, but she was starting to grasp the meaning of their words. It was true: she didn’t trust the time god any more. Whatever memories had served her in that were lost to her now. If she could learn to trust her own self, that version of her that existed when she woke up that morning, then she might have been able to reclaim it, but she lacked that trust, too. There was no faith left in her.

“Miss July,” they said, standing in the middle of their burned circle. “I’ve done everything by half measures. This body is only some of what I want. The story I told you was missing the most important details. I’m afraid of turning back, and I’m afraid of going forward. I never took what my patron offered. I never gave what was demanded.” Their body changed again, their cat tail and ears vanishing. They’d turned off all of their changes, leaving holes in their clothes. Their skin was a little rougher, less radiant.

Something felt wrong.

“Pewter, what are you planning to do?”

“I’m a masochist, Miss July. My first idea was to wait for the full moon and give myself to it. To lose my mind in service. But the moon isn’t just one thing. It changes. This is a rebirth, and all I need to do is give something irreplaceable. I’ll force myself to stop being afraid, and I’ll force the moon to accept me. I’ll sell my soul for power, like a witch should.”

Raising the knife, the angled it towards their left eye. July was on her feet all at once, running to intercept them. They couldn’t. They couldn’t know they’d even survive. They couldn’t know that the moon would listen.

That was faith. To believe without knowing the result ahead of time.

—

“Forrest! I need you.”

Even though Gin’s head was buzzing with all kinds of demonic bloodlust, he had managed to make his way into his office without falling over or otherwise embarrassing himself. When he’d left for his smoke break, he’d left Forrest there with a glass of fine whiskey, a treat to show his appreciation. He didn’t like that he had to interrupt that, but this was more than urgent: it was existential.

“Sir?” Forrest looked up from the leather seat by the side of the table. He was seated to the side, facing the left wall.

“We have a situation. One more bet. I need you to deal.”

“No need,” came an insufferable piece-of-shit voice coming up behind him. Hadn’t even gotten this asshole’s name yet, not that it’d matter for much longer. “The game I have in mind doesn’t use cards.”

“Fine,” Gin said. “You should clear out, Forrest. This is… extra-curricular.”

Forrest looked first at Gin, then at the challenger, and finally back to Gin. He blinked a few times. “I’ll stay and witness,” he said.

“Listen. This… this is going to leave a body. Either his or mine.”

“Hey, I’m the only one with my soul on the line,” said the self-destructive asshole. Gin wheeled around to give him a piece of his mind.

“No, you dumbass! If you empty the demon’s stomach then that’s the same as me not feeding it. I have to play for it, and my soul’s on the line. Obviously, I’m not going to just roll over for you.”

The interloper didn’t seem fazed at all. “Ah,” he said. “Too bad for you, I guess.”

“You don’t care that you dragged another person’s soul in, even? Do you understand what that means?”

The guy thought for a second. “Well, it sounds bad, but I don’t really get it.”

Gin was used to being upset with people who were unreasonable, but he was actually starting to feel angry in a way he’d only ever been with his brother. “You… I don’t even know what to call you! It’s the soul! Your body and your thoughts and your everything else! I’ve had to do some unfortunate things to keep it fed, but I never did anything as fucked up as you!”

A small voice. Forrest’s. “Yes, you did.”

Quiet came over them all. A few long seconds passed.

“What?”

“You know that people were hurt by that thing. That’s why you hired me. You felt bad when you saw it happened to me. You only ever went after cheaters after that. Until today.”

Gin looked at Forrest, who had almost seemed to transform back into the way he was before. The badger hadn’t said anything this forward since the day they met. It wasn’t the same, though. No, not quite. His confidence hadn’t come from his actual talents, and he’d been firey and opinionated. Right now, Forrest was still sitting demurely, sipping the whiskey. He had a calculating mind, and that was exactly what made him so useful. The badger was wrong: he was more than a pity hire; he was proof that the demon couldn’t ruin your life forever. All you had to do was pull yourself up.

“I’m ready. I’ll witness whatever happens. And if you die, then the casino is mine, right? You said so.”

Gin thought he could actually hear the demon chuckling at him from inside his head. He felt calm. More than he should. “It won’t be death. But yeah, you’re the only one around here who could manage this place other than me.” He turned back to the asshole. “Fine. Name your game, whoever you are.”

“Daniel.”

Well, it was at least a little more convenient to have a name for him.

“The competition, Danny boy. Name It.”

He made a face indicating that he’d received the slight, but didn’t consider it annoying enough to warrant a direct response. “We’re going to play Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

Oh. Oh, that was rich. Daniel figured he was picking a game that was maximally chaotic. A game he could win just by luck. Yet again, he was showing himself to be an amateur. RPS is a pure battle of wills. A mental game. The ultimate mental game. The demon sensed Gin’s growing confidence and thrashed around his inner essence like a caged animal. No matter how much it ate, it was never sated, like a hungry ghost. He’d almost be inclined to feel sorry for it if he didn’t hate the thing.

“Fine. Best two out of three?”

“Three of five.” Daniel was trying to sound like a hardass, but he didn’t have a plan. He was insisting on a change because his instincts told him that going along with Gin was unwise.

The squirrel was starting to relax and regain his composure. Even if the stakes had been upped, the competition hadn’t gotten any harder. Victory was assured, and the worst thing that could happen to him was effective exile from town— bad, but not too bad. It was going to be a terrible tragedy, no doubt about that, but that really wasn’t his problem.

“Alright, sure. My man Forrest can be our impartial referee.” He went past the table where Forrest was seated to his desk, where the whiskey was still waiting for him. “Drink before we start?”

“I don’t drink,” Daniel replied curtly.

“Well, that’s a shame. This could be your last chance, you know.”

“Why are you stalling?”

Gin turned around and gave him his most charming smile. He didn’t even need to lie. “Because it pisses off the demon. I gotta do what it says, but I don’t gotta be nice about it.”

Daniel crossed his arms, his eyes darting sideways. The little idiot was actually thinking for once. “Why do you have to obey it? If the city intervenes, maybe you’d get out of it.”

The ice clacked into the glass. Gin poured it straight. “You’re the one who decided the city was stronger than a demon, not me. Even if you’re right, the city only ever ejects the people it doesn’t like. A deal with the devil, though? That’s binding.”

The goofy little man’s serious facade finally cracked, just for a moment. “But, you said that if it agreed…” He trailed off, probably realizing that he was acting on a conversation he’d largely invented in his head.

“I say a lot of shit,” Gin said. “Anyway, shall we?”

Daniel tried to hide his worry, and he didn’t do a horrible job of it. Not good enough, though. “Yeah. All I need to do is win.”

And all I have to do is feast the demon thought in Gin’s head.

The two of them stood on either side of the table, while Forrest remained seated, hands tented over his snout. The badger’s focus and attention to detail had always been perfect. Feeling no need to worry or overthink things, Gin chose arbitrarily: paper. Daniel, looking as tense as a wound spring, threw scissors. He seemed almost surprised when he saw it. The first match went to the challenger.

“Not bad,” said Gin. Two more wins, and you’ve killed me. Or worse!”

“I’m not turning back,” Daniel shot back, but there was just the slightest waver in his voice.

Second round. They tied several times before before once again landing on the same result. Two for Daniel. One more and it would be all over. You could almost see the little man’s heart beating against his ribcage, even though he was winning. Gin, by contrast, wasn’t worried at all. The LaChance family luck made it impossible for him to lose, but he wanted to prove something anyway. Even if it was just the three of them in the room, he wanted it to be clear who was the better player.

“I’d better shape up,” Gin jokes. “Tell you what, I’m going to throw rock next. Take it easy on me?”

“Shut up!”

A guy like Daniel would destroy himself trying to decide if he should throw paper or scissors. Even as his hands moved, the dilemma could be read on his face. Gin threw scissors and kept his eyes on his opponent’s expression. He wanted to see it fall apart.

Daniel said nothing, trying unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment. No matter how irrational it was, the first two rounds had given Daniel a feeling of invincibility, which was now collapsing.

Give him to me said the demon. There’s nothing in your rules that says I can’t have a taste.

That was true. The demon was trying to take the guy’s entire soul, after all, so a little nibble ahead of time wasn’t really out of line. He hated to keep giving the thing presents, but his instinct to maximize his odds and twist the knife won out. Gin willed the demon go eat.

All of this thinking occurred in the brief seconds following the reveal of their throws for the third round, and just afterwards, Daniel swayed in place, blinked twice, and then locked eyes with Gin.

“What the hell did you just do?”

“Me? I threw scissors.”

“No! You know what I mean!” Daniel tried to slam the table with his hand, but it was a bit too low so he ended up flailing like an idiot. “You made that thing take my memory!”

The squirrel brought his manicured nails up to his chin, making a show of thinking. “Did I? I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“You’re cheating! The game isn’t done yet, so that thing can’t just attack me!”

Forrest spoke up before Gin could invent a snappy comeback. “Sir. I understand you’re frustration, but all of this is within the rules.” His glass was nearly empty, bu the shaking of the liquid was still just visible. Forrest was nervous, but he knew the truth of the situation.

And yet, Daniel seemed even less willing to pursue a conflict with a third party. Or maybe he thought it over enough to realize that the badger was right. Either way, he complained no more, only letting his disgust show on his face. “Alright, I’ll keep playing.”

“You never had a choice,” Gin replied with a pleasant smile.

His opponent’s movements lagged. He was trying to keep fighting, but he’d been shaken. That was, after all, the entire point. He threw paper again, and Gin, who easily guessed as much, threw his scissors. Now, they were tied.

Daniel said nothing this time, only averted his eyes. He was sweating and panting, obviously panicking. Couldn’t blame him at all, really; he was on his last legs. The demon was sluggish in Gin’s head, having gorged itself on three entire sources of confidence in one night, but that didn’t mean it would spare its prey for even a moment.

Daniel would throw paper again. He who lacked spine would project the same onto his opponent. He would never guess that Gin could throw the same thing three times.

“This is exciting, isn’t it? Are you ready for our last game?”

Daniel had his hand still out, as if he could delay the inevitable by simply never letting the previous round end. The tragedy was reaching its climax now, as this foolish man who acted on some misguided desire for revenge would lose everything. Gin couldn’t change that ending, even if he tried. He was simply an observer of the final fate of the foolish.

But then something changed.

There was a clattering sound and a very familiar voice. “Relax, Daniel. Don’t overthink it.”

It was none other than Bella July, who’d appeared just inside the room without opening the door. When Forrest saw her, he dropped his glass, which shattered into a million shards spreading over the hardwood like the seeds of future foot wounds, waiting for harvest.

“Evening, Miss July,” greeted Gin. “You witches certainly have a knack for breaking into places.”

“We do,” she agreed.

“I’ll be happy to fulfill my end of our deal as soon as I’ve finished this business here.”

“It might not be needed,” said the witch. “I’m just here to see how this ends.”

“July, I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I thought I could do this, but I don’t remember how. I don’t know what my plan was.”

She shrugged. “Don’t you think you would have accounted for that when you made the plan?”

Daniel’s reply was simple. “No.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that. But listen: there’s a reason I told you not to overthink it. You’re here because it felt right to be here. Because you found the resolve to throw yourself at a problem with the intent of resolving it. And that…”

“…Is a kind of ritual!” A squeaky voice finished her sentence as the witch from the mountain somehow materialized just out of Gin’s line of sight. His office was becoming a conference hall.

“You can all watch, if you like. Just… mind the floor.”

“Ah,” Undermoon noticed the glass shards. “I should have brought my broom!”

This was a farce, and even Forrest was grinning to himself. Ridiculous. The only other person maintaining a sensible level of composure was Daniel.

“I really don’t want to die like this,” he said.

July tapped her staff on the floor. “Then don’t. Choose to win.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Daniel said.

“So? What do you lose from believing?”

“Nothing, but-

The cat cut him off. “Mister Wells, I know all about being afraid of failure. Of the things you can’t control. Imagine you didn’t, though. Imagine what you can become if you forge ahead anyway?”

Daniel smiled, just slightly. “I wouldn’t be me. But I get your point.” He turned back to Gin with about ten percent more fire in his eyes. Somehow, this little pep talk had worked for him. It wasn’t enough, though: there were realities in the world which needed to be worked around. Accidents of birth, laws of physics… and supernatural interventions. A part of Gin had come to feel just the lightest touch of empathy for this man. Too late, though. This was the end of the road. Without a word, Gin raised his fist to indicate he was ready to throw. Daniel did the same, but he kept his other hand close to his chest, grasping at something underneath his clothes. They beat the air with their fists, counting out the last three ticks before death. Gin chose scissors.

Daniel chose rock.

—

For about a second, LaChance looked… probably exactly as surprised as Daniel. If a picture of their faces in that exact moment had existed, it would probably be very amusing. There wasn’t enough time to take that picture, though, because that look only lasted for the briefest fraction of a second before the squirrel began convulsing.

His badger friend leapt up and, deftly avoiding the broken glass all over the floor, moved to catch the boss before he fell over backwards. Just as badger laid hands on squirrel, the latter suddenly shoved him away. He was stable again, standing tall and looking— and Daniel was surprised that this was possible— even more self-satisfied than he had before.

“Don’t touch me! You’d be better used cleaning up this office.”

The little badger stopped himself from falling over, but only just. He was trembling. “You’re not the boss.”

“Of course I am. Unless you quit. Or I quit. This city has nothing I want.”

It suddenly occurred to Daniel what had happened. “You’re the demon,” he said. “You took over.”

“Indeed,” said July. “I remember everything again.” She turned to Undermoon, a smile lighting up her face.

She looked beautiful. Radiant, even. Daniel had never seen her smile like this.

The cat looked just as pleased. “Welcome back, Miss July. How do I look?” Daniel noticed that the pupil of their left eye was pure black, like a simply-drawn cartoon eye.

“No change,” she answered.

“Then, the new moon is my patron. Officially, now.”

“How nice for you all,” said the LaChance-Demon. “And yes, since I wasn’t fed properly, I reserve the right to take possession of this soul. You’re wrong to say I’m not Gin LaChance, however. I have that soul. It’s mine. That person is myself. I was prepared to accept being Daniel Wells, but I’m much happier at how things turned out. Congratulations on your victory, sir.”

Daniel didn’t really feel insulted, but he also didn’t feel happy. He had won. His plan had been nothing more than a flawed set of assumptions and gut feelings, but he was the won who’d emerged victorious… Kind of. He had won, but his enemy, the demon, seemed to have won just as much. Only Gin LaChance had lost. Sure, he was one of Daniel’s least-favorite people in the world, but even that kind of animosity only went so far. He’d never been very good at holding grudges, and all his contempt had left him to look for greener pastures.

Undermoon had wanted to avoid this, Daniel thought. He felt like a murderer.

The badger had made his way over to their side of the room, away from the squirrel. What was his name again? Ah, LaChance had called him Forrest before. “Um… I know there’s no reason for you to do anything for me… or for Mr. LaChance… but you are witches.”

“Have no fear,” Undermoon said. “Everything is already set.”

The Demon was falling into the boss’ chair at that moment, letting out a burst of air that sounded very dismissive. “If you could kill me— within the next few minutes, mind— then you’d still have the chance to put that joker’s personality back. But I can’t die! I’m a concept, not a person. If you want to kill the body, you can probably manage that— Four on one and all. Kind of defeats the purpose, though. Plus I’ll just move to a new body. One of you want to be my new friend?”

“Mr. LaChance never once hit me,” Forrest said. “I know he wasn’t a great person, but I don’t want him to die like this.”

The demon was upending the entire bottle of whiskey into Gin’s mouth. Daniel grimaced. “What does he mean when he says he’s a ‘concept’?”

“It’s his nature,” Undermoon answered. “A demon isn’t really a single thing, any more than a God. Or the moon, for that matter. Humans believe that an evil person and a good person are fundamentally different objects. They sometimes believe that a good person can become evil, transforming the nature of their soul.”

The demon laughed as it slammed the bottle back down on the table. “Despair! Doubt! Desire! Shit like that! The only way to kill me would be to stop all of humanity from feeling any of it. That’s not possible. I’m young for a demon, but I know perfectly well how you… fleshborn souls operate.”

Undermoon grinned. “Miss July, will you do the honors?”

She nodded back at them. “First, I want to ask Daniel something: do you think I can do it? Can I stop all the bad things in the world to purge this creature?”

Daniel didn’t need to think hard about it. “No, you can’t. But you don’t need to. Because people also believe that evil people can become good. And that belief in redemption… that’s a ritual too, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she agreed. “That’s not actually the plan, though.”

“Oh, come on,” Daniel felt cheated, just when he thought he had everything figured out.

July tried to reassure him. “Lots of other witches could do it that way! You’re completely correct. Full marks! It’s just that I have something else in mind for Mr. Demon.”

Said demon was leaning back in the chair and looking at the ceiling. “You might as well just call me LaChance. Or Gin. Or whatever. I guess I don’t care.”

July stepped forward with a flourish. “I have to say, demon, you’re pretty resourceful. You’ve got a Great Sage, two witches, a handful of gods, and one ordinary man all arrayed against you. And only the ordinary man has had any luck… so far.”

“Uh huh. Listen, I wanted your man to win. I didn’t think he would, and I was absolutely going to sink my teeth into him, but he didn’t really beat me. I told you that already.”

July ignored the outburst entirely, as if she’d written a script and refused to deviate. “You’re a parasite, Mr. Demon. Not of the singular person of Gin LaChance, but of the human collective consciousness. And if that host died, so would you. By the way, are you familiar with the concept of entropy?”

“Sure. Maybe you’re right, then. Maybe my death is inevitable as yours.” He swung LaChance’s feet up onto his desk. The claws were neatly trimmed. “That’s a lot of magic, though. You’d need to prepare a really fancy ritual for it, I bet. I’m not in any rush to kill you, but I won’t let you just set that up, either. It’s impossible without a lot of time and resources, which I happen to know you lack.”

July suddenly turned to Daniel. “What do you think, Daniel? Do you think I can do the impossible?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and then stopped. Thought about it. Wondered what answer she was looking for, and decided it was his answer. “I think I want you to do it. I don’t care if it’s impossible. This thing pisses me off.”

“Well said,” she smiled widely back at him, spinning her staff around in her hand. “If something is impossible, I can’t do it. Not alone.”

“Get to the point,” the demon sighed.

“I will not. I’m enjoying myself far too much. Mr. Demon, you probably aren’t aware that I just came from on top of the mountain, helping the Cosmic Witch regain their power.”

“She did,” agreed Undermoon.

“And from the top of that mountain, we saw the truth. We saw what the Great Sage saw, no doubt.”

“You know,” said the demon, “Your lifespan is still shorter than mine. You’re only burning up your own time, here. What, praytell, did you see?”

“We saw that Starlight City has rearranged itself into one giant ritual circle, centered right on this building.”

“Wh—

July tapped her staff on the ground, cutting him off. For the second time, the body of Gin LaChance shook and convulsed, and then finally calmed and lay still. It did fall off the chair before the calming could happen, though.

“Shit,” said the squirrel from the ground. Something about the tone of his words suggested that it was the real Gin LaChance again.

“Boss!” Forrest ran back to his boss, who pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at the badger with eyes that were, for once, genuinely kind.

“Thank you, Forrest.”

And then, he rolled over and threw up onto the glass-strewn floor, only missing his employee with most of it.

“The rest of you are banned from my casino,” he said once he’d regained the use of his throat.

—

“He didn’t even give you your prize from this afternoon!” Daniel complained as the trio left the Lucky Heart. It felt like years since he last got to complain to July.

“He will,” she assured him. “He just needs some time. You need to give some grace to a man who had his soul snatched away.”

“Well, what about you? Shouldn’t he be extra nice to a woman whose memories he stole after she saved his life?”

Undermoon suddenly danced ahead of them, having been lagging a bit behind. “Have no fear! I know everything you need to know about your watch, remember?”

Right. That discussion had happened less than a day ago, but it felt like years. “I remember. You said that the symbol is the mark of a witch, and you said you knew something about the watch itself. If I remember correctly, you were dangling it over my head to get me to do you a favor.”

July laughed. “That was a bold move, Pewter. Good for you! You’ve picked up some tricks in the last fifteen years.”

The cat pulled their hat down over their eyes. Daniel could swear they were blushing through the fur. “Anyway! I have a friend with the exact same kind of watch, only it has a different symbol. I’ll take you tomorrow.”

They’d reached the front door of the museum. July put hand on it, and then stopped. For some reason she hesitated.

“Daniel.”

“Hm?”

“I forgot to say… Thanks. You did good today. Without you, things wouldn’t have turned out so well.”

He shrugged. “That’s not true. I didn’t do anything. I mean, I won, but you could have just saved me like you did LaChance, right?”

July smiled again, but this time she looked far-off and wistful. More like her usual stuff. “You were her motivation. And mine.”

Daniel was genuinely confused. “Who?”

“The me who wasn’t weighed down by all these memories. I miss her. I’d forgotten what it was like to have people fussing over you, if I ever really knew in the first place.”

Daniel looked to Undermoon, who betrayed nothing with their own expression. There were secrets that these witches kept from him. Maybe things he couldn’t understand, or maybe things they just didn’t trust him with. He thought that he was pressing hard against a barrier that was slowly shifting, but never quite falling over. He hoped he could push it over some day.

“Anyway!” He suddenly broke the silence. “Lace is going to shit himself when he hears what happened.”

July pushed open the door, and the group went inside.