Free School's Out...Forever! by Kate McMullan Page B

started up the stairs to Mordred’s office.
    â€œI’ll bet you anything, he says no,” said Angus.
    â€œWill you bet your stash?” asked Wiglaf, who was still hungry from missing lunch.
    Angus gasped. “My stash?” Each month his mother sent him a fine chest of goodies, which he kept hidden in a secret place. He never shared if he could help it. “Not a chance.”
    When the lads reached Mordred’s office, they heard voices inside. Suddenly, the office door swung open.
    â€œFarewell, Sir Fuzzydice!” Mordred clapped a white-haired man on the back. “After the graduation ceremony, we shall carry out our plans.”
    Ceremony?
Wiglaf glanced at Angus as Sir Fuzzydice hurried off down the hallway. DSA had never had a graduation ceremony before.
    Angus only shrugged.
    Now Mordred spied the lads. “Egad, students!” he cried. “What do you want?”
    â€œI must ask you, sir…,” Wiglaf began.
    â€œSpit it out!” cried Mordred, his face turning red.
    â€œSome of us in Class II…,” Wiglaf went on.
    â€œSay it!” The headmaster’s violet eyes bulged from their sockets.
    â€œâ€¦wish to go on a quest, sir,” Wiglaf finished.
    â€œIs THAT all?” thundered Mordred. “Blazing King Ken’s britches, GO!”
    â€œExcuse me, Uncle,” said Angus, “but did you say something about graduation?”
    â€œAh, graduation day!” Mordred’s red face faded to pink. His eyes popped back into their sockets. “Yes…the sooner the better.”
    â€œAre we to have festivities this year?” Angus asked eagerly.
    â€œNone of your beeswax!” bellowed Mordred. “Go on your quest! And take every little rotter you can round up with you. Go, GO,
GO
!”

Chapter 2
    T he next morning, Wiglaf rolled up his thin blanket and tied a rope around it. He was packed! Then he stuck his sword, Surekill, in his belt, breakfasted on eel porridge, and stopped by the henhouse to tell Daisy about the quest.
    â€œOod-gay uck-lay!
” said his pig.
    Back in the castle yard, Wiglaf found Janice waiting beside the slightly-less-greasy eel cauldron.
    â€œFrypot gave us food for our travels,” she called, holding up a bag that smelled strongly of eel.
    Erica was sitting on the scrubbing block, scowling down at a letter.
    At last she looked up. “My uncle Homer and aunt Marge, who rule Palmlandia, are visiting my parents,” she said. “And my horrid cousin, Rex, is with them because his parents want to send him to school here at DSA!”
    â€œHow horrid is he?” asked Wiglaf.
    â€œOn his last visit, he rode my bloodhound Rufus around the palace like a pony,” said Erica. “He smashed everything in his path, including my Sir Lancelot piggy bank.”
    Wiglaf thought Rex sounded a lot like his brothers. Their favorite pastime was banging their heads on the table—hard!
    Erica stuck the letter into her pack and pulled out a map. “’Tis a two-day hike to Fire-Breathers’ Lair,” she said. “Where is Angus? We must be off!”
    â€œReady!” called Angus, who came out of the castle carrying an enormous pack.
    Just then, Wiglaf spied his younger brother Dudwin racing toward them. Dudwin was a stout, yellow-haired lad and already taller than Wiglaf.
    â€œWiggie!” said Dudwin when he reached him. “Where are you going?”
    â€œOn a quest to find Worm.” Wiglaf sniffed. “You smell fishy, Dud.”
    â€œI went skinny-dipping in the moat.” Dudwin grinned. “I want to go on your quest!”
    â€œAll right,” said Wiglaf, remembering Mordred’s order to take along every little rotter.
    Dudwin pounded his chest with his fist and gave a loud thank-you burp.
    â€œYuck!” said Erica. “Give your blanket to your stinky brother, Wiggie. You can use my extra one. Now let us be off!”
    In the morning