Read Online The Bag of Bones by Vivian French - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vivian French
Tags: Ages 8 & Up
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doubtfully. “Are you sure you’ll be OK? We’re not supposed to go outside the borders.”
“I’ve done it before,” Marcus said. “Besides, it’s not far from the House of the Ancient Crones. I’ll ask Gracie to give me a hand. It’ll be easier to catch the peacock with two of us.”
Prince Arioso, heir to Gorebreath, shuddered. “If you say so. I can’t think of anything worse than trailing around horrible forests full of scary animals and horrible trolls and —”
“Hey!” Marcus frowned. “Trolls are OK!” He tucked the map inside his jacket and sat down at a desk. “How do you spell
apologize
?”
Arry told him, and for a few minutes there was no sound except for the scratching of pens.
Then Marcus jumped up, waving his letter. “Finished!”
Arry glanced at his brother’s handiwork and opened his mouth to point out that there were at least five spelling mistakes and two large blots. Remembering how long it would take Marcus to correct these, however, he changed his mind and merely said, “Well done, bro — but maybe we should fold it up and seal it before Mother sees it.”
“Whatever,” Marcus said happily. Arry finished his own letter with several twirls and a flourish, and Marcus pounced on it. “I’ll seal yours as well,” he offered, and lit a taper. The smell of melting wax filled the air, and Marcus thunked down the royal seal with enthusiasm. “There!” he announced. “All done. I’ll be off now. Don’t forget to rumple up my bed tonight, Arry — and enjoy your two breakfasts!”
Arry nodded. “You will be back by tomorrow evening, won’t you? Mother’ll have fifty-nine spasms and a fainting fit if you aren’t here in time to get ready for the party.”
Marcus was already in the doorway. “No worries. I’ll be back with handfuls of feathers by then. You get busy practicing your dance steps for Queen Bluebell’s Declaration Ball!” And he was gone.
Arioso sighed. He found himself wishing that his tutor, Professor Scallio, was still living in the palace instead of in a cottage with his sister somewhere in the Less Enchanted Forest. The professor was the only person who had ever been able to direct Marcus’s wilder ideas into more practical channels; King Frank and Queen Mildred made no impression on him whatsoever. If anything, they made him worse; Arry had noticed long ago that the more his parents put pressure on Marcus to conform, the more he refused to do so. Arry sighed again. He hated having to ruffle his hair and rush around, pretending to be his own brother, but perhaps it was a small price to pay for the bliss of dancing with Nina-Rose for an entire evening. He went to wash the ink from his fingers before going downstairs to give his mother a blow-by-blow account of the morning’s visit, with certain careful omissions — notably the demand for a white peacock feather.
Marlon was frustrated. He had thought that he, Loobly, and Alf would arrive at Wadingburn Palace early in the morning, but he had completely failed to realize how slowly Loobly would travel once she thought they were out of danger. Years and years of being incarcerated in the orphanage washhouse meant that, for her, the outside world was a place of wonder, and she stopped to look at every plant and tree. She peered into rabbit burrows and whistled up at nests, and it was nearly lunchtime before they finally reached the back door of the kitchen.
Then, to Marlon’s intense irritation, she refused to go inside. “No like meeting peoples,” was all she would say when Alf asked her what was wrong.
“But you won’t
be
meeting people, kiddo!” Marlon said in exasperated tones. “You’ll be scrubbing floors and washing dishes and all that stuff. Lowest of the low. You’ll be emptying all the rattraps, I expect, and —” Marlon stopped.
An expression of interest had flickered across Loobly’s thin little face. “Rats?” she whispered.
“Horrid things,” Alf chipped in. “But
“I’ve done it before,” Marcus said. “Besides, it’s not far from the House of the Ancient Crones. I’ll ask Gracie to give me a hand. It’ll be easier to catch the peacock with two of us.”
Prince Arioso, heir to Gorebreath, shuddered. “If you say so. I can’t think of anything worse than trailing around horrible forests full of scary animals and horrible trolls and —”
“Hey!” Marcus frowned. “Trolls are OK!” He tucked the map inside his jacket and sat down at a desk. “How do you spell
apologize
?”
Arry told him, and for a few minutes there was no sound except for the scratching of pens.
Then Marcus jumped up, waving his letter. “Finished!”
Arry glanced at his brother’s handiwork and opened his mouth to point out that there were at least five spelling mistakes and two large blots. Remembering how long it would take Marcus to correct these, however, he changed his mind and merely said, “Well done, bro — but maybe we should fold it up and seal it before Mother sees it.”
“Whatever,” Marcus said happily. Arry finished his own letter with several twirls and a flourish, and Marcus pounced on it. “I’ll seal yours as well,” he offered, and lit a taper. The smell of melting wax filled the air, and Marcus thunked down the royal seal with enthusiasm. “There!” he announced. “All done. I’ll be off now. Don’t forget to rumple up my bed tonight, Arry — and enjoy your two breakfasts!”
Arry nodded. “You will be back by tomorrow evening, won’t you? Mother’ll have fifty-nine spasms and a fainting fit if you aren’t here in time to get ready for the party.”
Marcus was already in the doorway. “No worries. I’ll be back with handfuls of feathers by then. You get busy practicing your dance steps for Queen Bluebell’s Declaration Ball!” And he was gone.
Arioso sighed. He found himself wishing that his tutor, Professor Scallio, was still living in the palace instead of in a cottage with his sister somewhere in the Less Enchanted Forest. The professor was the only person who had ever been able to direct Marcus’s wilder ideas into more practical channels; King Frank and Queen Mildred made no impression on him whatsoever. If anything, they made him worse; Arry had noticed long ago that the more his parents put pressure on Marcus to conform, the more he refused to do so. Arry sighed again. He hated having to ruffle his hair and rush around, pretending to be his own brother, but perhaps it was a small price to pay for the bliss of dancing with Nina-Rose for an entire evening. He went to wash the ink from his fingers before going downstairs to give his mother a blow-by-blow account of the morning’s visit, with certain careful omissions — notably the demand for a white peacock feather.
Marlon was frustrated. He had thought that he, Loobly, and Alf would arrive at Wadingburn Palace early in the morning, but he had completely failed to realize how slowly Loobly would travel once she thought they were out of danger. Years and years of being incarcerated in the orphanage washhouse meant that, for her, the outside world was a place of wonder, and she stopped to look at every plant and tree. She peered into rabbit burrows and whistled up at nests, and it was nearly lunchtime before they finally reached the back door of the kitchen.
Then, to Marlon’s intense irritation, she refused to go inside. “No like meeting peoples,” was all she would say when Alf asked her what was wrong.
“But you won’t
be
meeting people, kiddo!” Marlon said in exasperated tones. “You’ll be scrubbing floors and washing dishes and all that stuff. Lowest of the low. You’ll be emptying all the rattraps, I expect, and —” Marlon stopped.
An expression of interest had flickered across Loobly’s thin little face. “Rats?” she whispered.
“Horrid things,” Alf chipped in. “But
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