Free The Sword in the Grotto by Angie Sage Page A

I didn’t know why she was bothering, but Wanda likes boring old stuff—which is why she likes Sir Horace, I suppose. Anyway, suddenly Wanda snorted like a pig inhaling its food and started rolling around the floor. I didn’t take any notice, as I know that this is Wanda’s way of laughing. So I let her do her pig impression for a bit, and then I asked her what was so funny.
    â€œOink oink oink,” snorted Wanda, “oh, oink !”
    â€œOh, come on, Wanda. Tell me.”
    Wanda shoved a funny old book into my hands. “Shirley,” she snorted. “Oink oink. Shirley !”
    Inside the book was an old piece of paper with a picture someone had drawn of a cute baby lying on a rug. Underneath the picture was some spidery writing. It was not very easy to read.
    â€œGo on… oink ,” snorted Wanda. “Read it.”
    â€œEr…‘Horace Cuthbert Shirley George, age foure monthe,’” I read out. “Their spelling was terrible in the old days, wasn’t it?”
    â€œNot as bad as yours,” oinked Wanda. “See? He’s called Shirley .”
    â€œWell, maybe his mom wanted a girl orsomething. Anyway, I think he looks sweet. But that can’t be Sir Horace. He was never a baby.”

    Wanda managed to sit up. “Everyone was a baby once,” she said. “Even my dad was a baby once, although that was ages ago. Probably about the same time as when Sir Horace was a baby.”
    â€œYour dad may be old, but I don’t think he’s nearly five hundred years old,” I said, staring at the date in the book.
    â€œHe might be,” Wanda said. “I wouldn’t be surprised. What are you doing?”
    â€œCounting,” I told her. Math is not one of my best subjects, and I was counting up on my fingers to make sure I had it right. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred…Hey it was right—the day after tomorrow it will be five hundred years exactlysince Sir Horace was born!
    â€œThe day after tomorrow is Sir Horace’s birthday,” I said. “His five-hundredth birthday.”
    Wanda whistled. “That’s a big birthday.”
    â€œThe biggest birthday ever,” I said. “I mean, who else do you know who has had a five-hundredth birthday?”
    Wanda thought for a while and then she said, “I don’t think I know anyone. That is so old. Hey—that’s why he’s sulking. My dad did that last year. He had what Mom called a big birthday, and he got really funny the week before. He turned all his frogs blue and he wouldn’t talk to anyone. But he cheered up at his surprise birthday party. He was fine after that.”
    I finished eating my cheese and onion chips, and then suddenly I had a Plan. “Problemsolved,” I said. “We’ll give Sir Horace a surprise five-hundredth birthday party, and then he’ll be fine too.”
    Wanda smiled. I could see she was impressed with my brilliant Plan. And then she stopped smiling and said, “But we don’t know where he is. You have to know where someone is if you want to give him a surprise party. Otherwise you end up having a party and he’s not there to be surprised. And then it’s not a surprise party; it’s just a—”
    â€œAll right, all right ,” I said. “I get the point.”
    Trust Wanda to make things difficult.

2
THUD
    â€œS ir Horace will soon come out of wherever he’s hiding when he hears he’s having a surprise party,” I told Wanda. We were on our way down to the third-kitchen-on-the-left-just-past-the-boiler-room to check out the party food situation.
    â€œIt won’t be a surprise if he hears about it,” said Wanda. She is what my Uncle Drac calls “pedantic.” I am not sure what that means,but it sounds about right for Wanda, if you ask me. Plus you can add picky to that.
    â€œAnyway, we don’t have to have a surprise