Wychetts and the Tome of Terror

by William Holley

  Chapter 3- The Library

  Bryony stood in front of the large fireplace, her imploring gaze locked on the carved wooden face above the hearth.

  “But Inglenook,” she whispered. “You have to help me. If I get low grades next week, I’ll be split up from my friends.”

  “That would be unfortunate,” agreed Inglenook, his deep voice gently resonating through every brick and timber of the cottage. “True friends are hard to come by in this world.”

  “Exactly.” Bryony nodded. “And I’ve gone out of my way to impress Saffy and Jaz.”

  “One should not need to impress one’s friends,” reflected Inglenook. “Real friends should like you for what you are, not what they think you should be.”

  Bryony folded her arms. “I didn’t come here for a lecture. All I’m asking for is a bit of magic to help me pass my exams.”

  Inglenook’s carved eyes narrowed. “As you know young Mistress, it is against the creed of the Wise Ones to use magic for personal gain.”

  Bryony shrugged. “I won’t be gaining anything except some lousy marks. But I’ll lose my friends if I fail.”

  “True friends are never lost,” said Inglenook. “True friends remain friends forever.”

  “Not in different classes they don’t.” Bryony produced the torn piece of paper from her pocket, which she thrust in front of Inglenook’s wooden nose. “This is a letter to Jane, signed by all my teachers. They’re complaining about my behaviour in class, and are blaming Saffy and Jaz for being a bad influence. The teachers say that if I my exam marks aren’t good I should be split up from Saffy and Jaz next term.”

  “Then may I suggest you work hard to improve your marks,” said Inglenook.

  “That’s the problem,” sighed Bryony. “There’s no way I’ll be able to revise enough before the exams start. I haven’t paid attention to any lessons all term. Except one day in Art, and that was only because I had to make enough papier-mâché to bung up the teachers’ toilets.”

  Inglenook frowned. “And why did you have to do that?”

  “Saffy and Jaz made me do it.” Bryony giggled. “And it worked a treat. The toilets were out of order for a whole week, and everyone blamed Walrus Wallwork.”

  “Walrus Wallwork?”

  “Mr Wallwork, the Deputy Head. Or as we call him, the ‘Deputy Slap Head’. He’s bald, see. As well as fat. And when he gets angry he goes all red like a beetroot…”

  “Ahem.” Inglenook cleared his throat. “It sounds like Saffy and Jaz may be a bad influence on you, after all. Now if you need to revise, I suggest you read over your course books.”

  “I don’t have any,” said Bryony. “Saffy and Jaz said it wasn’t cool to carry books around, so I threw them in a ditch.”

  “Books are valuable items.” Inglenook’s normally cheery voice took on a reproachful tone. “You should not dispose of them so readily.”

  Bryony rolled her eyes. “You’re worse than the teachers. I should have known you wouldn’t be any help.”

  Inglenook smiled. “I did not say I wouldn’t help.”

  There was a rumbling noise, and a portion of lounge wall slid back.

  “What’s this?” Bryony peered nervously into the opening.

  “Go in and see,” said Inglenook. “It is perfectly safe to enter.”

  Bryony walked through the opening, and found a flight of steps smothered in dust and cobwebs.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked, walking slowly down the steps.

  “Do not fear.” Inglenook’s deep voice echoed down the stairwell. “You are nearly there.”

  “But where am I?” Bryony reached the bottom of the stairs and gazed around her in bewilderment.

  “The Library of the Wise Ones,” said Inglenook.

  “A library?”

  Bryony couldn’t recall the last time she had visited a library, but she was sure it had looked nothing like this.

  She was in a vast, cathedral like room. The walls were lined with shelves of books, shelves upon shelves of books rising as high as she could see. Some people might have found it an impressive sight, but Bryony wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  “What do I need a library for?”

  “To help you study,” said Inglenook. “The Library of the Wise Ones contains every book ever written, in every language ever spoken, in hardback and paperback.”

  “Wow.” At last Bryony was slightly impressed. “Has it got a DVD section?”

  “No, but I’m thinking of installing a coffee shop.”

  “It’s a bit grimy.” Bryony noted that all the shelves were coated in dust.

  “Please accept my apologies,” said Inglenook. “The Library hasn’t been used for several hundred years, and we had to lay off the cleaner due to public spending cuts.”

  Bryony frowned. “But how can a room full of dusty old books help me pass my exams?”

  “Books contain knowledge,” replied Inglenook. “A book is a gateway to a world of understanding.”

  “So if I read all these books, I’ll become a genius?”

  “It is not quite as simple as that. Although they contain knowledge in written form, you cannot learn everything from books. Experience is the key to true understanding. It is not just what you learn, but how you learn it that counts. Now which subjects are you being tested on first?”

  “Not sure.” Bryony hadn’t paid much attention to the exam timetable. “Think it might be Geography.”

  “Any particular area?”

  “Probably the main hall. That’s where most of the exams take place.”

  “I meant any particular geographic region,” said Inglenook. “Have your lessons focused on a specific country or continent?”

  “What’s a continent?” asked Bryony.

  “I think you’d better start with the basics.” No sooner had Inglenook spoken than a large book appeared in Bryony’s arms.

  “Thanks.” Bryony did her best to sound genuine. “I’m also doing History.”

  “Which period?”

  “Normally the one before lunch on a Tuesday.”

  “I meant which particular period in history. Roman, Medieval, Napoleonic?”

  “Napoleonic?” Bryony frowned. “Isn’t that a type of ice cream?”

  “Again,” said Inglenook, “perhaps we should focus on the fundamentals.”

  A second heavy book appeared on top of the first.

  “Any other subjects?” asked Inglenook.

  “Maths.” The word filled Bryony with dread.

  “Algebra?” suggested Inglenook.

  Bryony winced. “Think I’m getting one holding these books.”

  Inglenook chuckled. “I believe these might be in order.”

  Three more large volumes were added to the stack.

  “There’s also Science,” said Bryony. “Physics, Biology, Chemistry.”

  More volumes piled up in Bryony’s arms.

  “But it’s no use,” she groaned, struggling to hold the ever-growing tower of books. “I’ll never be able to read all these in time.”

  “Which is all part of the learning experience, young Mistress. For if you had studied during the term, you would not be in this position now.”

  “You’re no help at all,” grumbled Bryony. “All I’m asking for is a little bit of magic.”

  “As I have told you before, the Wise Ones forbade the use of magic for personal aggrandizement.”

  “What’s aggrandizement?”

  “That one’s a dictionary,” said Inglenook, as the largest book yet materialised at the top of the pile. “I suggest you look it up.”

  Bryony dropped the books, and then coughed as she was enveloped in a cloud of dust.

  “I can’t read all these,” she spluttered. “Haven’t you got one book covering everything I need to know? What about this one?”

  Bryony had spotted a large book lying on a shelf right in front of her. It had a purple leather cover, but there was no title on the spine. For some
reason she seemed drawn to it…

  “Please do not touch that book,” said Inglenook.

  But Bryony had already picked up the book. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked. The leather cover had a scaly feel to it, and the front was etched with weird, angular symbols.

  “So what is it?” Bryony’s curiosity was aroused by the strange looking book.

  “That is the Tome Terriblis.” Inglenook’s voice became very serious.

  “Odd title for a book,” reflected Bryony.

  “No one knows its true title,” said Inglenook. “For it was created by an unknown hand centuries ago in the Dark Times of Chaos, long before the Wise Ones defined the Laws of Magic. So please return the book to the shelf, it is not for lending.”

  “So what’s it about?” Bryony ran her fingers across the Tome’s scaly cover. “Looks like some sort of spell book.”

  “Indeed it is,” confirmed Inglenook. “The most powerful spell book ever.”

  “Cool!” Bryony opened the book, and recoiled at the musty stench that rose from its yellowed pages. Its yellowed, blank pages.

  “But there’s no words.” She flicked through the book and saw that every page was empty. “Where are the spells?”

  “The Tome Terriblis is different to most spell books,” explained Inglenook. “Instead of reading the spells, you have to write them yourself. The power in the Tome takes words and turns them into magic. Literally.”

  Bryony nodded, her lips curving into a smile. “So whatever I write will actually happen?”

  “Indeed. But as I said, the book is not for lending. I am merely keeping it here for safekeeping. You see the book’s magic is not subject to the Magic Laws of the Wise Ones, so if the Tome Terriblis fell into the wrong hands the results could be catastrophic.”

  Bryony almost dropped the Tome. “So this spell book is evil?”

  “The Tome itself is not possessed of any intelligence,” said Inglenook, putting Bryony at ease. “Therefore it is neither good nor evil. But as I said, it could be a dangerous weapon, so must remain in the library at all times.”

  “Sure.” Bryony laid the Tome Terriblis back on the shelf. “Wouldn’t want that to happen, would we? Suppose I’d better get studying with these other books you gave me.”

  Bryony picked up the discarded books one by one, and stacked them on top of the Tome Terriblis. Then, very carefully, she lifted all the books and carried them back up the stairs into the lounge.

  “Cheers Inglenook.” Bryony smiled at the fireplace as the library entrance closed behind her. “You’ve been a great help as always.”

  “I am here to serve, young Mistress. Oh, and more thing. It’s a fifty pence fine for late returns.”

  “Fifty pence?” Bryony screwed her face up. “That’s a bit petty.”

  “I apologise,” said Inglenook. “But those are the rules of the library.”

  “Rules are for dweeps,” snorted Bryony, heaving the books from the lounge.

  “Dweeps.” Inglenook repeated the word to himself, his wooden face crumpling into a frown. “I am not sure I’ve come across that word before. I must borrow that dictionary when the young Mistress returns it.”