The Oak Knowers
by Wesley Jenkins
When the moon sits high, and our parents have passed out for sure, we gather in the grove to do our business.
We never call it magic. Magic is something magicians do, pulling rabbits out of hats. I guess witches turn princes into toads and sorcerers cruise from kingdom to kingdom, toppling regimes and screwing everything in sight, but we have never been so outrageous. For one thing, we believe in rules.