Epilogue

The very morning after Daniel was betting his soul in a cursed casino game, he was downtown with July and Undermoon, looking to close off some loose ends and learn about the watch. That watch… he hadn’t taken it off his neck in days and days. At times, it was like an anchor. Not in a bad way, though: it stopped him from drifting off without a sense of purpose.

In any event, Undermoon had whipped up a batch of strawberry cupcakes in the morning and taken them as an offering to the owner a store called Second Steel in downtown Starlight. Said owner was an artificer named Mr. Theodore Crumble, a large and jovial rabbit man with fur that reminded Daniel of some kind of desert.

He’d only looked at the watch for a couple of seconds before reaching his conclusion. “Yep, it’s just like mine. Looks legit to me.”

“What do you mean by that?” July asked. Daniel should have had something to say, too, but he was distracted by some of the devices in the store. When it came to magic, artificers wove the only spells that hadn’t been looked down on back home, at least not until a suitable non-magical replacement could be invented. In particular, he recognized the device on a table in the corner.

“See something you like, sir?” Crumble turned to him, a merchant’s senses activating.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen this model of spirit detector. They vanished up north after the mundane ones rolled out.”

Theo seemed genuinely interested. “They made a better one?”

“God, no. They’re terrible. Cheaper to manufacture though.”

“…Well, I’m afraid I have to tell you that that one’s broken— Sputtered out one day. I was going to put it in storage.”

In his years working with the detectors, Daniel had seen more than a few break down. Usually, it was a certain invisible gunk that came from certain common spirits. The buildup would eventually block the capacitors, but it was simple to clean.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Crumble shrugged. “If you want. Just don’t break anything I can use for scrap.”

July grunted impatiently. “Can we get back to the original subject?”

“Right,” The rabbit had no problem returning his focus in an instant. “So, they make these watches at the Artificer Central Headquarters. When you get your certification, you also get a watch. I thought this might be counterfeit at first, but its got the right feel. Right smell, too.”

Undermoon, browsing some knicknacks in the opposite corner, suddenly piped up. “You can smell it?”

“Oh, yes. The scent of Central magic is distinct, even with your delightful treats under my nose.” Crumble snatched a cupcake from the pan; A dessert for a dessert.

“So this belongs to an artificer,” Daniel summarized. He’d gotten the back off of the detector and, sure enough, it was all gunked up. Even a professional artificer would have an issue detecting the problem if they weren’t familiar with this specific device as its used in practice, and Mr. Crumble had picked it up second hand.

“Ordinarily, I’d say nobody but an artificer would be likely to have a watch like this, but there is one thing about this watch that bothers me: the engraving.”

“It’s a witch’s brand!” Undermoon added with a little too much satisfaction.

"I believe you, but ordinarily this engraving should be the insignia of a machine god, according to your specialization. This isn’t one of the official ones, which makes this a custom job. They do them for honorary degrees and very important people. If you go to headquarters, there should be some record of it.”

“Couldn’t we just send them a letter or something?” Daniel asked. It would be nice to stop traveling for a bit.

But Mr. Crumble shook his head. “You won’t save any time that way— The watches might be public information, but Head Office will drag its feet if you go in asking about a witch.”

“They don’t want to admit working with one of us, but they want to say they aren’t hiding anything,” July summarized.

“More or less. The politics are a little complicated. I recommend you show up and say you’re doing research on something. Get access to the archives.”

Daniel wondered if it was okay for him to be saying all of this.

The conversation was interrupted by a rapping at the door. Daniel’s whole body tensed up at once when he saw a fluffy orange tail waving on the other side of the glass. Gin LaChance stood, arms crossed impatiently, as if he was waiting for the door to open on its own. He was dressed casually today, with a cropped top and shorts. He had always looked a little young for his formal clothes, but he almost looked a little old for these.

“Come on in! I’m open!” Mr. Crumble called out. “There’s a sign saying so on the door.” He added more quietly.

The squirrel seemed to notice it for the first time. He shrugged and came on in, the classic little bell above the door jangling itself hoarse.

“I was in the area and I saw the lot of you were all together,” he said. “Must be fate.”

“I don’t deal in that kind of thing,” July said firmly.

He shook his head. “That’s not my problem. I still owe you that information, and I pay my debts. I met the owner of that watch from the future.”

Despite everything that had happened, Daniel would never have claimed to have a great poker face. “You knew it was from the future?”

Crumble muttered from behind the counter. “Well, he certainly does now.”

LaChance came over to him, pretending to look over the gadgets on the table. “I met a man who claimed to be a prophet. A moth. He told me that if I wanted to survive, I had to wait until the Tolling Witch came to town and defeat her. He also said that she was looking for the origin of a watch engraved with the same symbol as the brand on his wing. That one, I mean. The circle thing.”

“He was a witch, then,” said Undermoon. “That was his brand!”

This was an unexpectedly complete set of information. Granted, LaChance wasn’t very credible, but as it was, they had a name and a location. “This is pretty good, right? July?”

The chinchilla was still. Silent. She didn’t move a muscle for several seconds. “What made you believe in him? A guy like you must see all kinds of con artists.”

The squirrel’s tongue clicked. “Yeah, but this one was special. The demon was afraid of him. Told me not to fuck with him. It wasn’t afraid of you, for the record.”

“It should have been,” Daniel said.

July remained curiously still. “What was the name of this prophet?”

“I dunno,” said LaChance. “He didn’t volunteer it, and I figured it was part of the whole air of mystery he had going on.”

“Unfortunate,” she said. “There is a witch bound to the God of Fate, but I’m not intended to meet him— Too dangerous for the one who controls the path to meet the one who controls the destination. My patron told me his name once: Ambrose Black.”

Daniel reasoned that this witch must not be that one, since it was July’s patron that put them on this road in the first place. Wouldn’t make much sense to tell her not to meet the guy and then give her a mission that required it. “Well, this is probably some other witch.”

“Maybe, but I’ll take some precautions. Pewter, can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

The cat perked up. “Oh, yes!”

July looked at Daniel again. “Witch things. I need some privacy.” She smiled, but Daniel wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t see through it. She was looking just about as bothered now as she had when she’d lost her memory.

LaChance left the table and went over to her. “Hold it,” he got in her face. “Acknowledge that I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

“Yeah,” July pushed past him without hesitation. For once, he didn’t seem put off by it. As the witches stepped outside, the squirrel returned to Daniel’s side and held his hand out, palm open. He was offering a small, circular object like an ear piece with no wires or partner. There had probably been a couple of them on the table a moment ago. At least, he thought he’d seen something like them.

LaChance, annoyed by waiting for Daniel to act, whispered to him. “Take. Listen.” There was a lot unsaid, but the squirrel’s odd accosting of July must have been a pretext to slip some kind of listening device on her. To listen in her private conversation would be rude. Dishonest. A betrayal of trust. No matter how many secrets the witches were keeping from him, that didn’t make it right for LaChance to be offering this, or for him to accept it.

Daniel took the speaker and shoved it in his ear. July’s deep voice conveyed itself into his ears with crystal clarity.

“How do you feel? You scared the hell out of me last night.”

Undermoon’s high pitch came through, too, equally easy to discern. “I’m sorry, but what you saw was the real me. I had to trust the moon to understand. Because of my honesty, she saved me from harm and took me back.”

“It sounded like it hurt.”

“Very much so.”

July sighed deeply. “I hate to ask, but do you often have… self-destructive urges?”

“Not in the way you think,” said Undermoon. “I want to live. Forever, if I can. It’s just that I can only really feel alive when I’m giving something of myself.”

“I see.”

“You didn’t ask me out here to talk about this, though. You have your own secret, don’t you?”

“You’re right. Unfortunately, I think this may be the last time we ever meet. I wanted you to know that.”

Daniel’s heart began pounding harder in his chest until he thought it would smash through his ribcage. He didn’t turn his head; didn’t face her. He couldn’t blow his cover. Instead, he continued to clean the detector long past the point where he’d finished. LaChance had started chatting up Mr. Crumble, asking about something or other. He was covering for Daniel’s eavesdropping.

Undermoon took a second to answer July. “You’re always welcome here. In the city; in my home— anything I can give you.”

“It’s not that,” she replied. “It’s everything I just learned in there. The Artificer’s main office is near to my hometown. And then there’s this business with the witch of fate. I haven’t told anyone else what I told you: that I’m living on borrowed time. I think I’m being called back.”

“But you don’t know for sure,” Undermoon added.

“It’s a feeling. If I’m right, then I want you to know that it’s fine. I got to live past my time. I got to help make you part of my legacy, and I’m proud of that. And if I’m wrong…”

The cat finished for her. “Then you’ll come back some day.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation seemed to have reached its end, and Daniel heard the shuffling as they moved to come back inside. He didn’t even notice LaChance drawing close until the piece had been snatched from his ear like a hungry seagull snapping food from a hand. Just as swiftly, he’d placed it back on the table alongside another device. It was about as small, but didn’t look the same. Maybe it was the transmitter? Had he placed it on July’s person and somehow recalled it remotely, or did it not even need to be with her? Either one was a little unsettling to consider. Listening devices existed in the magical world with this much power. And he’d used one!

“You only had to hold it,” the squirrel scolded him under his breath. “It’s not a speaker.”

“Why’d you do that?” Daniel asked.

“Guess I thought I owed you.” He walked away again, and said no more.

The witches returned to the store, and Daniel put on a brave face. He pretended he hadn’t heard a thing. Nothing about dying or hurting. Instead, he switched the detector on, pretending to have just finished his cleaning. It hummed to life in his hands.

“Well, I’ll be!” Mister Crumble exclaimed with some satisfaction. “You should join up as an artificer while you’re at Central!”

“Maybe,” said Daniel, not believing it for a moment.

“You should consider it,” July said. “You have some experience, and it’s a useful trade. You’ll have to wait until after we find find the watch, of course.”

“Actually, I’ve already been talking to my cousin about that. I want to come back and help him with his museum.”

Pewter giggled like a little girl. “You’ve been charmed by Starlight City, I take it.”

“No,” he said flatly. “But Lace is the only family I have, and… I’m not going to feel like I belong anywhere as long as I look like this. This isn’t worse than anywhere else.” Someday, maybe, he’d try one of these different bodies out for himself, but the idea still made him feel a little sick. If he imagined himself as a lion or a tiger, something felt off about it.

“This is a town for misfits,” Mr. Crumble told him. “People who don’t fit anywhere else.”

“Speak for yourself,” LaChance spat. “Take it from me, Danny boy: this is a city with two attractive qualities: it’s cheap, and its full of freaks.”

Mr. Crumble shook his head. “Isn’t that what I said?”

—

A few hours before opening time, Gin LaChance returned to his casino. The sun was tiring, but it was the summer, and it would keep trucking for some time yet. He had to prepare to open that night, and he’d strong-armed Forrest into taking a day off, which meant he needed extra time. Until a few minutes ago, he’d been planning to stay closed, but he was longing to be around other people today. His usual hookups weren’t available, and everyone else he knew… well, what was he going to do, hang out with the mountain witch?

Someone was already loitering by the door: a pale-furred fox, slender and androgynous. They were dressed for a night on the town, with a short skirt and fishnets. This wasn’t a customer, though— They were trying to look like one, but Gin sensed a rigid seriousness in them. Maybe they liked to have fun on their off hours, but this was the look of a fox with a mission. Still hot, though.

“We’re closed for another couple hours,” Gin opened casually while going for his key. It was mundane— the city was temperamental about magic locks— so he had to fiddle with the thing to get it to work. It had to be turned the right way around and everything— Huge pain in the ass.

The fox turned to look as they answered. “I know. I’m here to spy on you for the Great Sage.”

It was an admission straightforward enough that even Gin lost his tempo for a second. “You know, typically a spy is supposed to hide it.”

“My heart isn’t really in it. Besides, you already know that the Great Sage is keeping an eye on you.”

Gin had to stop opening the door before he snapped the key off. “I assumed it. He knows a lot more than I realized, though. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but I didn’t take him seriously.”

They just shrugged. “I doubt he knows as much as he pretends. About you, anyway— when it comes to being a sage there’s no one better.”

Ridiculous. He held the door open and looked over at the fox. “Well, want to come in and interview me, then? After last night, I was thinking of staying closed.” Gin was used to flashing his most charming smile, but in this case it was mostly genuine. For as annoyed as he was, this was an enby cute enough to appeal to his gay little heart and there wasn’t even a demon around to make it awkward anymore. Now that he’d squared his debts, some of the weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Mr. LaChance, is this flirting? With a spy whose name you don’t even know?”

“First, I’m pretty confident that you’re the Great Sage’s secretary, Tart Berling. Second, yes. At least you’re working for him and not the Order.”

Tart ran their hand over their snout, lingering with one finger on the nose. The kind of little gesture that drove Gin wild. “The Order, as in the Nine Arrows? You think you caused enough of a problem to get their attention?”

Of course, Gin couldn’t say the full truth. The inability to speak of family business was one thing he shared in common with the average Order member. Whenever someone asked a question like this, he deflected. Admit a small truth to hide the larger one. “Not because of the casino or the demon. It’s my family: we’re rich. Poor people can’t start wars. You coming in or not?”

“Sure.”

Tart stepped inside and was followed by Gin. The former emerged the next morning with a new scent clinging to their fur.