The Bag of Bones Read Online Free PDF

glow, and Buckleup’s mean little eyes blinked. “By my grandmother’s bunions,” he muttered to himself, and took a quick step backward. “I’ve not seen the likes of that since Deep Magic was banned — but Deep Magic is what that is, sure as hens are chickens.”
    Far up above, at the top of the tree, Loobly’s eyes filled with tears. “Poorly doggies,” she whispered. “Bad badness . . . no hurt doggies. Please be good to doggies.”
    Down on the ground, Truda had no intention whatsoever of being good to anyone, human or animal. Her brain was working overtime. She had recognized a possible ally in Buckleup Brandersby — cruelty and unpleasantness hung about him like a murky fog — but could he be bent to her will? She sidled nearer and inspected Snarler and his companions as they rolled on their backs, whimpering pathetically. There was nothing she could do to make their paws more comfortable — Truda’s repertory of spells had never included any kind of remedy or antidote — but it might be to her advantage if she put them out of their misery by turning them into toads.
    “Or vipers,” she said, thinking aloud.
    Buckleup gave her a considering look. At first he had taken her for one of the witches of Wadingburn, but he had met Evangeline and her cronies from time to time, and this was a witch of a very different type. Evangeline would have had cold cream and sympathy all over the dogs by now, disregarding their drooling jaws and sharpened teeth. This witch had shown nothing but a cool curiosity. “What’s that about vipers?” he asked suspiciously.
    “No legs,” Truda explained, and pointed to the dogs.
    “Eh?” Buckleup scratched his balding head.
    Truda decided to take a risk. “It’s an ordinary sort of spell. Dog.
Whoosh!
Viper. Vipers can come in very handy.”
    The wailing of the dogs was beginning to get on Buckleup’s nerves. Any feeling he had for them was entirely connected with how useful they could be. Snarler had brought down many an escaped orphan and was therefore a Good Thing, but Snarler unable to walk, let alone run, was a liability. “I could use a python or two,” he remarked.
    Truda nodded briskly and fished in her pocket for her bag of bones. Pulling it out, she tossed a handful over the squirming dogs. A shower of hissing sparks flew up in the air, turned bright blue, and floated gently down. Snarler and his companions leaped to their completely healed feet, let out a couple of surprised yelps, and hurled themselves at Truda and Buckleup in an ecstasy of gratitude, their tails wagging madly.
    “DOWN!” Buckleup roared, and as the dogs obeyed, he turned to Truda.
    She was trembling with suppressed rage. “Trueheart!” she hissed.
    “What’s that?” Buckleup pushed Snarler away as the dog tried to lick his hand. “What’s a Trueheart? And where’s my snake?”
    Truda did her best to look as if she were in control of the situation. “You’ve got your dogs back, haven’t you?”
    Buckleup folded his arms. “Just a minute. You said you were going to give me a python. I don’t say as I’m not grateful that Snarler’s back on his pins, but a snake’s a snake, and a deal’s a deal.” He stroked his bristly chin thoughtfully. “Good at tracking, are they? I’ve got a missing norphan, and I need to catch her pronto.”
    “Use your dogs,” Truda snapped. She was feeling decidedly unwell. She was used to the occasional malfunction in her Deep Magic spells, as there was no quality control over dragon’s bone, but it seemed that here in the Five Kingdoms, nothing she did turned out as she had expected. She wanted to practice a little serious nastiness without this large, foolish man glaring at her.
    Buckleup grunted angrily but whistled his dogs back around him. “I’ll be waiting for that snake,” he growled. “Like I say — a deal’s a deal. And if you happen to see a skinny little wretch of a norphan trailing along the road, tell her I’ll have