Moonshine: A Novel (31 page)

I don't know how long the three of us waited there, in that gentle silence. A fountain delicately gurgled and splashed in the distance. Fat beetles buzzed around the roses and gaudily colored flowers. My tears wet the earth beneath me, but the lazy warmth of Shadukiam's sun seemed to mute the sound of my sobs. I was profoundly aware of how inappropriate my presence in this garden was. I belonged on dirty New York streets, struggling with my bicycle and hiking up ten flights of creaky tenement steps. And Amir belonged here.

"He'll be okay," Mama said. "You'll see." I rarely cried like this. I could tell she didn't know what to make of it. Neither did I, for that matter.

"I . . . hurt all over, and Kardal is a pillar of smoke, and Nicholas has the worst daddy in the world, he didn't deserve what happened to him, though how can I think that, when he's hurt so many other people? But here I am killing suckers again and Amir is three hundred years old, three hundred, Mama, and he can have all the houris and hot dogs that he wants and I don't understand anything, anything,
anything
because he just won't tell me and so I have to watch as this thing eats him alive and nothing I do can help!"

Mama hugged me tightly. And for all that I'm an inch taller, I felt like a little girl again, protected in that embrace. "It'll be all right," she said, her voice rough. "It'll be all right."

And both she and I knew she couldn't promise that--no one could--but the words felt like a balm between us.

I had recovered myself enough to duck my head in the fountain before Kardal came back. He was less bilious than when he rescued Amir, but even the most casual observer couldn't mistake him for human.

"Is he okay?" I asked, before he could say anything.

Kardal's smoky head seemed to duck in a nod. "For now. Zephyr, I need to speak with you."

I looked back at Mama and Judah. "Alone?"

Again, that vague shift of displaced air. "This is Amir's tale, but I think you have a right to hear it. My brother is in no position to hide it from you any longer."

I felt curiously empty as he led me through an arcaded passageway into another room. This was closed to the elements and filled with various arrangements of divans and large pillows for reclining. I didn't quite know how a pillar of smoke benefited from well-made cushions, but I sat down willingly enough. I was sure I wouldn't like what Kardal was about to tell me, and yet instead of dread I mostly felt relief. At least now I would know.

"What has Amir told you about that vampire mobster? Rinaldo?"

"Just that he wanted my help finding him. And maybe to kill him. He wouldn't tell me why."

Kardal sank to the floor, and I could suddenly make out discrete facial features in the smoke. "Amir is the youngest of the djinn. And he was raised . . . differently. Your world was always more a part of him than any of our brothers. So much has changed since Kashkash's time . . . even since mine. It's hard for Amir to relate to the old ones. And yet, he's also never truly complete in your world. He loves humans, but not in the way you do. To him, you're like a rosebush. Something to enjoy, but not to take seriously. He takes human lovers, he plays in human politics, but he can always come back here where it never truly mattered. Except now."

"Now?"

"Three months ago, to be precise. He found a toy, he made a business proposition, and the one thing he had never anticipated happened: he was bound."

I struggled to piece this together with what I knew of djinn and their rules. "He's someone else's djinn? A human bound him?"

"Not a human. A vampire."

And there it was. Amir wanted to kill Rinaldo because . . . "But I thought djinn couldn't kill their masters?"

I could hardly read any expression on Kardal's malleable face, but he visibly bristled at the term
master
. "We can't kill anyone who becomes the vessel to our power, no. They have to die naturally. But it grows more complicated than this. Because Rinaldo, the mobster with whom Amir thought so foolishly to deal, wanted something quite specific from him. Not a djinn's power, but a djinn's blood."

Blood? I thought of Amir's flaming eyes and Kardal's sulfurous smoke. "But how could djinns have--"

"Think of it as an essence, Zephyr, not a liquid. That's what vampires feed on, and each source contributes something different to their power. They're the bottom-feeders, the parasites of our universe. A scourge, as Amir has too late found out." A lecture about the need for mutual understanding and the perils of prejudice lodged like a gumball in the back of my throat, but I restrained myself.

"But why did Rinaldo want Amir's . . . blood? Why wouldn't he want a djinn's power if he could have it?"

Kardal laughed, a sound like ancient rocks beating against each other. "He's too ignorant to know his own good fortune. I doubt Rinaldo has any idea that he's become Amir's vessel. The first of his kind to control a djinn in over a millennia. He wanted Amir's blood because he wanted to cure himself."

I felt like he was tossing me puzzle pieces, but not only did I not understand how they fit together, they didn't even seem to belong to the same puzzle. "Cure himself. Of being a vampire? Is that possible?"

"Not in an absolute sense. But it's possible for a certain kind of vampire to become another kind. That's what Rinaldo wanted, and a misreading of an ancient book led him to believe that a djinn's blood could change him."

There were different kinds of vampires? "What kind is Rinaldo?"

"An unusual one. Most vampires--the kind you spend your days helping, Zephyr--are what you might call type A. They spread their powers like a disease. As they age, many natural things can damage them: sunlight, vegetables that grow in the earth, running water. But these problems come on gradually. And most vampires, to be honest, will never grow old enough for this to worry them. In exchange for their relative invulnerability, they lack certain powers: shape-changing, infernal strength, an impervious Sway. Type B vampires have almost always
chosen
their dark path. I'm sure humans don't need any excuse to behave unjustly, but these vampires might be the root of your historical enmity."

I shook my head, overcome with the implications of what he was saying. It had never even occurred to me to wonder if there might be something more to those ubiquitous "evil vampire" stories. Had Dracula really existed? "And Rinaldo is a type B?"

Kardal shook his head, and some of his smoke floated to the sides. "Not precisely. He was cursed, twenty years ago, by a very powerful
sahir
. And the curse she chose was very close to a type B vampire. Though Rinaldo is a young vampire, the slightest touch of sunlight will burn his skin. And he lacks all the powers. He can change his shape, but not fully. His strength is only half as much as a normal vampire. Stuck between the two forms, with the worst of each, he decided to change himself."

"Into which type?"

"Amir never found out. Rinaldo just had a taste of Amir's blood before my brother escaped. But it was too late. Regular vampire venom would never have hurt a djinn. But Rinaldo, you recall, had some extra benefits. And one was the particular virulence of his bite. Most creatures he bites are killed too quickly to turn."

I felt vomit creeping up my throat, burning me. I knew what Kardal was saying. I knew because I'd heard this story a hundred times, but I'd never expected Amir . . . "That's what his attacks are? He's turning?"

"No, Zephyr. He's a djinn. It's impossible for us to turn. Our essence isn't so malleable as yours."

"But I thought you said that the venom--"

"It's much too strong. He can't defeat it. But a djinn will die before he turns."

I suppose that some part of me had guessed that long ago. But it shocked me to hear Kardal say it out loud. Amir had known he was dying all this time. "But what good will finding Rinaldo do? If he's dying . . ." I couldn't continue.

"It's a strange thing, the essence parasitism of vampires. It can flow both ways. If Amir can drink Rinaldo's blood, the venom itself will stop the turn from ravaging his body."

I thought of Amir's slack face, the burning grass. "But it's almost too late."

"No more than a day or two. Perhaps sooner, if Rinaldo realizes he's become Amir's vessel. The moment a djinn is bound, the store of power in Shadukiam leaks into your world. The longer the vessel waits before making a wish, the more powerful that wish eventually becomes. And Rinaldo has waited several months."

I shook my head. "And Amir doesn't know where Rinaldo lives? After all this?"

Kardal laughed, but the sound was bleak as a bone pit. "I told you, my brother is young. When they first met, he didn't bother to follow him. When Rinaldo summoned him, the vampire was quite careful not to reveal his location."

A day or two. I'd suspected his time was short, but not that short. Amir had told me he'd discovered Rinaldo's location, but after hearing Kardal's story, I realized that must have been a lie. Given his desperate situation, if he'd truly found Rinaldo he would have hunted him down immediately, not gone on a tour of the city with me and my mother. He'd known he was about to die. And so he tried to make sure that at least Judah's story would have a happy ending.

I succeeded, with stomach-clenching effort, to hold back another rush of tears. "Can I see him?" I asked.

"Be gentle, Zephyr," Kardal said, but he showed me the way.

Amir was sitting on a dirt floor deep under Kardal's palace. The only light came from a single lamp in the center of the room, so that half of Amir's face was hidden in deep, wavering shadow. At least he was awake.

"What's he doing down here?" I whispered.

"Kardal prefers I don't singe his carpets, that's all," Amir said. He turned to me, a strained smile on his gaunt face. His irises were dull and dark as two charred lumps of coal. A haze of smoke seemed to hover over his shoulders and hair, giving him an eerie resemblance to his brother. I walked closer to him.

"That's a fascinating concern for a creature made out of smoke," I said.

His eyes searched my face. "My brother is a peculiar fellow." He hesitated. "And why are you here? Come to rescue me from the dungeon?"

I knelt so my face was level with his. I remembered the first of his attacks that I'd witnessed. Then, he had been struggling against the vampire venom that was slowly devouring him from the inside. But now it was as though I could see him fading. And perhaps I could.

"Kardal told me everything," I said.

His eyes widened.

"She deserved to know, Amir," Kardal said, his voice clipped.

"You have no idea what . . ." He shook his head and looked back at me, almost shyly. "Dare I ask what you're still doing here, then?"

I had to smile. "I just wish you'd told me the truth."

"You'll forgive me for thinking I had a greater chance of securing your help with a few well-placed omissions."

"Well, knowing that the most ruthless mob boss in the city has access to your rapidly burgeoning powers is hardly comforting, but it would have only made me work harder to find him."

Amir briefly touched my hand, the bare tips of his fingers singeing like stray sparks from a fire. "Any harder and you'd be dead now, dear."

It took me a moment to catch my breath. "Did you find anything in those papers, Amir?"

He shrugged. "Sure, if you'd like to know where he delivers his cocaine shipments, or which of his officers control the city blocks. I imagine your friend Lily would love it. For our purposes, however . . ."

"You're giving up."

"Are you aware of any other options?"

His smile was incredulous, not a little patronizing. I slapped him. I could feel the burn on my open palm, but the sensation was perversely fortifying. My voice filled with quiet fury. "You will not do this. I won't allow you to. This attack will pass, and you will get your lazy, spoiled, careless bottom off the ground and
help me save your life
. Do you understand? We will find Rinaldo. I don't care what I have to do."

I don't know how long we stared at each other. My throat rebelled; I coughed, and it seemed to echo deep in my chest and throughout that bare room. Amir grimaced and forced himself up from the floor. It hurt me to watch. He moved like an old man whose joints were nearly frozen with rheumatism, and he had to keep his back against the wall just to stay upright.

"You only met me two weeks ago," he said, his voice soft but very far from mild. "There are hundreds of things you won't do to find Rinaldo. This too shall pass, Zephyr. If I don't mind, you shouldn't, either."

"You can't--"

"Again, you seem to be under the impression that I have some choice in the matter. It's not a tragedy. I've lived quite a long time by your standards."

Which was true. But he didn't look aged or infirm or in need of release from this mortal coil. He looked like a man I'd kissed just yesterday. He looked like a man for whom yawning chasms opened up inside of me when I thought of what we had not yet done. But now there wouldn't be a "yet."

"What should I do?" I hadn't meant to say it aloud. My voice wavered like a vaudeville actress's.

He closed his eyes. In pain, I thought. "Find Judah's mother. Tell Winnie it was a plea sure to meet her. Get some sleep."

"I'm not doing this," I said abruptly. "I'm not." I turned around, but not soon enough to avoid catching a glimpse of Amir's expression: stunned and bleak. I heard him sink back to the floor behind me. Kardal had been standing quietly by the door this whole time. I paused before him.

"For fuck's sake," I said, my voice low though I knew Amir could hear me, "let him burn your carpets. Give him some hot dogs."

Kardal billowed in surprise. "Djinni don't benefit from animal sacrifice."

Amir's laugh seemed to warm the room. "A snack, brother. A strange human snack, that might involve actual dogs but everyone hopes doesn't."

My hands started to shake but I kept walking.

"There was music, Zephyr," he called. "When Rinaldo summoned me. I couldn't see a thing, but there was music on a phonograph. I don't know enough about your music to be sure, but it sounded new. Like what you sang at the speakeasy."