A Tale of Highly Unusual Magic by Lisa Papademetriou Read Free Book Online Page B

walls. The dining table gleamed with old wood and a silver candelabra. Silver sprigs of flowers snaked up and down the faded wallpaper, and the late-afternoon light cast everything in shadow and shades of gold.
    Two plates of sausage and sauerkraut were on the table, along with a small salad at each setting. Kai looked at the sauerkraut suspiciously. She did not like sauerkraut.
    â€œOld family recipe,” Lavinia said, reading her expression. “You’ll like it.”
    â€œYou promise?” Kai asked doubtfully, but she liked the old lady, so she tried a bite. She paused a moment, chewing.
    â€œSee?”
    â€œThat’s really good.”
    â€œDon’t I know it. Eat some with a bite of that sausage there.”
    Kai obeyed, and was rewarded with a burst of savory, sour, sweet deliciousness that crunched and melted across her tongue.
    â€œYour mother called,” Lavinia said as Kai took another bite. “She sends her love and says she hopes you’ve practiced the violin.”
    Kai chewed thoroughly, then swallowed. “Thanks.” Kai thought about her violin, closed in its case, shut in the dark closet. Lavinia didn’t ask any more questions, didn’t actually ask if she had practiced. And so Kai didn’t actually lie.
    â€œHow was the Walgreens?” Lavinia asked.
    Kai told her great-aunt about Doodle, and Pettyfer, and the moth.
    â€œOh, she’s a hoot, that Doodle Martell!” Lavinia crowed. “Her father’s a hoot, too. Poor man.”
    â€œWhy poor man?”
    Lavina looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “He’s got a thankless job, I tell you. Working in that casket factory.”
    â€œThe Pettyfer factory?” Interesting. Doodle hadn’t mentioned that her father worked there.
    Lavinia scowled. “That’s what folks call it, but the rightful name is American Casket.”
    â€œWould it be all right if I go look for this Celestial Moth thing?” Kai asked.
    â€œWhy not?” Lavinia asked.
    â€œWell, it’s after—dinner.” Kai stopped herself from saying “after dark ,” though she cast a glance toward the window behind Lavinia, where long shadows stretched across the garden.
    â€œThe moth ain’t going to come out during the daytime, is it?” Lavinia asked. “My old uncle used to talk about those moths. Said they liked the Lightning Tree.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œAn old sycamore what got blasted by lightning about a hundred fifty years ago. Seared off a major branch, so that it grew all lopsided for years and years. It’s still there, I think.”
    â€œWhere is it?” Kai couldn’t wait to hand over this idea to Doodle.
    â€œNext to the casket factory,” Lavinia said, just before shoving a huge bite of salad into her mouth. A little piece of green spinach poked out of the corner of her mouth, which made her look like a happy lizard munching a leaf.
    Next to the casket factory? Kai’s old habit of worrying about what her mother would think kicked in. Kai had never been allowed outside after dark by herself, and her mother would go ballistic if she knew that she was planning to creep around a dark coffin factory. . . . She felt that fizzy, pent-up, almost-bursting feeling she’d had earlier, when Lavinia had said she could walk to the Walgreens.
    Lavinia looked over her shoulder, out the window. “Clear skies,” she said. “Sometimes, with heat like this, we get a storm. But you should have a good view of the stars tonight.”
    The stars. You never could see them very well inBaltimore, and Kai was seized with the urge to go outside right then. After all, her mother would never have to know. It would be like the violin practice—she just wouldn’t mention it. And so what if the factory made caskets? They were just boxes. It was just a factory. It’s not like it would be scary. Swallowing her fear along with