Chapter 645 - Madam O’Germanova Ⅱ (1/2)

A low, throbbing cry as if foretelling death causes Sanderson to flinch as he reaches for his wand. ”Calm yourself, lad,” Madam O'Germnova said with a leering grin. ”It's only, Polly.”

Cackling Madam O'Germanova rises to her feet and pulls her shawl that much closer around her. Striding over to a corner of the room, she uncovers a birdcage and coos to the bird inside. ”Polly want a cracker?” The old gypsy teased.

The thin, mournfully looking greenish-black bird lets out another shriek and impatiently snaps its beak at her. Madam O'Germanova chuckles as she reaches into a semi-open drawer next to the cage and pulls out semi-rotting meat.

Tossing the meat inside, Madam O'Germanova watches the somewhat underfed looking vulture-like creature tear the meat to shred-like pieces. Covering the cage again, she says, ”Augurey's have always served me well in the past and still in the present. They are excellent weather predictors and can read a person's intent for true.”

Taking a seat again, Madam O'Germanova asks, ”So what will it be lad?”

”Divination,” Sanderson instantly replied.

Madam O'Germanova wags her long, yellow fingered nail at him. ”Tut-tut, Sanderson, you really should know better than that, lad. You don't want no muggle paltry tricks, but an actual reading, and that costs good coin,” she said with a moneygrubbing leer as her fingers rub together as if holding a coin between them.

”I have a powerful enemy,” Sanderson slowly said. ”And I do not trust in tarot cards.”

”Mmm,” Madam O'Germanova hummed thoughtfully as she scratched her dry skinned chin. ”No tarot cards, eh? Then that doesn't leave us much room to work with.”

”No, no, a crystal ball is too weak,” Madam O'Germanova continued to murmur herself. ”And I trust not tea leaves and any of the other old ways to give us a proper reading.”

Suddenly a satisfied gleam enters her eyes as Madam O'Germanova lowers her hand and says, ”Well, there is one way that I can think of, but it comes with an additional price of its own.”

”What?” Sanderson impatiently asked.

”Bone runes,” Madam O'Germanova said with relish at almost watching Sanderson flinch. ”I have in my possession bone runes forged from the bones of our enemies. But of course, the bones itself will require an additional price, the sacrifice of one of your own bones in exchange for the reading itself.”

”Never,” Sanderson hissed with indignation as he rose to his feet and caused his chair to fall backward onto the musty carpeted ground with a dull thud.

”Then it will be no skin off of my teeth,” Madam O'Germanova cackled with vile glee as she folded her arms over her sagging chest. ”But I wonder if the same can be said for you, Sanderson? You would not be here if you were truly not desperate, and with the Priest of the Spirits dead, there is no one else who you'd trust with such sensitive information that will emerge still living from such a private reading.”

Sanderson's hands clench for a moment before he forcefully causes them to relax. Bending down, he tightens his chair again and sits back down on the wobbly chair. ”How much is required?” Sanderson coldly asked. Find authorized novels in , faster updates, better experience, Please click #%E2%80%99germanova-%E2%85%B1_51537333182319341 for visiting.

Madam O'Germanova smacks her lips in delight and says, ”A single digit will do. So, what will it be?” And then pulled out a sharp blade from under her seat that had blood dried stains running down from it.

”I will do so on my own,” Sanderson growled causing his yellow wolfish eyes to almost glow. ”I'd probably contract some vile disease if I used that.”

”Suit yourself,” Madam O'Germanova innocently said with a shrug as she watched the lad remove his boot and sock.

Madam O'Germanova wisely keeps quiet as Sanderon without any hesitation slices his pinky toe clean off with a hex, before with a practiced wave of his wand staunching the flow of the blood. Madam O'Germanova eagerly stretches her gnarled hands for the toe, but Sanderson sharply barks, ”Only the bone was wagered for, do not take me for a fool, soothsayer. You will not be receiving a single speck of flesh nor blood from me!”

Madam O'Germanova snarls in anger at being found out and can only painfully watch Sanderson vanish the blood and flesh from his bone. Not a single trace of blood nor flesh is left leaving a gleaming, white, tiny pinky toe bone behind. Without another word, Sanderson puts on his shoe and boot, despite the pain in his foot. With one glance around, he casts a cleaning charm to destroy any manicure traces of his blood left behind, before facing the old soothsayer.

”Payment only after the reading is concluded, soothsayer,” Sanderson coldly barked as he held his pinky bone tightly held in the palm of his wandless hand.

Madam O'Germanova's lips curl in further displeasure as she says, ”Gold now, bone later.”