The Magic Touch Read Online Free PDF Page A

“The system’s worked just fine for hundreds of years. Why change things now?”
    Froister banged his hand down on the glass-topped table. “That one boy brought up the same point that’s always troubled me: security. I don’t like my fate being so casually affected by others. I’m tired of having to safeguard my lamp day in and day out. I want to be free of the lamp, or any object, free to use our vast magical power for ourselves. To do that, we need power from another source, and we’re moving in on it.”
    “How soon?” Timbulo asked.
    “Soon enough,” Froister said. “You and I just have to be patient, but vigilant. We have to control our new recruits, and be ready to move as soon as I give the word.”
    “That was a smooth move of yours,” Bannion said, “proposing an official merger with the upper-ups from both sides. It almost sounded legitimate.”
    “Well,” Froister said, showing his teeth. “I want access one way or the other. If fair means don’t work, we’ll be ready with foul.”
    “I’m betting on foul,” said Timbulo. He looked up. “Did you hear something?” The beam of the flashlight appeared near the open door to the warehouse.
    “He’s coming back,” Froister said hastily. “Meeting adjourned.” The seven men vanished in their disparate puffs of smoke.
    The night watchman hurried into the showroom, and looked around at the twinkling crystal and gold fixtures hanging or standing everywhere. He couldn’t see a single living being.
    He pulled the shortwave radio out of the loop on his hip, flicked it on, and spoke into it.
    “Yeah, Charlie, it’s Dave over at Enlightenment. I heard those voices again, men’s voices. No, nothing’s gone. No signs of a break-in. All the doors were locked. There’s nobody here at all.… I know, I know.… I swear the place must be haunted. I’m quitting this danged job.”

Chapter 3
    “I mean, we’re not really fairy godmothers ,”Ray said as he loped along beside Rose. They were walking down the busy street, and Rose seemed to be looking for something. “You know, not with magic or anything.”
    “What?” Rose asked, stopping short on a corner in the beam of a streetlamp. He all but ran up her heels, and cursed under his breath. She looked distracted, her gaze flicking over the buildings and bushes and lampposts, but not really seeming to see any of them.
    Ray raised his voice over the sound of the traffic. “I mean, this is a benevolent organization or something, what you said. We raise money for needy kids, right?”
    “No, we don’t,” Rose said, as if hearing him for the first time. She turned to meet his gaze, and the sharp, dark eyes looked straight into his. “Remember Cinderella? Remember her fairy godmother, the one who gave her clothes and transportation for the big night of her life? We get a child whatever he or she needs. By magic.”
    “But Cinderella was a kid’s story,” Ray protested.
    “Not at all! Her fairy godmother was one of us, a member of Hochunit 23, in Bavaria, as a matter of fact. It’s still in operation. A lot of the local federations have disbanded for lack of membership, but in many places we’re still going strong. Like here.”
    “We buy clothes for kids?” Ray asked, struggling to hold on to the part of her discourse that he thought he could understand. “Where do we get the money?”
    “We help children more directly than that. Money doesn’t solve every problem, Raymond, not the really important ones. The most important things in life can’t be bought with money. You ought to know that by now.”
    Raymond thought about the car he’d been wanting ever since he got his first bike. That was mondo importante ,but Rose’s words brought back other memories, like his father’s face beaming when Ray brought home a high school report card of straight A ’s. Never happened again, which made the memory all that more precious. He couldn’t buy that moment back for a million dollars, and