Eye of the Wizard by Daniel Arenson

Author:Daniel Arenson [Arenson, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B004LLIC3Q
Published: 2011-01-30T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Dry Bones in Love

Dry Bones stood behind an alehouse, cradling his broken hand.

Ouch.

He had come so close to killing Jamie nicely and discreetly. Then she had stepped on his fingers. For such a diminutive girl, she was surprisingly strong. Two of his fingers had cracked and nearly snapped off.

Cloaked in black, Dry Bones knelt in the dirt, pulled out a spellbook, and began to leaf through it. He was not a great healer. Like all warlocks, he specialized in black magic; he could summon moldmen, grobblers, and the like with ease. When it came to white magic, such as healing, he was a novice. Most warlocks were, for healing spells were the opposite of their dark arts. It was long moments before he found the spell he needed. "Bone Mending", the page was titled.

"There we go," Dry Bones said. The spell was geared toward people with flesh and blood, but Dry Bones figured it would work just as well for a skeleton. He uttered the spell, and his finger bones trembled, flickered with white sparks, and sent warm waves across him, the way wine would when he could still drink it. Before his eyes (or at least, the empty sockets where his eyes once blinked), his finger bones healed.

A useful spell. I should memorize this one.

Dry Bones straightened, leaned against the back of the alehouse, and contemplated his next move. Two days ago, he had picked up the Thistle Kids' trail and had followed them here. To be honest, he had expected to kill them already. His moldmen, Issa, and even his giant spider had failed. The Bullies were lucky, he thought. But no more Mr. Nice Skeleton.

Unfortunately, killing Jamie had failed too, and Dry Bones tapped his chin. Who to go after now? After a moment's contemplation, he decided that killing Scruff should be easy. The brute had signed up for the Feats of Strength, which involved lifting barrels over your head. A barbaric sport, but useful today. Dry Bones would wait until the barrels were over Scruff's head, then cast a spell to make them ten times heavier. They would fall and kill him, much like Scruff himself had killed Issa. Ironic.

"You know, Baumgartner, I really am a genius," he said. "I don't know if you appreciate that."

He opened his cloak and gazed at his pet snake. Baumgartner lay coiled up inside Dry Bones' rib cage, hissing. Dry Bones smiled and patted the snake's head.

"Good boy," he said, pulled a dead mouse from his pocket, and fed it to the snake. Baumgartner bolted it down and licked his chops.

Dry Bones fastened his cloak and pulled his hood over his head. His grobblers too were cloaked and hooded, ten of them spread throughout Queenpool, watching the Bullies, awaiting his command. Dry Bones hoped he wouldn't need them—he preferred to kill the Thistle Kids by staging accidents, which was safer in a city this size—but you never knew when a few grobblers would come in handy.

After making sure that

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