Magic Steals Read Online Free Page A

think about it. I just wanted to enjoy the magic while it lasted.
    â€œDali!”
    I realized we were heading straight for a pothole, swerved, and hit the bulging asphalt, where a tree root had burrowed under the pavement. Pooki went airborne. My stomach tried to fall out of me. The Plymouth landed on the asphalt.
    â€œWhee!” I grinned at Jim.
    He put his hand over his face.
    â€œIt’s not that bad!”
    â€œDali, are you ashamed of introducing me to your mother?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œIs it because we are planning on having sex before the wedding?”
    â€œNo. My mother is from Indonesia, but she’s been in the United States for a long time.” Not to mention that she would be so overjoyed that I was having sex in the first place, she would probably call all of our relatives and tell them about it. They’d throw a party to celebrate.
    â€œThen why do I have to hide?”
    Think of something quick . . . “You know, this introducing thing goes both ways. You haven’t introduced me to your family either.”
    He nodded. “Okay. We’re having a barbeque this Sunday. You’re welcome to come.”
    I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. A barbeque with Jim’s family? With his mother, his sisters, and his cousins . . . Oh no.
    Jim reached over, put his fingers under my chin, and pushed my jaw up to close my mouth. “The way you’re driving, you’ll bite your tongue off.”
    I was smart. With all of that brain power I had to manage some sort of smart way to escape. “I can’t just show up unannounced.”
    â€œI already told them that I would ask you, so they know you might be coming.”
    â€œOh so you just assumed I would show up?”
    â€œNo, but I thought there might be a possibility that you wouldn’t turn me down.”
    He just refused to be ruffled and he was so logical about it. It was hard to argue with logic.
    I made another turn. We’d swung into an older neighborhood. Magic destroyed tall buildings, breaking them down into dust, but it also fed tree growth. The people-friendly trees, red maples, yellow poplars, red and white oaks, which usually grew in carefully managed spaces to shade the front lawns, had shot upward, spreading their thick limbs over the road and their massive roots under it, bulging the asphalt in waves. The street looked like a beach with the tide coming in.
    â€œDali, I need to know if we’re on for this barbeque.”
    â€œDriving on this road is just awful. They should do something about this.”
    â€œDali,” Jim growled.
    â€œYes, I will come to the barbeque, fine!”
    He shook his head.
    â€œThank you for inviting me,” I said.
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    I pulled up before a small yellow house and turned off the engine. “This is it.”
    The house sat in front of us, a typical one-story ranch-style home, its walls bright with cheerful chicken yellow paint. A neat front yard, recently mowed, stretched to the front door, shadowed by an old redbud tree. A dozen bird feeders and wind chimes, some plain, some with shiny colored-glass ornaments, hung from tree branches. It looked so neat and bright, just the way you would imagine a grandmother’s house should be.
    I really hoped nothing bad had happened to Eyang Ida.
    â€œRoll down your window,” I asked.
    He did. The air drifted in, baked in the relentless heat of Atlanta’s summer. I closed my eyes and concentrated. In my mind, the cheery front wall of the house fell forward. Inside foul magic waited, rotten and terrible. It dripped from the furniture, slid down the walls in thick, dark drops, and coated floorboards with its slime. Every house has a heart, the echoes of its owner’s presence, and simple magic that turns a building into a home. The heart of this house was rotten to the core. Something had fed upon it and now it was dying.
    Fear raised the tiny