The magician wore suspenders and a checkered vest, and he was currently wrist-deep in some guy’s fedora, pretending to fish around inside. With an exaggerated flourish, he yanked out a playing card and held it aloft like he’d just drawn the damn sword from the stone.
“Ooh, a show!” Zephyr chirped, pulling free of me to inch closer to the performance in progress.
The magician returned the card to his deck, then held it aloft. “Ladies and gents! My next trick requires a volunteer. Preferably someone with excellent taste and dazzling style…” He scanned the gathering, then locked onto Zephyr. “What about you, gorgeous? Don’t be shy.”
Zephyr gave me a quick, excited look. “Can I?”
“Do you need permission?” I asked dryly, but I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my mouth.
He bounded forward and assumed his position at the magician’s side, attentive and eager. Somehow, he’d managed to find a spotlight out here in the open, and he basked in the glow of delight while the magician handed him a fan of cards.
“Pick one, but don’t show it to me. You can show your tall, brooding boyfriend over there if you want.” He nodded in my direction.
Zephyr laughed, a little flustered, then drew a card. “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
The magician threw a wink my way. “Maybe not yet.”
The trick was simple, textbook misdirection and muscle memory, but Zephyr was spellbound. He gasped when the card vanished from his hand, yelped when it reappeared tucked behind his elbow, and applauded when the magician followed it up by pulling a quarter from behind his ear.
“You’ve got good energy,” the magician said, pattingZephyr’s shoulder. “People like you make the magic work better.”
Zephyr beamed at the praise. It made me think of how he shrank from Maslow’s cutting words, his inner light dimming with every slur and scornful glance. Why have such a vibrant thing only to snuff it out? Why diminish what could be so spectacular?
Hadn’t Colette accused me of the same?
Keeping my relationship with Zephyr small so I could feel large?
The magician took a theatrical bow, and the crowd clapped. While Zephyr stood aside, examining the quarter as though it had secrets to reveal, I stepped in and slipped a twenty into the magician’s palm. The performer’s eyes flicked to mine, surprised, then grateful.
“Much obliged, my good man,” he said, then jerked his chin toward Zephyr. “And hey, take care of that one. They’re a rare kind.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m starting to notice.”
Zephyr rejoined me, sparkling with delight. “Did you see that? He wassogood. I think he actually made that card disappear.”
“Mm,” I hummed. “Or you were too busy swooning to notice when he palmed it.”
He gave me a look—half exasperated, half amused. “You’re no fun.”
“Never claimed I was,”I said.“Still respect the hustle, though.”
We started walking again. Zephyr’s hand brushed mine twice before I caught it to hold. Pain stabbed through my finger, stemming from the old bite wound, and I glanced down to check it. It appeared the same, with only faint scarsas evidence of the event that was almost comical in hindsight.
“What was Mazzy talking about?” Zephyr asked as we moved, crunching on the remnants of his lollipop. “What he wants from you? Fairmont?”
I rocked my head back in a nod. “Fairmont Street. Property. It’s not here, but close, though. Adjacent. Unclaimed.”
“Who would claim it?”
“Your boss, apparently.”
Zephyr frowned. “Why?”
I turned to lead him through a narrow gap in foot traffic while talking over my shoulder. “Because he’s a greedy motherfucker with no good sense.”
When I pulled him alongside me again, consternation furrowed his brow. Maslow’s greed and objective stupidity were hardly news, but given how new Zephyr was to the world, there must have been a million things he didn’t know. He’d been stored in a glorified bell jar for months, rendered powerless and ignorant. It was not a condition I intended to let stand.
Slowing to a stop, I maneuvered us out of the walking path so we could see all the way up and down the boulevard.
