The New Kid at School Read Free

never be a hero.
    On a big, flat rock halfway across, Wiglaf stopped. He put Daisy down and searched the swamp to see how far they still had to go.
    “Daisy!” Wiglaf cried. “A pointed hat is sinking in the quicksand! And look! There is a head beneath the hat!”
    Daisy squealed in alarm.
    Wiglaf cupped his hands to his mouth. “Stay where you are!” he shouted to the head. “I shall save you!”
    Wiglaf grabbed the rope from his pack. His heart thumped. He never thought that he would be a hero this soon! But before he could throw the rope, the hat and head started to rise.
    Wiglaf watched, amazed, as a man with a long white beard floated up, out of the sand. He wore a wide-sleeved blue robe dotted with silver stars. He glided over the quicksand toward Wiglaf and Daisy.
    Now Daisy squealed in fright.
    The man came to a stop in front of Wiglaf. “Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy me?” he grumbled. “And turn off that pig!”
    Instantly, Daisy stopped squealing.
    “I am sorry,” Wiglaf managed. “Are—are you a wizard?”
    “No, I’m a fairy princess!” the man snapped. “Of course I’m a wizard. You know anyone else who wears a long blue robe with stars on it? I don’t think so. Zelnoc’s the name,” he went on. “And your name is...wait.” The wizard squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t tell me. It’s coming. Ah! I have it. Wigwam! No...Waglump!”

    “Close,” Wiglaf said. “I am Wiglaf. And this is my pig, Daisy.”
    “Charmed.” The wizard gave a little wave. “Now, Wuglop, what was all that yelling about? And what’s with the rope?”
    “I was going to rescue you from the quicksand,” Wiglaf explained.
    Zelnoc shook his head. “Do you know nothing of wizards, my boy? I wasn’t sinking. I was in for repairs. This part of the swamp is known as Wizards’ Bog. The quicksand here has strong powers. You see, sometimes my spells go wrong....” He shrugged. “It’s not your problem. So tell me. What are you doing out here in the middle of Nowhere?”
    “I am on my way to Dragon Slayers’ Academy,” Wiglaf said proudly.
    “You’re kidding!” Zelnoc exclaimed. “You are a dragon slayer?”
    “Not yet,” Wiglaf admitted. “But a minstrel told my fortune. He said that I was born to be a hero. And heroes slay dragons, do they not?”
    “Some do, I suppose,” the wizard said. “Well, I wish you luck, Wicklamp. And speaking of wishes, what’ll it be?”
    “I beg your pardon?” Wiglaf said.
    “Your wish!” Zelnoc repeated. “You did interrupt me, it’s true. But you meant well. And Wizard Rule Number 364 says every good deed must be rewarded. So wish away, Wigloop. But make it snappy. I haven’t got all day.”
    “All right,” Wiglaf agreed. “I wish for... seven pennies!”
    Zelnoc shook his head. “Sorry, kid. Wizards never carry cash.”
    “I see.” Wiglaf thought for a moment. Then he said, “How about a suit of armor?”
    “No, no, no,” the wizard scolded. “Only knights wear armor!”
    Wiglaf sighed. “What should I wish for?”
    “A sword,” Zelnoc told him.
    “All right,” said Wiglaf. “I wish for a sword.”
    “An excellent choice!” exclaimed the wizard. “And have I got a sword for you!”
    Zelnoc reached up his left sleeve and pulled out a stumpy metal blade. It was badly bent, dented, and covered with rust.
    “This is Surekill,” Zelnoc said. “It was made for dragon slaying. It has great power.”
    “Oh, is it a magic sword?” Wiglaf asked hopefully.
    “Would I give you any other kind?” Zelnoc rolled his eyes. “Now, here’s what you do. Point Surekill at your enemy and say...” The wizard frowned. “What is it, now? ‘Surekill, go get ’em!‘? No... ’Surekill, do your thing!‘? No. But it’s something like that. Anyway, when you do get it right, Surekill will leap from your hand and obey.”
    “Uh...thank you,” Wiglaf said, taking the weapon and tucking it into his belt. He supposed a rusty, dented sword