Chapter One

"Wheeeeee!" The small bat did a double backip, then a twist, and landed neatly on the branch below.

"Did you see me, Uncle Marlon? Did you SEE me?" Alf squeaked.

"Shh!" The older bat apped a warning wing. "Button up, kiddo. We’ve got company." He stared into the night.

"Hmph. It’s those dames from Wadingburn."

The small bat’s eyes widened.

"The witches? Oh, Uncle Marlon! Can we stay ’n’ watch? Will they do
scary spells?"

"They’re no big deal, kiddo."

The older bat settled
back on his branch.

"Deep Magic’s not allowed in the Five Kingdoms. This lot are Shallow, through and through. Couldn’t magic a bird off a branch. But keep mum, all the same. You don’t want to end up in a pot. Your ma’ll kill me if I bring you back half-boiled."

The small bat shivered, half in fear, half with plea
sure.

"Okeydokey, Uncle M."

And he froze into stillness as he watched the line of women, varying in shape and size but all dressed in black, making their way into the clearing at the top of Wadingburn Hill. Limping at the end of the line was the small, skinny fgure of a girl, her head bent tenderly over the bundle in her arms. As the witches hurried here and there, collecting frewood and setting up the old and dented black cauldron, she slipped away and settled herself at the foot of the tree where the two bats hung motionless. Softly she began to croon to the bundled-up object she was holding, rocking it gently to and fro.

"Loobly Higgins!" said a terrible voice. "What on
EARTH do you think you’re doing?"

Loobly jumped. "N-n-n-nothing, Auntie," she
quavered.

The Grand High Witch of Wadingburn took a step closer. "Did my eyes deceive me, or were you KISSING that rat?"

Loobly shook her head so hard that her long, stringy hair broke loose from its ribbon and fell over her thin little face. "Wasn’t kissing it," she whispered.

"Not kissing. Just telling sorry. Sorry it be picklifed."

The Grand High Witch sighed in exasperation. "It’ll be no use now. No use at all. How many times do I have to tell you to leave my ingredients alone?"

"Sorry, Auntie Levangeline. Loobly hear you. Loobly very sorry." Loobly pushed the hair out of her eyes and looked up hopefully. "If no use, can Loobly keep he?"

"Certainly NOT!" The witch was on the point of snatching the rat away when she was distracted by the sound of cackling laughter. Instantly forgetting Loobly, she turned to see her fie fellow witches gathering around the cauldron that was now bubbling gently in the center of the clearing. At once the Grand High Witch drew herself to her full height and strode forward to greet them.

"Dear Mrs. Cringe! I’m so glad you’re with us tonight! And Mrs. Vibble and Mrs. Prag as well. Fabulous! And darling Ms. Scurrilous is here too! And Mrs. . . ."

The Grand High Witch faltered for a moment. What was the name of the hunched old witch on the far side of the fire? Even with the flames now burning brightly under the cauldron, it was too dark to see her face. It certainly wasn’t Mrs. Gabbage, and Ms. Pettigroan had sent a bat earlier that evening with polite apologies. Mrs. Cringe shufed up, looking distinctly guilty, and the Grand High Witch’s heart sank. Even worse, her little toe had begun to throb, which was a far more reliable warning of impending trouble. She had always been wary of Mrs. Cringe, not least because she was known to have relations outside the Five Kingdoms who were suspected of indulging in Deep Magic of the nastiest kind.

"A

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Excerpted from The Bag of Bones: The Second Tale from the Five Kingdoms by Vivian French
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.