Zee? Are you all right?” The whole car rose about ten inches off the jacks, knocking them over on their sides, and shook like an epileptic. A wave of magic rose from the Buick, and I backed away, one hand locked in Gabriel’s shirt so he came with me as the car returned all the way to the ground with a bang of tires on pavement and the squeak of protesting shocks. “I feel better now,” said Zee in a very nasty tone. “I would be even happier if I could hang the last mechanic who worked on it.

-Patricia Briggs

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