Chase Tinker & The House of Magic by Malia Ann Haberman Read Free Book Online Page B

pushed away
from the table.
    Janie pushed back her chair too. "Okay, if
you're done, let's go find your socks. You coming, Andy?"
    "You bet!" he answered, jumping to his
feet.
    Chase and Andy grabbed their plates. Their
mother's voice saying "clean up after yourselves" was still ringing
in their ears.
    "You guys don't have to do that," said Janie.
" Kitchen Sink. " She flicked her hand and the plates
vanished. Looking at the boys' gaping faces, she understood what
was going on. "You didn't tell them, did you, Grandfather?" she
scolded, her fists on her hips.
    He shook his head. "Not yet. Why don't you
bring them to the study after you've found Chase's purloined
belongings, Janie. I have a few things you need to hear also."
    "Okay, Grandfather." She beckoned to the boys
to follow. "Let's go, guys."
    This trip through the house was as cool as
the first had been. Janie led them down a long, dark hallway where
their bodies gleamed like neon lights and changed to whatever color
they wanted, through two hidden doorways, and up a winding,
S-shaped staircase that kept changing directions as if it were a
slithering snake.
    "How long have you been living here?" asked
Chase, goggling at three potted-plants singing an off-key Elvis
Presley song. He was impressed by how easily she found her way
through the gigantic house.
    "About five months," she said. "Grandfather
brought me here when my mom went to look for your dad."
    "Grandfather told us about your mom," said
Andy. He edged past the odd shrubbery. "Uh—why are the plants
singing?"
    "Oh, don't mind them," said Janie, airily
waving her hand at the plants. "They roam around the house
serenading everyone. I kind of like it."
    Wanting to hear more about his dad, and not
singing plants, Chase asked eagerly, "Have you heard anything from
your mom?"
    "Nope, not a word." She pulled a purple cell
phone from her pocket. "She called me a bunch of times when she
first left." Janie sighed. "But I haven't heard anything from her
in weeks. Whenever I call her, she never answers. I hope she's
okay. And your dad too, of course," she added, slipping the phone
back into her pocket. "Grandfather doesn't want me to worry, but I
do. And I can tell he's worried too."
    "Do you think he'll go look for them
himself?" Chase asked.
    She shrugged. "I dunno. He hasn't said
anything, but he might have to if they don't come back soon.
Wouldn't you think?"
    "I suppose." Staring at the floor, he thought
of something else he wanted to ask. "So are Mrs. Periwinkle and
Persephone magical too?"
    Janie shook her head. "No. Mrs. Periwinkle
came to work here years ago when Persephone was a baby. They know
about our magic, though."
    "I guess they'd have to," said Chase, "living
in this house and all."
    Several more hallways later, they came to a
bedroom with a huge four-poster bed. Like the formal living room,
it had a stone fireplace taking up one whole wall. Unlike the other
one, with its roaring fire, this one had dozens of baseball-size
balls of flames bouncing behind the fire-screen.
    "This is Maxwell's room. At least he likes to
think so," said Janie as she crossed the room with the boys
trailing close. "He hides things under the bed."
    Getting down on their hands and knees, the
kids peered into the darkness. Janie muttered something under her
breath and snapped her fingers. A flashing-orange fireball popped
into the palm of her hand.
    Chase and Andy jerked back. "Whoa!" said
Chase as he eyeballed the strange ball of fire. "Where the heck did
that come from?"
    "It's the power of the room," said Janie.
    "Power of the room?"
    "Don't worry, Grandfather will explain things
to you," she said. "But in this room, you snap your fingers, say
' fireball ' and it pops right into your hand. Try it."
    Chase did as she suggested. POP! "Nice," he
said, smiling at the blazing ball. "Go ahead, Andy. You really
gotta try this."
    "I don't know," said Andy, shaking his head.
"Mom always says we're not supposed to play with fire."
    "But