William Wright and the Dragon's Treasure

by Uriah Szilagyi

  Chapter 2: The Book of Spells

  Other than Miss Peebottom giving him dirty looks, the afternoon class went by without much happening to William. During class, however, one thing did bother him. Why hadn’t the Twins tried to get him as he left the library? They normally chased him. Maybe they were planning something big to get back at him instead.

  After the bell rang for supper, William headed out of Miss Peebottom’s class and straight to the school’s large dining hall. Along the way, William noticed the other students avoiding him.

  “Stay away from him,” he heard one of them whisper. “I don’t want to be head flushed.”

  It seemed the Twins had been busy bullying William’s class mates during lunchtime. They obviously felt threatened by William making new friends and potential allies.

  Once inside the grubby dining hall, William filled his tray up with all that was available to the students: putrid gruel and a week old bread roll. With the Twins nowhere to be seen, he seated himself in a secluded spot and gazed into the slimy pile of food matter wobbling in his tray. The smell that rose up from the tray was sickening, but there was nothing else on the menu.

  William pinched his nose and took a small spoonful.

  “Yuck! This is horrible,” he said, spitting out the gruel. “Maybe I’ll have a look at that weird book I found in the library before having anymore.”

  After going through his bag, William pulled out the ancient looking book. Slowly, he opened it up to the first chapter and read:

  INTRODUCTION TO CASTING SPELLS.

  The first step in learning to cast a spell is achieving the pronunciation of that spell correctly. Many a time has one been chased by an angry dwarf and wished to cast an invisibility spell, only to accidentally make one’s clothes disappear.

  The pages of the book were filled with the most elegant writing William had ever seen. The first chapter contained lots of information about how to cast spells, how to mix potions up and a list of practical spells that every wizard should know. William was an exceptionally fast reader for his age, and in no time, he had read the entire first chapter. At the end of the chapter, there was a short quiz. William chose to skip it and see what chapter two was about, but when he tried to open it up, he discovered the pages firmly stuck together.

  “What a pity,” he thought depressingly. “This book really caught my interest.”

  He then peered down on the quiz and read:

  TESTING YOUR KNOWLEDGE

  How would one:

  1 -- Extinguish a candle made of black beeswax.

  2 -- Temporarily silence a wicked witch from casting curses.

  3 -- Deter a garish goblin.

  “I know the answers to these,” muttered William, skimming through the list. “The first one’s easy. It’s just a matter of saying --”

  William unknowingly said the spell out loud.

  All of a sudden, the lights in the windowless hall flickered and died, leaving everybody in pitch blackness.

  “Who on earth turned out the lights,” William heard Mr Boil bellow, as students and teachers accidentally spilled their suppers on the floor.

  “Go and check the fuse box,” squawked Miss Peebottom.

  “You better not mean me,” answered Mr Boil. “I’m the headmaster, and nobody tells me what to do.”

  Just then, when the hall had quietened down a bit, everybody heard a cheeky student sing out:

  “Mr Boil, Mr Boil,

  He wears a funny wig,

  Mr Boil, Mr Boil,

  He’s smelly like a pig.”

  The hall filled with giggles and laughter.

  “Out of my way, move!” roared Mr Boil, stampeding through students as he made his way out of the hall.

  “I couldn’t have had anything to do with this … could I?” pondered William, waiting for the lights to come back on.

  Abruptly, the lights flickered on and Mr Boil walked back into the hall. William noticed Mr Boil looking a bit bewildered as he sat back down at the teachers’ table. Maybe it wasn’t the fuse after all.

  With lights on once more, William turned back to examining the book. As he glanced down at the quiz page, he discovered something very unusual: a gold coloured tick was next to the first question.

  “That tick wasn’t there when I last looked … was it?” William tried hard to remember. “This book isn’t really magic, is it?” He grinned. “I guess there’s only one way I’m going to find out for sure.”

  William then whispered the spell for the second question and anxiously waited for something outrageous to happen like the roof taking off or the chairs to start dancing.

  “Nothing, what an anticlimax,” he said with a sigh.

  But then he remembered something, the tick! William quickly looked down at the page and hoped. The seconds felt like hours, but it was happening, a golden tick was magically appearing next to the question.

  “This is amazing,” he said excitedly, “but what about something weird --”

  Suddenly, William heard a loud commotion going on at the teachers’ table.

  “What’s the problem?” asked Mr Boil hysterically, standing over Miss Peebottom. “Speak to me!”

  Miss Peebottom sat bulgy eyed, frantically pointing at her throat and making wheezing sounds.

  One of the more sensible teachers jumped out of their chair and ran out to call an ambulance, just as Mrs Dumpling, the school’s extremely overweight cook, charged out of the kitchen.

  “Out of my way,” she said confidently, storming through the teachers and students surrounding Miss Peebottom. “I’ve seen this a hundred times.”

  In one quick action, she heaved Miss Peebottom up from her chair and grabbed her around the lower chest, ready to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre.

  “Ready or not, here we go,” she said, ignoring Miss Peebottom’s desperate protests. “One an’ a two an’ a three, out!”

  After four of these crushing compressions, each one making Miss Peebottom look more and more frazzled, the ambulance officers rushed in. Quickly, they ran over to Miss Peebottom and persuaded Mrs Dumpling to let go of her.

  Miss Peebottom looked a mess. Her hair, which was normally done up in a painfully looking tight bun, was now everywhere. Her glasses had fallen off, landing in a student’s bowl of gruel, and her old fashioned teacher’s uniform was badly torn.

  The officers checked Miss Peebottom’s breathing and made an unexpected discovery.

  “What! She wasn’t choking?” questioned Mr Boil.

  “No, it appears not,” replied one of the ambulance officers. “She’s fine. She just lost her voice, that’s all.”

  Miss Peebottom dizzily nodded her head, indicating that the ambulance officer was indeed correct.

  “Her voice will probably come back by tomorrow,” explained the ambulance officer, “but in the mean time, I suggest she’s left alone to rest.”

  With their job done, the ambulance officers packed up their equipment and left, leaving a sheepish looking Mrs Dumpling to help Miss Peebottom out of the hall.

  “OK, shows over,” yelled Mr Boil, clearing the mess off the teachers’ table, so he could start devouring his second serving of truffle soup. “Get back to eating your suppers.”

  William stared back down at the book, thrilled.

  “I guess that settles it. The book and the spells in it are really magic,” he thought. “The second spell I whispered did work to a degree. Next time, I’ll have to pronounce it better. That’s why it probably affected Miss Peebottom.” He laughed quietly. “Though, she’s pretty close to being a full-blown witch, anyhow.”

  While Mr Boil sat happily gulping down his soup and muttering to himself, William decided to secretly cast the spell for the final question, the one to deter a garish goblin. This would confirm a suspicion he had about the book.

  “Here goes nothing,” said William softly.

  He then took in a deep breath to cast the third spell.

  “Goblins small, goblins t
all,

  I cast this spell, to rid you all.”

  A split-second after the words left William’s lips, an ear-piercing noise filled the hall.

  “It’s the fire alarm!” shrieked Mr Boil, as he leapt from his chair and ran for the nearest exit, spilt soup covering his groin.

  “Everybody get to the nearest exit and stay calm,” called out a less panicked teacher.

  William excitedly looked down at the book, and sure enough, a small tick appeared next to the third question.

  With trembling hands, he attempted to open the book up to chapter two.

  “I knew it, I knew it,” he said repeatedly, as the pages of chapter two freely opened. “The chapters only open up if you successfully answer the quiz at the end correctly … but what happens at the last chapter when there’s no more pages to reveal? I guess I’ll find out when I get to it.”

  William then looked up and discovered the hall completely empty, the usual mouse-sized cockroaches were the only thing remaining. Hastily, he stuffed the book into his bag and ran out towards the playground, where the evacuation point was located.

  “E-e-everybody just stay calm, j-j-just stay calm,” stammered Mr Boil to the students and teachers.

  As William waited in the playground for the all clear, he slipped the book out again and began reading the newly discovered chapter. He was surprised to discover that this chapter talked more about mythical creatures, like dragons and trolls, than of magic. While reading, he learnt that goblins have large ears, giving them excellent hearing. That was why the third spell made such a deafening noise.

  With undivided attention, William continued reading the second chapter, only stopping after a fire-fighter arrived to inform everyone of what had happened.

  “Could I have your attention, please?” said the fire-fighter loudly. “It was just a false alarm, there’s no fire. It’s safe to head back in. One last thing, however, I’d like to speak to the headmaster.”

  “Over here,” answered Mr Boil sheepishly, poking his head out from behind a tree.

  William hadn’t realised that Mr Boil, avoiding his responsibilities as headmaster and man of action, was cowering behind the very tree he was resting against. Thinking it would be interesting to hear what the fire-fighter had to say, William packed his book away and listened intently.

  “Are you aware that we found a woman in the school?” the fire-fighter questioned Mr Boil.

  “A woman?” replied Mr Boil, looking completely dumfounded.

  “Yes, a woman. We’ve called an ambulance to pick her up. She seems to have tripped down the stairs and bumped her head trying to get to the exit. I think she’s one of your teach --”

  “Peebottom!”

  “Did you just call me a pee bottom?” said the fire-fighter angrily.

  “M-me? N-n-no,” stammered Mr Boil. “I-I-I was just referring to the t-t-teacher, Miss Peebottom.”

  The fire-fighter looked suspiciously at Mr Boil.

  “I hope you’ve got a good excuse as to why you forgot her.”

  “W-well, yes, of course I do,” replied Mr Boil, looking worried and desperate for a scapegoat. “It was that student over there.” He pointed accusingly at William. “He was the one who held up the evacuation and caused me to forget about her.”

  “Is that true, son?” the fire-fighter asked William.

  William looked at Mr Boil and noticed him cracking his knuckles in a threatening way. He knew if he didn’t say yes, Mr Boil would definitely keep him on kitchen duty forever.

  “Yes, it’s true, sir,” sighed William.

  “That’s alright, son, everybody makes mistakes,” said the fire-fighter, patting William on the shoulder.

  Mr Boil coughed lightly to bring the fire-fighter’s attention back to him.

  “I guess your waiting for an apology?” asked the fire-fighter.

  “Well, of course,” replied Mr Boil, looking pleased with himself.

  “There’s still no excuse for the amount of incompetence you displayed,” snapped the fire-fighter. “If you forgot about one of your own staff, I’d hate to think what could happen to your students.”

  “But --”

  “I’m not interested in your pathetic excuses. Good day!”

  Mr Boil stood frozen as he watched the fire-fighter storm off towards his fire truck.

  “What are you looking at?!” Mr Boil shouted at William, and promptly stomped off towards the school.

  With his book safely packed away, William headed back inside the school and onward to the dining hall to complete his punishment: cleaning dishes. There was no way he dared skip it, not with Mr Boil being so cross with him.

  Upon opening the creaky doors leading into the hall, William heard a strange snorting noise emanating from within the kitchen.

  “What on earth could that be?” he wondered, worried that his previous spell might have brought back some sort of hideous beast.

  Cautiously, William made his way across the hall and onward to the kitchen’s door. His heart racing, he peeked around the door and looked inside the kitchen. What he saw was so absolutely revolting, he felt instantly like puking. Mrs Dumpling sat hunched over a small dirty table with trays of students’ meals piled so high they almost touched the ceiling. In one hand, she held a large wooden spoon, which she plunged into a bucket filled to the brim with leftover gruel. In the other, she grasped a stale bread roll that quickly found its way down her bottomless stomach. As she slobbered and gobbled this foul menu down, she made satisfied grunting noises. These grunts were the sound William had heard in the dining hall.

  Not wanting to embarrass her, William thought it best to silently slide his head back behind the door and then knock to let her know someone was entering, but just as William was beginning to pull his head in, the door creaked. Immediately, Mrs Dumpling stopped feeding and spun around to face him.

  “Err, hello,” said William, trying not to pay any attention to the dribble of gruel which hung from Mrs Dumpling’s chin. “I’m here to clean the dishes.”

  Mrs Dumpling’s face turned as red as a radish, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from rage.

  “Haven’t you learnt to knock before entering!” she shouted, heaving herself up from the table and waddling over to a cupboard.

  “Sorry, but I forgot,” answered William, knowing better than to mention the snorting noises which had drawn him in.

  “Here,” she said, handing William a dish mop from the cupboard. “Start cleaning!”

  With the dish mop in hand, William headed over to the kitchen’s pot filled sink and began his punishment.

  As William scrubbed a gruel encrusted pot, he noticed a half-eaten Big Boy bar and a small scrunched up piece of paper lying next to the garbage bin. Instantly, he realised the Twins had been in the kitchen. What had they been up to?

  Being curious to find out what was written on the paper and escape the strong sweaty odour that wafted from Mrs Dumpling’s body, William hurriedly cleaned the last of the dishes.

  “Umm … Mrs Dumpling, I’ve finished the last of the dishes … could I go now?” he asked, a tone of desperation in his voice.

  Mrs Dumpling, who had been scoffing down cream cakes during his efforts, looked up with a big fat smile and replied, “You think you’ve really finished?”

  “Well, yes, all the dishes are clean,” answered William, looking a little bit confused.

  With cream all over her month, Mrs Dumpling struggled up and opened a side door to another room.

  “You haven’t even started on this pile yet,” she said with a laugh.

  William’s jaw dropped at the scene that lay before him. There was literally a room overflowing with filthy pots and pans.

  “But -- but -- but,” sputtered William.

  “No buts. Get to work,” snapped Mrs Dumpling.

  Knowing he had no choice, William walked depressingly into the dimly lit room to pick out a pot to clean.

  “While you’re doing that, I’
m going out for a couple of minutes,” called out Mrs Dumpling, wiping the remainder of a chocolate laxative bar from her flabby cheeks, a bar William noticed she had a whole box full of in the cupboard.

  As soon as Mrs Dumpling had left to attend to more private matters, William began pacing up and down the kitchen.

  “This isn’t fair,” he thought angrily. “I wonder if there’s any way I can get out of cleaning all those -- I’ve got it!”

  Quickly, William ran over to his school bag and started rummaging through it. Soon, he had pulled out the book of spells and was flipping through the pages of chapter one.

  “I remember it’s in here somewhere,” he murmured. “Here it is, spells for a bachelor.”

  This was one of the most useful sections in chapter one. It contained all sorts of spells to keep a household clean and tidy, no matter how much of a mess it was in. Luckily for William, it had just the right spell to take care of dirty pots and pans.

  “Well, here it goes,” said William apprehensively, and he cast the spell.

  Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then, out of the corner of his eye, William saw one of the pots shudder, then another and another. It wasn’t just the pots, either. The whole kitchen seemed to come alive!

  “It’s working!” cheered William, as the pots and pans floated over to the sink and were washed by a dancing dish mop.

  Over the noise of clattering dishes, William remembered the piece of paper lying next to the bin.

  “I wonder what those Twins were up to?” he pondered, making his way over to the small bin. “Surely no good, I bet.”

  As William bent down to pick up the tightly scrunched up piece of paper, he was startled by a ruff voice.

  “What’d you think you’re doing?”

  William looked around confused, not knowing where the voice had come from.

  “Down here, elephant ears.”

  William peered down at the grubby bin.

  “Did you say something?” he asked, unsure if he was talking to the correct thing.

  The bin’s lid suddenly flapped open.

  “Yeah, I said something,” it answered irritably. “What’d you think you’re doing?”

  The odour that rose up from the bin’s mouth was absolutely revolting. Pinching his nose, William managed to answer it.

  “Me? Well … I was just about to pickup that piece of paper,” he said, pointing to the paper on the ground.

  “And throw it in me, I hope?” questioned the bin suspiciously.

  “No, I was going to take it with me and read it later --”

  “Hang on there, beetle brain, you’re going to take it out of this room?”

  “Yes, of course,” answered William.

  “Can’t let that happen, frog face. Garbage goes in the garbage bin, and that looks like garbage to me,” said the bin, and it scooped up the piece of paper with its mouth and swallowed it.

  “Hey, I need that!” shouted William, having just about enough of the insulting bin.

  The bin paid no attention to William’s objections and kept its lid firmly shut.

  “I’m warning you,” said William crossly. “Spit that paper out, or I’ll take it by force.”

  The bin still didn’t budge.

  “That’s it! No more mister nice guy,” snapped William, and he jumped on top of the bin to pry its lid open.

  The instant William grabbed onto the bin, it began to bounce around violently, trying to throw him off. It was like riding a bucking bronco. William was smashed against tables, chairs, dishes and trays, but he still held on. After a couple of adrenalin pumped minutes, the bin began to tire and lose the strength to keep its lid firmly shut.

  “Ha! I’ve got you now,” yelled William, successfully prying open the bin’s lid.

  William thrust his arm deep into the bin’s smelly depths and felt around for the tight ball of paper. All the time, the deranged bin continued to jump around feverishly, determined not to lose.

  “Yes,” shouted William, jumping off the bin with the prized paper in his hand.

  The bin sighed. “If I was a couple of years’ younger, hippo hips, I would’ve won.”

  “Sure you would have, bucket brain,” answered William, and he tucked away the paper in his bag.

  During all the excitement, William had completely forgotten something, Mrs Dumpling.

  “Oh no,” panicked William, looking around at the condition of the kitchen. “Mrs Dumpling’s sure to be back any second now. What am I supposed to do?”

  But just then, before his very eyes, the items began magically gliding back to their original places. It wasn’t a minute too soon, either. The sound of Mrs Dumpling’s laboured breathing could be heard. She was in the dining hall!

  Frantically, William ran over to where he last left the magic book and flipped through the pages, looking for the spell to un-enchant the kitchen before Mrs Dumpling waddled in.

  “C’mon, it’s gotta be in here,” he said tensely, as the breathing got louder and louder. “Yes! Here it is.”

  As fast as his lips could move, William said the spell. He then dived over to his bag and rammed the book inside. The very next second, Mrs Dumpling barged into the room.

  “Get back to cleaning the --” She paused and looked at the huge pile of shimmering dishes resting next to the sink. “It’s impossible. You couldn’t have cleaned all those dishes?”

  “Yep, it was hard work, but I managed to pull it off,” answered William, trying to look calm and collected as if nothing special had just happened.

  Mrs Dumpling shuffled around the kitchen and examined each pot. Finally, she looked up at William.

  “OK then,” she said irritably, frustrated by his unbelievable results, “get outta here.”

  Hastily, William left the kitchen.

  After a quick walk through the school’s hallways and up a spiral staircase, William had arrived at his dormitory room.

  “Ah, finally, a place of tranquillity,” he said to himself, opening the door of the shoebox sized room.

  As soon as he was inside, William threw his bag onto his small wooden bed and went to peer out of the window. It was dark and windy. Suddenly, a piece of paper flew past the window.

  “The paper in the kitchen,” remembered William. “How could I forget?”

  William hurried over to his bag and rummaged through it. Soon, he had pulled out the ball of paper he was searching for.

  “Those no good Twins, I wonder what they were planning?” he pondered, unravelling the scrunched up paper.

  He stared down at the badly written note and read:

  The Big Plan -- Code Named: Worm Pie

  1. Go into kitchen and steal meat pie

  2. Find worms in garden

  3. Fill pie with worms

  4. Make bookworm think we are his friends on fieldtrip

  5. Get him to eat worm pie

  6. Laugh in bookworm’s face

  William grinned. “So, that’s why they were in the kitchen. Well, I’ll have to come up with a plan of my own, just to teach them a lesson.”

  His mind already filling with ideas, William rushed back over to his bag and pulled out a pen and paper. In a couple minutes, he had written up a devious plan of his own, a plan which the Twins would never suspect.

  “This’ll teach them,” he yawned, reading the plan back to himself.

  Once he had filed the plan away into a drawer, William glanced towards the book of spells poking out of his bag. He was tempted to pick it up and begin reading the next chapter, but he decided to finish it off the following night. He was too tired right now.

  After sliding his bag off his bed, William crawled under its itchy woollen sheets and fell fast asleep, the thoughts of tomorrow bringing a cheeky grin to his face.