EDWIN MADE it back to the Pointe with little difficulty, managing to navigate the city’s train system successfully. He was quite proud of the ease with which he traversed the city without resorting to the use of magic.
The use of magic was rather secretive, and oh my Fairy, he ought not to have summoned the pizza—the delicious pizza—for them yesterday evening. Trick had desired it, and so had he, but it was most definitely not prudent use of magic.
“And how have things been with your charge, Edwin?”
From his seat on the plush couch, Edwin turned his attention back to Frederick, who was busy in the kitchen preparing supper. Things had calmed down for Frederick’s charge, Abigail, so he had been at the apartment more often in recent days.
“Trick is doing well, though he remains unappreciated at work. My most immediate concern, though, is his residence. While his space is itself functional, the area certainly lacks charm and comfort.” Edwin paused a moment and cringed. “And, when I left earlier today, I saw a box that appeared to contain excrement near the entrance.”
Frederick’s expression took a sour turn. “Hardly ideal, then.”
“No, not at all. And I fear it may not be a safe environment, given the thickness of the grates across the windows and the number of locks on the doors.”
There was a sizzling sound when Frederick tossed his chopped mushrooms into the pan. “Where did you say it was?”
“I believe Trick called it Morningside Heights. It sounds cheerful enough, but the reality leaves much to be desired,” Edwin said, frowning thoughtfully.
“Ah.” Frederick nodded his head and poked at the sautéing mushrooms with a wooden spatula. “Not as bad as it was a decade ago, but still rough.”
Thinking back to the evening he’d spent in Trick’s neighborhood, Edwin mirrored the nod. He hadn’t necessarily felt uncomfortable, but his easiness could be attributed to his enjoyment of Trick’s company. From what he’d seen, Trick’s apartment itself wasn’t terrible—everything seemed to function properly, at least—and it was of a size to be cozy. However, for Trick to be in the surrounding areas at odd hours, as was so often the case given his demanding work schedule, was rather worrisome.
“Well, if it’s so worrisome, have you any plans to address it?” Frederick asked.
Not realizing he’d spoken out loud, Edwin shot a look at Frederick, who lifted his brows expectantly. “Plans?” Edwin repeated.
Frederick gathered the vegetables he’d chopped and added them to the pan. “You are a fairy godfather.”
“In training,” Edwin added automatically.
The eye roll Frederick gave him looked out of place on his typically serene countenance. “Nevertheless, you have a bevy of magical capabilities at your fingertips for a reason, you know.”
“I do….” Edwin nodded slowly, his mind already sifting through the possibilities, given what he knew of Trick and the impressions he’d already made upon Edwin.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go magic—but eat supper first. Fairy work is hard work.”
EDWIN WAS tending to the takeaway station at Elixir during his midweek shift when Trick burst into the shop. He radiated happiness, his grin wide and his face alight with joy. The expression was so at odds with Trick’s usual mask of indifference that Edwin could only stare at the way it transformed his face. Trick looked years younger, and Edwin could feel the happiness vibrating in his own bones when Trick stopped before him.
The past few days had been hectic, so he hadn’t seen Trick even in passing. He was glad to see him now.
“Edwin! Oh my God, you’ll never believe what happened.”
Edwin hid a small smile. With deliberate calmness, he poured milk into the appropriate silver container and screwed the lid back on. “Hello, Trick! What has happened? Do share whatever is so unbelievable.”
Trick’s lips twitched, and he looked amused. “I swear, the way you talk sometimes is just so….” His eyes went wide as he seemed to remember something. “But oh my God. You… you’ll never believe it.”
Chuckling, Edwin peeled a thick stack of napkins out of the package to begin refilling the dispenser. “I think we’ve already established whatever has happened is not to be believed.”
“Right, just. Just. Oh my God. I won, Edwin. I won!” Trick’s hands flailed around in a flurry of movement before he grabbed two handfuls of napkins to throw into the air. “I won!”
The falling napkins, which fluttered around them like confetti, did nothing to hide the ecstatic look on Trick’s face.
Edwin grinned. “What have you won?”
“There’s this—”
Trick’s response was cut short by the sound of a loud ahem.
Looking to the side, Edwin caught Janet’s glower and her pointed look at the array of tan-colored napkins that littered the floor and counter. “We generally like to fill the napkin dispensers, not make them explode.”
Edwin caught Trick’s eye and saw him wince. “Sorry, Janet,” Edwin said.
“It was my fault,” Trick said quickly. “I apologize—I got caught up in sharing some great news.”
Janet glanced at Trick, and her expression softened. She pursed her lips for a moment before giving a brief nod and turning back to Edwin. “Okay, just make sure it’s cleared away, okay?”
“Of course, Janet,” Edwin said pleasantly. As she turned away, he bent to gather the paper napkins that had fallen to the floor.
“Sorry about that,” Trick said, his voice a lot closer than Edwin had expected. Glancing up, Edwin saw Trick had knelt down to help collect the napkins. “I was just… oh my God, it’s surreal, Edwin.”
Trick straightened from his crouch and tossed the napkins into the wastebasket, and Edwin stood to do the same a moment later.
“I still await news of that which is outside belief, Trick.”
“Oh!” A flush of pink crossed Trick’s cheeks, but his smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew even wider. “I won. I won. There was a contest I entered to design a small residential building down near Battery Park. It’s small potatoes by New York standards, and I entered so long ago I barely remembered when they called, but it took first place. I fuckin’ won.”
“That’s wonderful, Trick! Congratulations!” Edwin circled his arms around Trick in a hearty hug. After a moment, Trick released a quick laugh and gripped him close, returning the embrace.
“Thanks,” Trick said as he pulled back, still grinning. “And even better—there’s a small cash prize, but the best part is that they’re going to actually use my design. My building is set to go under construction in the spring. I’ve submitted plans under Leif and Jasper’s names before, and I’ve contributed to Redden’s designs, but this is the first one that’s going to go up with my name on it. It’s… it’s a dream, I swear, and I haven’t woken up yet.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Edwin said, returning the grin. “This is only the beginning. I’m sure your talent will take you far.”
Trick rolled his eyes comically. “You can’t know that, but thanks. This day is already awesome, and it’s only—shit, it’s almost nine,” Trick said, after a quick glance at his phone, “and Redden wants his coffee on his desk by nine sharp.”
“I don’t want to keep you, then, but I would enjoy celebrating your accomplishment. Would you like to meet up again later?”
With a brief frown, Trick shook his head. “I have this awful project to work on that’ll go late, I’m sure. And it’ll probably keep me all week.”
“Then Saturday. Let’s celebrate Saturday.” Edwin looked at him, his smile expectant. Trick worked hard—he deserved to be commended when such work yielded positive results.
Trick quirked the corner of his lip. “Sure, why not? What’d you have in mind?”
“Everything. A surprise,” Edwin said, his mind racing as he considered the guidebook he’d picked up recently at The Strand. The bookstore had been incredible, filled with miles of shelves, and he’d found a wonderful resource for learning and enjoying more of this unique city.
Trick gave him a short laugh and shrugged. “Okay, everything sounds good right now. I’m still riding this high.”
They made plans to meet at Penn Station on Saturday morning. As Edwin watched Trick get in line at the counter, a rush of satisfaction flowed through him at the sight of Trick’s joy.
Edwin had magicked the situation, and he had done it well.
“WHEN YOU said it’d be a surprise, I didn’t expect this,” Trick said, lifting his hot dog smeared with mustard and relish.
“My source indicated these were famous,” Edwin said, eyeing his own food dubiously. They’d had hot dogs while walking around the city the other weekend, and those hadn’t been anything special. It seemed something of a small miracle would be needed to elevate them to the level of world famous. Rallying his spirits, Edwin looked at Trick and smiled. “I hope it turns out to be a pleasant surprise, at least.”
“Well, I used to love these, and you really can’t go wrong with a Nathan’s. I haven’t been here since I was a kid, so we’ll see if my palate has changed any.” Trick took a large bite, and Edwin watched, his brows lifted. “Mmmmm. Still great.”
Edwin grinned and bit into his hot dog. It was quite an unusual name for the food item, and he was slightly confused because, although he might have heard of them in Humanology, he’d never grasped why they were called such. They bore no resemblance to the canine animals that mortals kept as companions. But….
“Mmmmm.” They certainly tasted unique, and the bite of saltiness, combined with the toppings Trick had recommended, made for an enjoyable treat. Much more enjoyable than the hot dogs they’d found from a street vendor on the earlier occasion.
“Good, huh?” Trick was watching him with a smile on his face.
Edwin finished swallowing his bite and nodded. “Yes, I do favor your cuisine.”
Trick snorted a quick laugh and shook his head. “Cuisine might be a little generous, but I gotcha. You’d be amazed the kind of stuff they come up with in some of those fancy restaurants. I sometimes catch a glimpse of the menu when I make reservations for Redden, and I can’t pronounce half of it.”
“Well,” Edwin said, lifting his hot dog to his mouth again, “this suits me perfectly well.”
Trick watched him, the corner of his lip twitching, before turning back to his own food.
They finished their lunch quickly, and while Edwin wasn’t stuffed, he was satisfied enough and ready to explore this place more. He’d read much about Coney Island in his books, and while it was supposedly a popular tourist destination, it wasn’t very crowded on this mid-November day.
Edwin was tossing out his trash when the large round contraption that towered nearby caught his eye. He’d seen glimpses of it on their walk over, but he’d been distracted by the garish colors and unusual smells surrounding him. Now, though, it was so close and impossibly large.
“Wanna ride it?” Trick came up from behind him and nodded his chin toward the red wheel.
Edwin glanced at Trick, then back at the large red circle. “What is it?”
“A Ferris wheel.” Trick sent him a puzzled look. “I’m guessing they don’t have these in your area of Kansas?”
Edwin laughed nervously. “Oh, yes. Of course. They… they’re just not as large as this one. I’ve not seen one of this scale before.”
“Well, we can try it out if you’d like,” Trick said, his brows raised.
With a quick look at the Ferris wheel, Edwin shook his head. “Perhaps later? My book says there’s another attraction they’ve deemed a Must See. They even used capital letters.”
“Oh? And what does your trusty book say?” Trick’s lip quirked up at the corner.
“That there’s a Cyclone ride. It’s famous—even more famous than the hot dogs made by Nathan.”
“Ahhh,” Trick said. “Yeah, the Cyclone’s still around. I think they run it on the weekends at this time of year too.”
“Excellent! May we ride that?”
“Sure, whatever you want, Edwin,” Trick said easily.
Edwin bit his lip. “Oh, I didn’t mean to presume. I… this is supposed to be a celebratory day for you, so if you’d rather not, there’s no need….”
Trick rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go find the Cyclone,” Trick said, grabbing Edwin’s hand. “Trust me, if I didn’t want to do something, I wouldn’t stick around, and it’s nice having some friendly company for a change.”
Glancing over at Trick, Edwin smiled hesitantly and said, “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m positive, okay? Now we should find the ticket booth first.”
They moved down the walkway, passing the Ferris wheel, and the intermittent rumbling grew louder. The rumbling was accompanied by tinny screams that faded as quickly as they appeared. Edwin could see the latticed wood of a large structure until they stepped into a more open thoroughfare and….
The wooden monstrosity rose up into the sky, rattling ominously when an illogically small series of carts full of screaming passengers flew by. It was tall and loud, and he’d never seen anything like it before. He knew, academically, that such rides were popular forms of entertainment among the mortals, but knowing and seeing were two entirely different things. The reality of these attractions was rather astounding.
“Oh my Fairy.”
Edwin stretched his arm out, and he stumbled a little when Trick continued walking forward with Edwin’s hand still held in his own. Trick stopped right away and glanced back to where Edwin had halted in his tracks to stare at the behemoth.
“You okay?”
“It’s just—it’s quite large.”
“It’s a roller coaster, Edwin. Let me guess… you don’t really have ones of this size where you’re from?” When Edwin shook his head, Trick’s expression softened. “You know, we don’t have to ride it if you don’t want to. Now you’ve seen it, at least.”
Edwin considered that for a moment. No, he wanted to try out the Cyclone. The book had indicated it was world famous, and the feeling of exhilaration at the peak of the tracks was second to none. He was curious, and with Trick by his side, surely the experience would be memorable.
Moments later, when he was seated beside Trick in a small cart with a padded metal bar across his lap, Edwin was reminded that simply because something was memorable did not necessarily mean it was a good idea. Edwin tightened his grip on the padding and tugged it a little closer, ensuring it was secure. The chug-chug their small carts made as they continued the slow ascent to the top battled with the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears. Edwin stared, wide-eyed, catching sight of the teenaged couple in front of them and, beyond them, the billowing flag at the peak that grew larger and larger as they neared it.
A warm hand covered his clenched one, and Edwin looked over to see Trick watching him, his brow furrowed. Edwin couldn’t guess at what Trick saw, but he was grateful when Trick shifted as close as he could and lifted his arm around Edwin’s shoulders. As the first cart passed underneath the flag, Trick squeezed Edwin’s shoulders and held him securely against his own firm body.
“I got you.”
They crested the peak, and the ensuing drop was like nothing Edwin had ever imagined. It was terrifying exhilaration. His stomach felt like it was floating inside of him, and he added his voice to the shouts and screams. Pressed close to Trick, Edwin could feel and hear Trick’s excited laughter.
The ride swooped into twists and turns, never letting up in speed and eliciting that intense combination of fear and thrill within him. Even through the overload of stimulation, Edwin was well aware of Trick’s arm around him, which helped him feel inexplicably safer.
They were pulling into the disembarking station when Trick ran a soothing hand across Edwin’s nape. “You okay?”
Edwin swallowed hard and broke out of his stupor. He wasn’t sure how he felt about roller coasters, but it had… it had definitely been a unique experience. “I… I think I can walk, still.”
The metal bar popped back up to release them out of the seats, and Trick let out a throaty chuckle. “I’m proud of you,” he said before stepping out. He offered Edwin his hand, which Edwin gladly took as he climbed out of the low seat.
“I’m glad to have experienced it.” Edwin remembered Trick’s kindness and squeezed his hand. “And I’m glad it was with you.”
Trick flashed him a brief smile before tilting his head toward the exit. “C’mon, I think we deserve some snacks after that adventure.”
“Of course! I would enjoy that,” Edwin said, perking up at the thought of more food to try.
They headed back in the direction of the Ferris wheel, and at the next intersection, Trick caught sight of a small car. There was popcorn behind a glass encasement and, hanging from the top bars, plastic bags of something labeled “Cotton Candy.”
“Oh, we should get one of these,” Trick said, gesturing toward one of the pink-filled bags. “Considering how big of a hit the doughnuts were, I think you’re gonna love it.”
“That sounds most promising, but… what is it?”
“It’s cotton candy,” Trick said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “It’s fluffy, sweet, cavity-inducing goodness.”
The gray-haired man behind the counter handed Trick one of the bags in exchange for a few dollars. “Or,” the vendor said with a grin, “where I come from, we call it fairy floss.”
Edwin’s eyes went wide, and he looked at the pink confection, inexplicably enchanted by the idea of mortals finding ways to incorporate the magical in their everyday lives. Even more curious about this foodstuff, he tugged open the bag and pulled some of the fairy floss off the large pink ball. The fibrous tendrils clung together as he pulled the bite free, and he popped it into his mouth.
A surprised little noise escaped his throat, and he moved his tongue around the sugary fluff as it dissolved in his mouth. It was simply delightful.
“What d’you think?” Trick asked, an amused look on his face.
“This fairy likes his fairy floss!”
When Edwin realized what he’d said, his eyes went wide with dismay. Oh my Fairy, what had he done? He hadn’t meant to say that.
“I mean—I just really—”
“Oh, that’s quite all right,” the old man said, nodding. “We get all sorts of types here, and you boys don’t have to hide who you are on my account. In fact,” he said, standing a little straighter and smiling, “I’ll have you know I officiated my nephew’s wedding to his husband.”
Edwin’s gaze shot to Trick, and he was surprised to see an inscrutable look there. Edwin’s mouth opened and closed as he stuttered through a few more stumbled explanations.
“You—I—”
“Thanks,” Trick said to the old man over Edwin’s stuttering. “We appreciate that.”
The old man grinned and nodded. “Have a nice time.”
Trick took Edwin’s hand and tugged him along, leaving Edwin to wonder what he had just missed. He wanted to eat more of the fairy floss, but he also wanted to know what had happened.
“What… what was that man talking about?”
Trick grinned as he reached into the bag for a pinch of fairy floss. “He thinks we’re an item. Like, together. As in, boyfriends.” Trick put the fairy floss into his mouth and glanced at Edwin. “You know, when you called yourself a fairy? He thought that meant you’re…. Wait, why did you call yourself a fairy?”
Edwin’s eyes went wide, and his heart began to race to rival the thumping from his Cyclone experience. “I just—um—I—”
Trick sent him a puzzled look before shaking his head briefly. “You know, never mind. I…. You do say some weird stuff sometimes, though,” he said, almost to himself. Trick gave a half shrug and turned to Edwin with raised brows. “So… hey, do you want to try out the Ferris wheel now?”
With a sigh of relief at not having to explain something he would find distinctly difficult—if not impossible—to explain, Edwin smiled at the suggestion. “As long as I can still walk afterward,” Edwin said ruefully.
Trick laughed and tossed an arm over Edwin’s shoulder. “This one’s an easy one, I promise,” he said, guiding Edwin toward the large red wheel.
And it was easy, Edwin was pleased to discover. As was the rest of their day at Coney Island. He might have intercepted a few curious glances from Trick, but given the way Trick had let the Fairy-Situation-Capital-F-and-S go, Edwin was more than happy to overlook those glances in favor of enjoying Trick’s company.