sleeves rolled up, necktie on. I giggled behind my hand as I watched him from behind a plant with huge spiky leaves. Concerned politician uniform: go!
“You are free right now,” Graham said. “Yes, I know you’re worried about the covenants, but…you told me magic was about will, correct?” He gestured to a budgie.
“That’s right,” she said. “But I don’t think I’d have the will to defy a covenant. It would never end well for us. And most familiars are happy.”
“Yes,” Graham said. “That’s a good point. When a group in power oppresses another group, they have tactics they employ to maintain that power. Your main tools for resisting would be along the lines of strikes, but considering the private nature of your relationship with a wizard, that is a dangerous option. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. So in this case, what I recommend is to speak out and try to build sympathy for your movement. It doesn’t seem like most wizards are aware that systemic abuse is a problem in the wizarding community. I know it can be really difficult to talk about, but sharing personal stories is a great way to engage the community.”
“I’ve never met a demon who talked like you,” said a skeptical-looking armadillo. And no, I was not aware until this moment that an armadillo could look skeptical.
“Hm.” Graham shrugged. “I guess demons don’t do community organizing. Well, this is a handout…I think I have enough…that one is more of a general tip sheet for how to talk to people about issues you care about. I’m going to do a little more research—”
“So you want us to…tell other wizards and familiars about…our lives?” The budgie was getting puffy and hunkering down like the idea terrified her. “I don’t even know if a happy familiar would believe me.”
Graham whipped a pencil out from behind his ear. “I worked on a bipartisan bill about sex trafficking with a charity…you know what, you don’t know what I’m talking about and you don’t need to either. But I definitely hear you, the victim should not be expected to have to relive the abuse. It’s kind of new territory for me so just, bear with me here. We’ll meet again tomorrow.”
He stood up and immediately saw me standing behind the bush, and then let out a groan. “Were you spying on me?”
“I was just watching you do your thing. Are you embarrassed now? You’re awesome! Are you building a political movement with familiars?”
“I’m probably being very naive and bringing paperwork to a wand fight,” Graham said. “It sounds to me like the magical world still solves a lot with violence.”
“Um…well, when you put it that way…yes. We are barbarians. I trust you’ve read fantasy novels.”
“I am a very low-key Star Wars fan, if you remember,” he said. “So I get it. The beginning half of the movie has all the talk but in the end you fight with a lightsaber. I mean, sure, instead of getting the Supreme Court involved in the 2000 election we could have just handed Al Gore and George W. Bush lightsabers and at least it would make for better television.”
I looked at him a little blankly and for some annoying reason my complete cluelessness about human politics seemed to give him confidence.
“I’m too young to remember the year 2000 anyway,” I grumbled.
He grinned and put an arm around my waist. “All right, my little barbarian witch. You’ll have to keep teaching me about this new world. But what I am used to doing is listening to problems and solving them. Well, trying. It’s often difficult and incredibly complicated. You fix one thing and it causes another problem. But I’d feel like a jerk if I didn’t at least try. And no one has ever even listened to these familiars before.”
“I really had no idea they were hurting,” I said.
“Exactly. I need to find a way to make their stories heard, to start.”
“But before that, Graham, we have to break those covenants. That’s a magical tie between wizard and familiar and it binds them together.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what,” I said.
“Well, that’s some horse ass.”
“Another great line from your speeches?”
“I am a demon now. Maybe I should talk like one…”
We heard a gate creak open and slow but confident footsteps at the side of the garden, by the citrus grove, and we both peered around the trees to see Isaac fussing around the garden.
“This isn’t good,” he said without preamble, turning on us accusingly. “These