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Authors: Kate McMullan

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BOOK: Wheel of Misfortune
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“Bragwort keeps ringing the bell so he can answer questions,” Erica put in. “But he doesn’t know the answers.”
Zelnoc brightened. “I could put my famous no-bell ringing spell on him,” the wizard said. “I won an award for inventing that spell. Yes, sir, my fellow enchanters gave me the No-Bell Prize.” Zelnoc smiled at the memory. Then he shook his head. “But this Bragwort might still call out answers.”
“He
would
call out,” Angus said. “That is so like him.”
Erica nodded. “He is such a know-it-all.”
“A know-it-all!” said Zelnoc. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ve got just the thing! Now where do I find this boy?”
“What boy?” came a voice from the door of Suite D. There stood Bragwort holding a bag from the KNC School Store.
“Do you answer to the name of Bragwort?” asked Zelnoc.
“So, you have heard of me.” Bragwort smiled. “Is it because of my sky-high score on the S.A.T.-M.E.? Or because of my boldness here at the brain-power tournament?”
“Never mind how,” said Zelnoc. He aimed his wand at Bragwort, and began to sing:
“Do, re, me, fa, sol, la, ti!
Wise as an owl you wish to be.
Ti, la, sol, fa, me, re, do!
Wise as an owl, it shall be so.”
A small puff of smoke spurted from the tip of Zelnoc’s wand.
Bragwort simply stared at the wizard. For once he seemed to have nothing to say.
“That’s it?” Erica asked the wizard.
“Short and simple,” said Zelnoc. “But very effective.” He turned to Wiglaf. “I’ve got to get back to Zizmor’s seminar now. I was right in the middle of reading a very interesting mind. Hope I can find my place. Ta-ta, Woglip.”
“Wait, wizard!” Erica cried. “If Bragwort knows all, then we shall win, but not by fair play!”
Wiglaf sighed. Sometimes Erica took rules far too seriously.
But Zelnoc had begun to spin. He spun faster and faster.
Then-poof!
He vanished in a burst of yellow smoke.
“Rats!” Erica exclaimed. “He never even answered me.”
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“The wizard,” said Erica.
“Zelnoc always makes a fast getaway,” Angus observed.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“Zelnoc!” said Erica, sounding annoyed.
Wiglaf stared at Bragwort. He did not look any different since Zelnoc had put the spell on him. But Wiglaf was beginning to think that maybe he had changed in some small way.
“Bragwort?” said Wiglaf. “How do you feel?”
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“You,” said Wiglaf.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“Uh-oh,” said Wiglaf.
Chapter 8
W
iglaf, Angus, and Erica stared at Bragwort.
Bragwort did not seem to notice. He busied himself putting on his new red-and-white souvenir tunic.
“You look very nice in it, Bragwort,” Angus told him.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“You,” said Angus.
“Bragwort,” said Erica, “can you say anything besides ‘who?’”
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“Oh, jester’s bells!” Erica exclaimed. “Bragwort isn’t as wise as an owl. He only sounds like an owl!” She turned to Wiglaf. “Summon that no-good wizard again,” she growled. “And fast!”
“Conlez! Conlez! Conlez!” said Wiglaf.
Nothing happened.
“Conlez! Conlez! Conlez!” cried Angus.
No wizard appeared.
“Rats!” said Erica. “He must have turned off his summoner. Wizards aren’t supposed to do that.”
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“The wiz—Oh, will you stop it, Bragwort?” Erica cried.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“YOU!” cried Erica. “Stop talking!”
“Woe is us!” Angus wailed. “How can we be in the tournament tomorrow with Bragwort saying nothing but who, who, who?”
Wiglaf flopped down on his cot.
“Ow!” he cried. He had forgotten that the bed was stone. Sometimes he wished he had never met Zelnoc.
There was nothing to do but get some sleep. But even that was hard with Bragwort
who who whooing
all night long.
The next morning the DSA team nibbled a few crusts of eel toast for breakfast. Then they found Brother Dave outside the Sword-in-the-Stone Gym.
“Brother Dave!” cried Angus. “We are in big trouble.”
And he told the DSA librarian their latest tale of woe.
Brother Dave looked at Bragwort through his small, round glasses. “What does thou sayeth, Bragwort?” he asked.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“Thou,” said Brother Dave.
“Who?” said Bragwort.
“Oh, my,” said Brother Dave. “Thou dost have a problem.”
“If only Bragwort hadn’t hogged the bell,” Erica said. “Then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“If only Bragwort hadn’t answered the question on the back of the wheel,” said Angus.
Wiglaf sighed. “If only Zelnoc hadn’t messed up his spell.”
“Oh, my fine lads,” said Brother Dave, shaking his head. “Folks say, ‘If wishes were horses then beggars would ride.’ ‘If,’ indeed! Wishes are not horses. Thou must not pin thy hopes on if, if, if. But thou are smart lads. And good thinking shall serve thee well in the end. Count on what thou knowest! Never give up hope. And remember: ‘if’ meaneth nothing!”
Wiglaf tried to be hopeful as he followed his teammates into the gym. There was not an empty seat in the place—except for the whole DSA section. The DSA team owed 1,000 points. The DSA team captain could say only, “Who?”
At least, thought Wiglaf as he took his seat upon the stage,
things could hardly get worse.
“Welcome to day two of the Brain-Power Tournament,” said Sir Verm. “As you can see from the scoreboard, Knights Noble Conservatory is ahead. And, as usual, the other teams are behind.” Sir Verm turned the stage over to Harkbert.
“All right, knights,” Harkbert said. “Bring in the wheel with today’s question categories.”
The knights stepped forward with the wheel.
A murmur rose from the crowd.
Sir Verm’s eyes bugged out as he stared at the wheel.
Wiglaf’s eyes widened, too. For the categories were a bit more down-to-earth today. They were: SIR LANCELOT, DRAGON STATS, JOLISTING, FINE DINING, WASHING DISHES, and CABBAGE FARMING. Wiglaf smiled. He was an expert in two out of six of the categories. If only he could get a turn.... He stopped himself. He thought about Brother Dave’s little talk. He must not count on ‘if.’ He must simply lunge for the bell!
“Zounds!” Sir Verm exclaimed. “What categories are these?” He frowned at the knights. “I had fixed it so that... I mean, I had fixed my hopes on
other
categories. The more usual categories, if you see what I mean.”
“We picked these categories from the category box this morning, sir,” the red knight told the headmaster. “The monk there—” he nodded toward Brother Dave “—happened to be backstage when we were picking the categories, if you see what I mean, sir.”
Sir Verm frowned. He shot Brother Dave a dirty look. But he said nothing.
Brother Dave only smiled and raised his eyes heavenward.
Wiglaf thought it very lucky indeed that Brother Dave had been backstage at just the right moment.
The white knight handed Harkbert the answer sheets.
The KNC headmaster managed to sit down.
“Chauncy,” said Harkbert, “spin the wheel.”
Chauncy spun it.
It stopped on CABBAGE FARMING.
Wiglaf got ready to lunge in case KNC missed.
“For ten points,” said Harkbert, “what do you call the tool used for breaking up soil clods before planting cabbage seeds?”
Chauncy wrinkled his nose. “What are soil clods?”
“Can you answer the question, Chauncy?” asked Harkbert.
“About cabbage farming?” Chauncy said. “I don’t think so.”
Otto blew his whistle: TOOT!
“The question is open to other teams,” said Harkbert.
Wiglaf dove for the bell.
But Bragwort beat him to it.
DING!
“Who!” cried Bragwort.
Harkbert scowled. “Let me hear that answer again.»
Erica leaped up and ran to Bragwort’s side. Her hand quickly flew to Bragwort’s mouth. She was trying to silence him. But as her hand clamped down over his mouth, Bragwort managed to shout out, “Wh-oh!”
“Correct,” said Harkbert. “The answer is
hoe.”
Wiglaf watched the page hang a new score on the board for DSA: U.O. 990.
It was hardly a winning score. But it was a start. Wiglaf slapped hands with Erica as she sat down on the bench again.
Now Brother Dave stood up. He cupped his hands to his mouth and said loudly,
Go thou, DSA,
Fair school of fair play,
Thou shalt answer well today,
Go thou DSA!
Wiglaf grinned. Brother Dave was cheering them on!
“Next question to DSA,” said Harkbert. “For twenty points, what do you call a single cabbage plant?”
Angus grabbed Bragwort’s hands as Wiglaf dove for the bell. He hit it an instant before Bragwort wiggled out of Angus’s grip.
DING!
“A head of cabbage!” Wiglaf cried.
“Correct,” said Harkbert.
“Who, who, whooo,” Bragwort whimpered.
Wiglaf hoped that Angus could hold on to Bragwort.
“For thirty points,” said Harkbert, “what causes dark spots to appear on cabbage leaves?”
“Cabbage mold!” said Wiglaf.
“Correct!” said Harkbert.
Wiglaf grinned. He remembered reading the passage in the S.A.T.-M.E. Maybe mold was his friend after all!
“For forty points,” said Harkbert, “name the three main uses for cabbages.”
“Cabbage soup, cabbage dumplings, and cole slaw!” cried Wiglaf.
“Yahoo!” cried Angus. “Go Wiggie!”
For the last, fifty-point question in the cabbage-farming category, Wiglaf named the spot where the world’s biggest cabbage was grown: his own hometown, Pinwick. He earned 140 points in all for his team. The DSA score was now U.O. 850. Wiglaf got to spin the wheel for the next category. The arrow landed on FINE DINING.
“For ten points,” said Harkbert, “name a food that begins with the letter C.”
Angus hit the bell. “Chocolate!” he cried.
“Correct,” said Harkbert. “Ten points for DSA.”
“No fair!” whined Delauncy. “We’re not getting our turn!”
All at once Otto banged his gong.
BONG!
“There’s the bonus gong,” said Harkbert. “DSA, for 500 points, name three desserts made with the ingredient just named!”
Angus grinned. “Chocolate pudding,” he said.
“That’s one,” said Harkbert.
“Chocolate-chip cookies,” said Angus.
“That’s two,” said Harkbert.
“And,” said Angus, “devil’s food cake!”
“That’s three!” said Harkbert.
DSA owed only 340 points now. Hope sprang up in Wiglaf’s heart. Maybe there was a chance for their team after all.
“Go, Angus!” Erica cried.
Angus did, indeed, go. He answered every question in the FINE DINING category. He brought the DSA score down to U.O. 200. When he spun the wheel again, it landed on SIR LANCELOT.
“That’s more like it!” cried the whole KNC team.
Harkbert cleared his throat and said, “What is the most unusual feature of Sir Lancelot’s armor?”
Erica quickly hit the bell.
But Chauncy sprang to his feet. “The extra flaps over his kneecaps,” he yelled.
“Wrong,” said Harkbert. “And you were out of turn, Chauncy.”
Sir Verm stood. “It was a new category, Harkbert,” the KNC headmaster said. “I think it’s high time my boys were back in the game.”
“Then they must get back in fair and square,” said Harkbert. He nodded to Erica. “I shall repeat the question. What is the most unusual feature of Sir Lancelot’s armor?”
“A tiny bud vase just above his heart,” Erica said. “In it he puts the violet bouquets that damsels give to him.”
“Correct,” said Harkbert. “For twenty points, what is Sir Lancelot’s full name?”
Again Erica hit the bell. “Lancelot du Lac,” she said. “It means ‘of the lake.’”
“Everybody knows that,” grumbled Chauncy.
“For thirty points,” said Harkbert, “what is the name of Sir Lancelot’s twin brother?”
Erica rang the bell. “Leon!”
Erica answered every Sir Lancelot question. Now the DSA score was U.O. 50. Erica spun the wheel. It landed on WASHING DISHES.
“For ten points,” said Harkbert, “put these words in the correct order: rinse, dry, wash.”
Now Wiglaf sprang forward and rang the bell. “Wash, rinse, dry!” he said.
“Correct,” said Harkbert. “For twenty points, what do you call the soapy bubbles in a dish pan?”
“Suds!” cried Wiglaf.
“Huh?” said Chauncy. “What’s suds?”
Launcy, Flauncy and Delauncy only shrugged.
BOOK: Wheel of Misfortune
10.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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