Wheel of Misfortune Read Online Free PDF Page B

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