The Color Of Her Panties Read Online Free PDF

where Jenny came from, so she was slow to accept them.  She found a length of wood that would do for a pole, and used it to poke along the edge of the cliff.
    When she passed the section where the path ended, without result, she extended the pole farther and tried going back.  But there still seemed to be nothing solid.  “Are you sure it's here?” she asked.
    Che took another stick and probed for the bridge himself, with no better success.  “I must admit that it doesn't seem to be.  Perhaps someone misdirected the path.”
    “Who would do that?” Jenny asked.
    “Oh, anyone with mischief in mind.  Perhaps Com-Pewter, the evil machine who can change reality.  He's been in a snit, I understand, ever since his plot to make Grey Murphy his slave was foiled.”
    “But how will we find it, if we can't see it and don't know exactly where it is?  “ Then she turned her head to address her cat.  “No, I'm not setting you loose to find it, Sammy!  I'm afraid you'll forget what you're after, and bound into the Gap.” Sammy pretended he was asleep.
    Che shook his head.  “I fear that finding it could take a long time.  It will probably be better to walk on along the Gap until we come to the main bridge, which is both substantial and visible.  I believe it is not unduly far out of our way.  I can make us all lighter so that we will not get tired from the extra walk, and we can perhaps proceed more rapidly.”
    They did that.  They walked along the cleared region near the brink-it seemed that trees did not want to grow too close, lest they fall off-toward the west.  It was fast going, because Che had flicked them, making each girl weigh only a fraction what she usually did.  This could have been dangerous when the winds were high, but this was a quiet day.
    They came to the main bridge-and paused, dismayed.  There was a horrendous demon standing on it, blocking their way.  The thing stood ogre tall, had tremendous tusks, and a glare so intense that the air in its path flickered and smoked.
    “I don't think that creature likes us,” Jenny whispered.
    “But how can a bad creature be on a charmed bridge?” Gwenny asked, adjusting her spectacles to see it better.
    “There aren't supposed to be any hostiles along the magic paths.”
    “The charm may not work well against demons,” Che said.  “Or the magic of the bridge may be weakening.  We shall have to tell the Good Magician, so he can fix it.”
    “But first we have to get to his castle,” Jenny said.
    “And I don't think we're going to do it by crossing this bridge.
    “There is a third bridge,” Che said, checking the map.
    “I suppose the sensible thing to do is go to it.
    Gwenny sighed.  “I suppose so.  But it is getting late.
    They walked on west, leaving the glowering demon behind.  When they slowed, Che flicked them all, including himself, and they got lighter and faster.
    They came to the third bridge.  It was narrow but looked solid.  Jenny stepped toward it.
    “Wait,” Che said.  He took a stick and poked it at the planking.  “I was afraid of that.”
    “Afraid of what?” Jenny asked.
    “It isn't solid.  See, the stick pokes right through it without resistance.”
    “But the map shows it!” Gwenny protested, upset.  “It's not supposed to be illusion.”
    “It isn't.  It's one-way-going the other way.”
    “But we have to go our way!”
    “I am not certain of the mechanism of it,” Che said.
    “I suspect that someone recently used it, and that it reverses after use, to allow the person to return, or just to be fair to the other side.  We just happened to arrive at the wrong time.”
    Gwenny stamped her delicate little foot.  “Oh, this is so frustrating! Were I not the daughter of a chief, I would say something disreputable.”
    “Perhaps Jenny could say it instead,” Che suggested.
    “She's not royal, as far as we know.  What expression did you have in mind?”
    “Big mice.  Maybe