Wychetts and the Tome of Terror

by William Holley

  Chapter 4- The Spell Wizard

  Ignoring the other books dumped on the floor, Bryony picked up the Tome Terriblis and placed it on her bed. In the light of the bedside lamp she noticed how scarred and battered the scaly purple cover was. She studied the weird symbols on the front of the book; she’d never seen their like before, and assumed it was some sort of ancient foreign language.

  She opened the Tome carefully, trying not to inhale the musty stench that wafted from its curled yellow pages.

  Bryony fished a pen from her school bag, and sat chewing the end thoughtfully. She’d never written a spell before. If she wanted magic done, all she did was make a wish or ask Inglenook.

  How was a spell supposed to start? Should she use special words like abracadabra or hocuspocus? Perhaps she had to make up her own magic word? How about abrahocopus? No, that sounded like some sort of medical complaint. What about hocuscadabra? Even worse. Or maybe…

  As Bryony tried to think of a word, she tapped the tip of the pen against the page. Suddenly there was a puff of purple smoke, and a strange figure appeared in front of her. It was only about twelve inches high, wearing a purple cloak and a pointed hat with golden stars on it. The figure had no visible face, and hovered in the air above the opened pages of the book.

  “Hello,” said the figure in a squeaky voice. “It looks like you’re trying to write a spell. Would you a) like help writing the spell, or b) just write the spell without help.”

  “Er…” Bryony stared at the figure. “Who are you?”

  “I am the Spell Wizard,” said the figure in the pointed hat. “And I’m here to help you write the spell. Would you a) like help writing the spell, or b) just write the spell without help.”

  “Help would be nice,” replied Bryony.

  “Really?” The Spell Wizard sounded surprised. “Most people just switch me off. Now what spell format would you like? Olde Worlde, Chic Urban or Default?”

  Bryony shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

  “Font?”

  “Whatever,” said Bryony.

  “Bold or italic?”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Justified or standard paragraphs?”

  Bryony was beginning to think this Spell Wizard was more of a hindrance than a help. “Can’t we just get on with the spell?”

  “What is the nature of the spell?” said the Spell Wizard. “Personal, business or formal occasion?”

  “Personal, I suppose. Can we start now?”

  “Nearly done. Finally I need to know what the spell is for.”

  “At last!” Bryony sighed with relief. “I want a spell to make me clever, so I can pass all my exams at school next week.”

  “Thank you. Please wait whilst I process your requirements.” The Spell Wizard produced a little hourglass from under his hat, and stood there turning it up and down for a few seconds. Then, just as Bryony was about to give up, he slipped the hourglass back under his hat, spread his little arms, and began to chant:

  “Abracadabra hocuspocus,

  I call on the powers of magic to focus,

  And write me a spell,

  So that I’ll pass my test,

  And at school I shall be the best.”

  Bryony gasped as the pen jumped from her hand to write the Spell Wizard’s words on the pages of the Tome.

  “Give me brains and vigour,

  So I’ll know dates and figures.

  Give me knowledge and guile,

  So I’ll be versatile.

  Make me bright as a spark

  So I’ll not only pass,

  But get high enough marks

  To come top of my class!”

  The Spell Wizard finished, and the pen jumped back into Bryony’s hand.

  Bryony waited, but nothing happened. Then she noticed the Spell Wizard was holding the hourglass again.

  “What’s the hold up?” she asked.

  “Just running the spell checker,” said the Spell Wizard.

  Bryony saw a series of green and red squiggly lines flashing under the words in the Tome.

  “The spell check is complete,” announced the Spell Wizard. “Congratulations, your spell is now active.”

  There was a flash of light. Bryony felt a tingling inside her head. Her vision blurred, and for a second she thought she was going to pass out.

  Then she heard a knocking sound, echoing repeatedly in her skull.

  “Bryony?” Edwin’s voice filtered through the closed bedroom door. “Are you awake?”

  Hearing the door creak open, Bryony closed the Tome Terriblis.

  From inside the book came a muffled squeal. Bryony opened the Tome again and saw the Spell Wizard clutching his now bent hat.

  “Please minimise me before shutting down,” pleaded the Spell Wizard.

  Bryony tapped the Spell Wizard’s hat, and he vanished in a puff of blue smoke. She closed the Tome again, more carefully this time, just as Edwin’s face appeared from behind the opened door.

  “Hi,” he whispered, eyeing Bryony carefully. “I heard you talking to someone. Is everything OK?”

  Bryony tried to speak, but for some reason the words wouldn’t form on her tongue.

  “Looks like you’re doing some revising.” Edwin stepped into the room. “First time for everything I suppose. So how’s it going?”

  Bryony still couldn’t speak.

  “Not so good eh?” A smirk formed on Edwin’s lips. “Don’t worry. The exam markers give ten points for spelling your name right, so you’re in with a chance of getting five.”

  Bryony wanted to tell Edwin to go away, but her tongue was still paralysed.

  “I see you’ve got some books,” Edwin examined the dusty volumes strewn on the floor. “Now all you’ve got to do is learn to read, and there’ll be no stopping you.”

  Bryony would have screamed at Edwin, but could only manage a faint whimper.

  “But even if you can read, you’ve left it way too late.” Edwin shook his head. “Revision needs to be carefully planned. It’s almost a science in itself.”

  A bitter taste formed on Bryony’s tongue, and she felt a horrible sensation rising in her throat. She clamped a hand across her mouth, but couldn’t stop it spurting through her clenched fingers…

  “Science!”

  “That’s right,” said Edwin. “You know what that is, don’t you?”

  “Science is the practical and intellectual activity encompassing the study of the structure and behaviour of the physical world through systematic observation and experiment,” said Bryony.

  Edwin blinked. “So you know what science is. But what do you know about, say, electricity?”

  Bryony replied without hesitation.

  “Electricity is a form of energy resulting from the existence of charged particles, either dynamically as a current or statically as an accumulation of charge.”

  “Correct.” Edwin nodded and frowned at the same time. “But can you tell me anything else about electricity, like how it was discovered?”

  Bryony obliged. “Electrical phenomena have been studied since antiquity, though practical advances were not made until the eighteenth century when Benjamin Franklin attached a metal key to the bottom of a dampened kite string which he flew during a storm, thereby proving that lightning is electrical in nature and that electricity can be conducted through suitable materials.”

  Edwin gawped at his stepsister. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine,” said Bryony, eventually getting her mouth under control. “Just been doing some reading.”

  Edwin glimpsed the purple covered volume on Bryony’s bed. “Must be a good book. Where did you get it from?”

  “I borrowed it from a library.” Bryony leaned across her bed to block Edwin’s view of the Tome. “It’s late. You should get back to bed. Don’t want to feel all sleepy during the exams next week.”

  “I’ll be fine,” said Edwin, turning to the door again. “Not sure about you though.
It’s all right reading stuff in books, but you won’t be allowed to use any books in the tests. And without them you don’t stand a chance.”