Eye of the Wizard: A Fantasy Adventure Read Online Free PDF

Jamie saw only a lizard on the wall and a sparrow on a rafter.
    Breathing out in relief, Jamie filled a bath with water, then peeled off her bloody, stinky clothes. When she was naked, she grunted in disgust; the moldmen's slime had seeped right through her clothes, staining her skin. God, I smell like Scruff's butt.
    She entered the bath, grabbed a brush and soap, and scrubbed her skin red. What were those moldmen doing here? she wondered, washing her hair so hard, her scalp hurt. Had a warlock summoned them? Could it be... him ... the warlock who had murdered Father? Jamie shuddered. Suddenly she missed her parents so badly, she ached.
    She was just leaving the bath when the door creaked open.
    Jamie spun to face the doorway, her arms moving to cover her nakedness.
    Lord Bramblebridge stood there with twenty squires. "Remember, lads," the old bulldog was bellowing, "Bishop Barleyworth is visiting tonight, and I want you spic and span, so grab brushes and...."
    When Bramblebridge saw Jamie, his voice died and his mustache drooped.
    Everyone stared at her.
    Jamie gaped back, feeling the blood rising to her face. Her hands hid her nakedness, but could not hide the truth.
    Her secret was out.
    "You...," Bramblebridge began, blinked, and swallowed. "You're a girl!"
    Jamie sighed. Damn it.
    * * * * *
    Scruff and Jamie stood in Bramblebridge's chamber, staring at their feet. The stocky lord was shouting so loudly, his cheeks turned bright red, and sweat steamed on his bald head. Smoke looked ready to fly from his ears, and his mustache fluttered as he shouted. Scruff would have preferred to face Lucifer himself; nothing could be more terrifying than a bellowing Bramblebridge.
    "And you!" Bramblebridge said, pointing a trembling finger at Scruff. "You knew all along, didn't you? You knew she's a girl."
    Scruff stared at his boots as if they could save him. "Well, yes, but—"
    "Don't talk back, boy!"
    "But you asked me a—"
    "Will you shut it?!" Bramblebridge pounded his table, raising chips of wood. He turned to face Jamie, shaking with rage. She stood before him, eyes lowered, hands clutched behind her back.
    "You, girl," Bramblebridge said, voice dripping disgust. "You have profaned an ancient, holy tradition. You have insulted everything Fort Rosethorn stands for. You are kicked out! And YOU, oaf!" He turned to Scruff. "You failed your sword class for three years in a row. My five-year-old granddaughter would beat you at a sword fight. Scruff, you're out too! I want both of you out of Burrfield by nightfall."
    Scruff and Jamie stared at each other, gaping. Bramblebridge wasn't just kicking them out of Fort Rosethorn; he was banishing them from the entire town.
    "B-but...," Scruff began, then let his voice die. There was not much he could do, he realized, daring not speak more for fear he'd sob. Horror sunk to the bottom of his belly as if he'd swallowed a brick. He looked at Jamie. Her face was pale, her bottom lip trembled, and she blinked as if fighting back tears.
    We've failed our parents, Scruff thought, trembling. We broke our promises.
    "My lord, please," Jamie said, looking pleadingly at Bramblebridge, tears spiking her eyelashes. "If you just give us a chance, we'll—"
    Bramblebridge slammed his fists down again, breaking his table in two, scattering splinters. That seemed to only further enrage the burly lord. This time, Scruff could swear he did see smoke leaving the man's ears.
    "Look what you did!" Bramblebridge shouted, gesturing at the broken table. His face was redder than the devil's. "I want you out of this town, the two of you. If I see either one of you in Burrfield again, I'll make sure you hang. Now out !"
    Scruff and Jamie fled the room, too shocked to speak.

Chapter Three
    Of Demons and Teddy Bears

    The demon Issa, chief torturer of Hell, cracked her flaming whip.
    "Time for pain," she hissed, smoke rising from her nostrils.
    She stood in a towering cavern, feet upon a boulder that rose from bubbling