The Misadventures of the Magician's Dog Read Online Free PDF Page A

ears shot up. “How did you . . . That was actually what I was planning to do. Teach you magic, I mean. Seeing as it’s your birthday and all.”
    Peter felt a shiver climb his spine. He couldn’t imagine why The Dog was offering such an amazing gift; all he knew was that he wanted The Dog to teach him quickly, before he chickened out or The Dog changed his mind. “You will? Really? When?”
    â€œWhy not now?” said The Dog, standing up and wagging his plumy tail.

Chapter Four

    Peter told his mother he was going to bed. This was The Dog’s suggestion. He said learning magic might take a while, and it would be better if they were left alone.
    â€œSo early?” said Peter’s mother, glancing at her watch. “It’s not even nine yet.”
    Peter faked a yawn. “I’m pretty tired.”
    Peter’s mother yawned as well, and her yawn wasn’t faked. “I guess I’m tired, too. But I’ve got another twenty papers to grade tonight.” Peter’s mother taught history at a nearby high school; she had been lucky to find a job, she told Peter, but he knew she missed her old school district in New Jersey, where his father’s last base had been. They had spent two years there, the longest Peter had ever lived in one place in his life.
    â€œListen, Peter,” his mother said, pushing her reading glasses up so that they rested on top of her head. “I wanted to ask you—was it a good birthday?”
    â€œIt was great,” said Peter. “Thanks for the cake. And the new video game, too.”
    â€œAnd the dog?” his mother asked. Thin lines of worry formed between her brows.
    â€œThank you especially for The Dog,” said Peter, and he sounded as though he meant it, even to his own ears. He still didn’t quite believe that any of this was real, but if it was a dream, he didn’t think he wanted to wake up—not yet, anyway. “I know he’s . . . well, he’s going to make life more interesting, anyway.”
    â€œI’m glad,” Peter’s mother said. She leaned forward to kiss Peter lightly on his forehead, and he smelled the citrus scent of her shampoo mixed with the sharp tang of the mint tea she’d been drinking. They were his favorite smells, the ones he’d been breathing all his life. “I know it was hard this year, having your dad gone and all. You were really brave about it.”
    â€œI’m not brave,” said Peter. “I’m scared of more things than anyone.”
    â€œYou’re brave in the ways that count,” said his mother. “And today—well, today you adopted a dog!”
    â€œI guess,” said Peter.
    â€œSweet dreams,” said Peter’s mother.
    â€œThanks,” said Peter, and he headed back to his room.
    The next magic The Dog did was to make three pillows and a stuffed animal look like a sleeping Peter and a sleeping Dog. “Put them there,” The Dog told Peter. “That’s right. Close to each other on the bed.”
    â€œMy mom would never believe I’d let you sleep near me,” Peter objected.
    The Dog snorted. “Don’t worry: when it comes timeto actually go to bed, I’ll find a nice spot on the floor. But if the illusions are close together, I can do one spell instead of two, and illusions can be tricky to maintain if you’re not next to them. And your mom will probably think it’s cute that we’re sleeping next to each other.”
    â€œWas it an illusion when you changed into a dragon?”
    The Dog gave the dog equivalent of a shrug. “Maybe. But I could turn into a real dragon if I wanted to.”
    Peter wanted to ask more about this, but before he could, The Dog focused his attention once again on the bed. Peter wasn’t sure exactly what he expected to happen next: incantations, tail waving, something grandiose. Instead, The Dog closed his