Authors: Kate McMullan

Never Trust a Troll! (6 page)

BOOK: Never Trust a Troll!

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Water droplets ran down Wiglaf’s cheeks and neck. His carrot-colored hair was soaking wet and stuck to his head. He was miserable.

“A water dragon,” said Professor Pluck, “can drain a moat faster than you can say ‘
P
eter
P
iper
p
icked a
p
eck of
p
ickles
p
e
pp
ers.’ ”

As Professor Pluck sputtered on about water dragons, Wiglaf heard a familiar sound: “Guh-huh! Guh-huh! Guh-huh!”

“Grock!” he whispered. “Where are you?”

“Right by ye, buddy,” Grock growled. “Ye looks funny all wet.”

Suddenly a burst of sparks erupted next to Wiglaf.

“Yaaaaaah!” came the troll’s voice as more sparks flew. “Ouchie!”

“
P
rince
P
eter’s
p
laid
p
ants!” exclaimed Professor Pluck.

“’Tis a bad omen!” cried Torblad. “We are doomed!”

Now Wiglaf understood what was happening. Somehow Grock had found Dudwin’s magic cap of invisibility!

Sparks shot in all directions.

“Yahhhh!” yelled Grock. “Owww! Hurts me!”

“Say ‘Zappity Zip,’ Grock!” called Dudwin.

“Zap-owie!” cried the troll.

One big green many-toed foot appeared. Then it vanished. The troll’s other foot appeared, and disappeared. The troll’s belly began to flash on and off.

The students in Dragon Science were laughing their heads off.

A huge explosion of sparks lit the science lab.

“Owwwwwie!” squealed Grock.

Wiglaf couldn’t see Grock, but he could smell that strong, spicy scared-troll smell again. It made him sneeze.

Grock’s arm flashed into being, and stayed visible. And when the troll’s big head appeared, Wiglaf knew what to do. He grabbed the cap and pulled it off Grock’s head.

“That was great, Grock!” called Bilge.

“Yeah!” called Maggot.

“What a show!” called Aggie.

Dudwin jumped to his feet and clapped.

Grock grinned and took a bow. Then he turned to Wiglaf.

“Give me cap back, buddy,” he said. “It’s mine.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Wiglaf as the cap shot its last few sparks.

“I don’t want it,” said Dudwin. “Grock can have it.”

“
P
upils,
p
lease!” sputtered Professor Pluck. “Sto
p
! Let me s
p
eak.”

But before Professor Pluck could sputter another word, the door to his classroom flew open and a large duck waddled in.

“’Tis Duckie McScales come for revenge!” screamed Torblad.

“Nah,” said the duck. “’Tis only me, Yorick.”

Mordred’s scout, Yorick, was the master of disguise. He traveled around and heard things and saw things. He brought what he learned back to DSA.

Now Yorick ripped off his duckbill and his feathered headdress.

“Gets bloody hot under these feathers,” he said. “I have news!”

“
P
ray, tell!” said Professor Pluck.

“I have waddled far and near,” said Yorick. “I have paddled upstream and down. I have swum in lakes, ponds, and puddles.”

Wiglaf knew if Mordred were there, he would have shouted, “Get to the point, man!”

But Mordred wasn’t there, so Yorick rambled on for quite a while before he said, “And every tree by every stream and creek and lake and river, is marked with the letter
B
.”

“Bubbles!” cried Dudwin. “That’s his sign!”

“Aye,” said Yorick. “And Bubbles is swimming this way. Heading straight for Dragon Slayers’ Academy.”

Grock ran to the slit in the castle wall and looked down.

“Bubbles is in the moat!” he shouted. “He’s here!”

“Do you see Bubbles, Grock?” Wiglaf called. “Or is this another joke?”

“Bubbles in the moat!” cried the troll. “Honest!”

Wiglaf didn’t trust Grock one bit. But now he heard wild splashing and yelling from below. Maybe this time, the troll was telling the truth.

Chapter 8

“D
ragon in the moat!” Mordred shouted from the castle yard below. “To arms, lads and lasses! To arms!”

“To the moat!” cried Erica. “We shall vanquish this dragon!”

All the lads and lasses raced from Professor Pluck’s classroom.

“
P
lease
p
ut the
p
archments in a
p
ile as you de
p
art!” Professor Pluck sputtered after them.

“I’ll stick with ye, buddy,” said Grock as they ran down the spiraling stairs, through the castle hallways, and out into the castle yard.

Wiglaf caught a whiff of the troll’s strong, spicy odor.

“Slay the dragon and get his gold!” Mordred instructed them as they ran across the castle yard. “I’ll be watching from my office.”

With that, the headmaster ran up the castle steps and out of sight.

The lads and lasses raced over the drawbridge. Coach Plungett stood at the foot of it.

“Remember the Throat Thrust!” he coached. “I don’t see Bubbles,” said Angus as they took their places beside the moat.

“Me either,” said Dudwin.

“Maybe he’s hiding in the part of the moat hidden behind the castle,” said Wiglaf.

“Shall we rush him?” asked Janice.

“Yeah!” said Maggot and Bilge.

“No!” said Erica. “Let Bubbles swim out and see the band of mighty warriors who await him.”

“Good idea,” said Wiglaf. “Where are they?”

“
We
are the mighty warriors, Wiggie,” said Erica.

Grock stood next to Wiglaf. For a change, he was silent.

Wiglaf turned to him. The troll looked nervous. And the air was filled with his spicy scent.

“What’s wrong, Grock?” asked Wiglaf.

“Nothing, buddy,” said Grock.

Now Sir Mort came tottering over the drawbridge. He held a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, ready to confuse Bubbles with the switcheroo. The old knight’s visor was down. Wiglaf wondered whether he could see, for he was tottering badly.

“Back off, lads and lasses!” shouted Sir Mort. “Make way for a real knight to fight his old foe!”

Then Sir Mort took a wrong step, and toppled into the moat. Armored as he was, he sank fast.

“We’ll save you!” cried Wiglaf. He leaped into the moat. So did Erica, Angus, Janice, and Dudwin. Together, they managed to pull Sir Mort up.

Coach Plungett took the old knight and laid him down on the grass.

“Get his armor off,” said Coach.

Erica wrested off his helmet. Wiglaf unbuckled his breastplate. Angus took off his armored sleeves. Erica held Sir Mort’s armored boots while Janice pulled off his leg armor. Sir Mort looked very small lying there in his red long underwear. At last he opened his eyes and said, “Ah, the old switcheroo. Works every time.”

“I’ll take him inside to dry off,” Coach said. He slung Sir Mort over his shoulder and hurried to the castle.

“I think I see Bubbles!” someone yelled.

“Yes! Yes! There he is!” others shouted.

Wiglaf caught sight of Grock running away from the moat. The troll ducked behind a large rock to hide.

Wiglaf ran after him. “What’s wrong, Grock?” he asked. “Don’t you want to fight the dragon with us?”

“Busy right now, buddy,” called Grock from behind the rock.

Once more the scared-troll spicy odor made Wiglaf sneeze. He turned back to the moat just in time to see a shiny blue dragon swim out from behind the castle.

Bubbles.

Wiglaf was surprised that he was so small-not much bigger than Daisy! He had a friendly smile on his face. The red horn on top of his head was tooting a peppy tune.

Wiglaf ran back and joined the others standing beside the moat.

“I told you Bubbles wasn’t scary, Wiggie,” said Dudwin. “Look at him!”

“He doesn’t
look
scary,” Wiglaf admitted. “But looks aren’t everything, Dud.”

“Hallo, lads and lasses!” Bubbles called out. “Thank you all for coming out to greet me!”

“We are not here to greet you, Bubbles!” shouted Erica.

“We are here to slay you!” cried Janice.

“Yeah!” cried Bilge and Maggot.

“Don’t be silly,” said Bubbles. “I mean you no harm. I only want to settle an old score with one of your teachers, that’s all.”

Bubbles swam as he spoke. As he came closer, Wiglaf saw that the dragon wore a gold chain around his neck. Hanging from the chain was a golden letter
B
. It glittered against the dragon’s blue scales.

“Want to see something great?” asked Bubbles, blinking his bright blue eyes. “Watch this.”

Bubbles flipped over onto his back. He stuck one webbed foot up into the air and pointed his claws. Then his leg sank slowly until the claws disappeared. The moat water bubbled like crazy.

Suddenly, Bubbles burst up out of the water, spinning like a top. He stopped spinning, and cried, “Tah-dah!”

“That was super!” called Bilge.

“Yeah!” called Maggot.

“Do it again!” called Dudwin, clapping.

“Class I!” yelled Erica. “Do not be fooled! Bubbles is dangerous!”

“Oh, come on,” said Aggie. “Look at him. He’s cute!”

Bubbles smiled and blinked his big blue eyes. “Want to see more?”

“Yes!” cried the Class I lads and lasses.

“More!” cried Grock, running out from behind the rock. “More, dragon!” He ran to the edge of the moat.

Bubbles sniffed and wrinkled his nose, as if he smelled something he didn’t like. Then he dove under the water and came up again some distance away from Grock.

“Here I go!” called Bubbles. “Watch this!”

The dragon swam in a circle, fluttering one wing over the water. He did a porpoise dive and disappeared. Then he came up again, feet first, laying himself calmly on top of the water. Next, he began twisting and turning and flipping like a seal.

Wiglaf had to admit that Bubbles had talent. He began to wonder-was Bubbles really dangerous?

When the dragon finished his water ballet, he swam to the edge of the moat closest to Erica.

“You seem to be in charge here, lass,” he said.

“You got that right, Bubbles!” said Erica.

“Then will you be so kind as to ask Sir Trom to come out here for a moment?” he asked.

“Bubbles,” said Erica. “You have two choices. You can go away and never come back. Or we can slay you. You decide.”

Bubbles smiled. “No. YOU have two choices,” he said. “You can go and get Sir Trom, or—”

Erica cut him off. “Never!” she cried.

“Have it your way, lass,” said Bubbles.

The dragon dipped his mouth into the moat.

Wiglaf heard a loud sucking sound. The water in the moat began to get shallower and shallower. Eels started jumping all over the place.

As the level of the water in the moat went down, Bubbles’s body grew bigger and bigger. His head looked small now on top of his great, bloated belly.

“Yahhhh!” cried Grock as the dragon expanded. He ran back to his hiding place behind the rock.

Bubbles grew to an enormous size. When he had sucked nearly all the water out of the moat, Professor Pluck stuck his head out of the slit in the castle wall. He shouted, “
P
eter
P
iper
p
icked a
p
eck of
p
ickled
p
eppers!”

Bubbles raised his head. Now he was almost as huge as the DSA castle.

“GET SIR TROM!” Bubbles bellowed. “OR GET YOUR SURFBOARDS—YOU DECIDE!”

Chapter 9

“H
old it! Hold it!” Mordred came running down the drawbridge. “Don’t go flooding my school, Bubbles. Let’s talk!”

“WHO ARE YOU?” asked Bubbles.

“Mordred de Marvelous,” said Mordred. “Headmaster of Dragon Sla—errr, this school. This fellow you call Sir Trom is one of my teachers.”

“SEND SIR TROM OUT NOW!” Bubbles shouted. “OR MEET A WATERY DOOM!”

“Sir Mort—er, Sir Trom—has had an unfortunate accident,” said Mordred. “Fell into the moat and knocked himself out.”

“BRING HIM TO ME,” said Bubbles.

“I could do that,” said Mordred. “If you promise not to send a tidal wave over my castle.”