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of magic that our friends use are currently legal, but we’re also not hanging around the sort of doom and gloom, ‘good old days’ guys who are just waiting for an excuse to shoot a spell.” The offense on her face was visible, but my mind was already drifting away from her.

We needed to go somewhere, somewhere that wasn’t open to humans. A little closer to the underside of Magictown.

There were two parts to The Stakes, much like any other city district. There was the cleaned up, presentable part with modest people just trying to make a living, lots of families and the elderly who had sought out the company of their own kind. The Stakes was, in that regard, a clean place and kind place. You could make friends on the streets in an instant, and everyone always wanted to help each other. Whether it be carrying groceries or spotting the change for someone else.

But there was another part. A part that blossomed in dark corners, that sported neon signs leading to nowhere; a part where cops walked up to vanishing doors and young men cornered each other in restaurants. A place where back-alley dealings were part of everyday life and spells that only lasted for only a few minutes sans water were a tangible scam: the part where humans didn’t go, the part where humans couldn’t wander.

When good, innocent people needed information, they took a walk on the light side. They asked questions of grandmothers in velvet robes, and they exchanged cups of sugar and pleasantries for local gossip. When others were looking for information, well; I shouldn’t know, but I did.

I’d been there far too recently, I’d spoken to people far too much. Back when I was young and stupid, back when I couldn’t think of any place outside of Magictown. They wouldn’t let Leo in, of course they wouldn’t. Humans were, on the other side of our neighborhood, just as bad as witches. And yet, with only one glimpse I knew that he would be stupid enough to come with, that he’d try his luck over and over again if that meant a fair chance of progression.

I had run out of options; there was no saying that you’re trying to do what’s best for someone when that person lingered on the line between life and death. “The Green Man,” I concluded through tightened lips. “If we’re going to go anywhere, I mean that’s--”

Yvie gaped, her mouth staying open as she gasped, “Lyra.”

“The Green Man, then,” Leo said with a tone of finality, evidently glad to have caught some sort of lead. He didn’t notice the way that Yvie’s mouth fell, lips pressing tightly together as she stared across the room at me.

6

The Green Man

Tall, thick walls of Ivy stood in front of me, climbing across brick and stretching to the sky. They weren’t out of place, at least not completely. The dense overgrowth of Magictown’s under-maintained park sat behind me, a much begged for addition to this portion of town some hundred-odd years ago. Of course, there was supposed to be more than one park; these neighborhoods made up more than a third of the city. But all those promises vanished, taken away from disappointed children when generation after generation of the same family was elected to office. Our current mayor, Pat Lobdel, hated witches just as much as her father before her, while having only half the reasons to do so. All that remained of those dreams was Adams’s park, where the grass was the only trimmed thing. There wasn’t so much as a swing set or slide, because the city knew that smart people didn’t take their children to Adams Park.

Of course, one could argue, look at what we did with the park they gave us. But if you were to bring up such an argument, then I would love to remind you; working-class people are too busy sweating their lives away to actively engage in treachery. No, it was the rich, always the rich, who sat behind the green curtains right under our noses. They’re what made Adams the gateway to the underbelly.

My hand tightened around the hand of the man beside me, pulling him out of his stupor. Just minutes prior, he’d managed to regard the wall with a passing interest, nothing more. But when I stopped, so did he. A questioning look soon grew into a look of awe. It was only my hand that prevented him from stepping forward, his fingers reaching longingly towards the foliage. He was quick to pick things up, he knew that something laid behind there. A part of me wanted to tell him exactly what right away, another part of me knew that just telling him wouldn’t be enough; no, let him see, maybe if he started to get an idea of what magic was really like, he’d go home and face reality. The chance of a cure laying behind that wall was slim to none, but when you don’t know better, then slim must sound pretty good.

“Wizards don’t marvel,” I said underneath my breath, flexing my hand around his once more to keep him from wandering, “and since you’ve refused to stay home, you have to at least attempt to look like a wizard. I can’t guarantee that nothing will happen to you if you don’t.”

“Right,” he replied with pinkened cheeks, his hand slipping out of mine. “A wizard, I am a wizard. Things like this are normal to me, all of this is normal to me.”

“Try to sound a bit more like you’ve seen magic before in your life.”

“I’ve seen magic every day of my life,” Leo said unconvincingly. “And in no way have I walked past this very building, in this very park, multiple times over two years without a second thought. Nor have I walked by other shops and buildings with the same walls of ivy, completely unsuspecting of what may lay beneath.” He shook his head, hand reaching for

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