Mayhem at Magic School

by George Ivanoff

  Then the three of them head off to the next class, leaving you standing there, watching them. You shake your head and follow.

  But do you join their magic club?

  If you want to find out what it’s all about, go here.

  But if you’ve had enough magic for one day, you can spend lunchtime on your own. Go here.

  Yes!

  There is no doubt in your mind – you want to join this government organisation and become a spy. It sounds so unbelievably cool!

  ‘Good choice,’ says Agent Mallory. ‘I don’t think you would have cared for the alternative.’

  You feel a chill climb up your spine.

  Agent Mallory passes you a computer tablet. You look at it and read ‘Non-disclosure Agreement’. You scroll through the seemingly endless text beneath the heading.

  ‘Standard agreement,’ explains Agent Mallory. ‘You need to sign it before we can bring you into the fold. Don’t bother reading it. Just skip to the bottom and sign.’ She hands you a stylus. ‘It’s full of legal jargon, most of which even I can’t comprehend. But basically it says you promise not to tell anyone anything about the agency or your work. And that if you do, you waive all rights, freedoms, etc.’ She lowers her sunglasses to look directly at you again. ‘Put simply – you blab, you die. Got it?’

  You nod nervously and wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. Hand shaking, you sign on the dotted line.

  ‘Excellent.’ Agent Mallory whips the tablet and stylus from your hands and puts them away.

  ‘Glass!’ she commands.

  The tinted windows go clear. You see that you are heading for a huge complex of buildings surrounded by a high, electrified fence topped with razor wire. The sign on the gates reads:

  RESTRICTED AREA

  The gates open automatically and the car glides through them. As they shut behind you, you enter a world of intrigue, danger and excitement … that you will never be able to tell anyone about!

  You created this mess. You decide that you have to at least try to fix it. You clutch the red jewel in both hands, close your eyes, concentrating – trying to picture in your mind all the chairs and tables and other assorted objects returning to normal.

  You feel confident that it’s going to work.

  Pain shoots through your leg as one of the books bites you on the ankle.

  You drop the jewel and a passing pencil case catches it and runs off. You give chase, but the pencil case throws the jewel to a desk across the room, and the desk lobs it to a whiteboard duster.

  These objects are playing keepings-off with your jewel!

  Principal Uganaway bursts into the classroom, eyes wide and angry. He waves his arm and shouts, ‘Mortem!’

  A third of the moving objects return to their normal lifeless state. The rest of them squeal in fear and run around with increased frenzy.

  The chair that now has your jewel flings it to a nearby desk. The desk opens its lid and swallows the jewel. It belches loudly, smiles an evil grin and roars, ‘VITAM VIGOR!’

  You and the others are thrown to the floor as the building shakes and rumbles.

  What’s happening? An earthquake?

  No! Something much worse.

  You watch in horror as the classroom windows grow large pointy teeth that chomp up and down.

  The building is coming to life – and your classroom is its mouth!

  The door leading to the corridor opens and a long tongue snakes into the room. It heads straight for you, wrapping itself around your body, pulling you to the door.

  You are dragged out and swallowed whole by the monstrous school building. What a way to go!

  You stare at the jewel in your hand. It caused this mess, so you decide it’s probably not a good idea to use it again. You slip it into your pocket and look up to see Ms Hawthorne staring at you.

  She turns away as a book dashes past, treading on her toes.

  Did she see the jewel? Does she know this is all your fault?

  Principal Uganaway bursts into the classroom, eyes wide and angry. He waves his arm and shouts, ‘Mortem!’ A third of the anthropomorphised objects return to their normal lifeless state. The rest of them squeal in fear and run around with increased frenzy.

  With two more waves of his arm, Principal Uganaway stops the rampaging objects. He stares out across the dishevelled classroom, eyes going from student to student.

  ‘What happened here?’ he demands. ‘Who caused this?’

  The marshmallow boys look towards you.

  The principal follows their gaze. ‘Do you have anything to tell me?’ he asks, his eyes fixing on you.

  Should you own up and tell Principal Uganaway what happened? Go here.

  But he seems rather angry. Maybe you shouldn’t? Go here.

  You can’t bring yourself to admit to having caused this mess. You shake your head.

  ‘Fine,’ says the principal. ‘If no one’s owning up, I’ll have to find out for myself. Everyone, stay where you are as I conduct a magical audit of this room.’

  He holds up his hands, palms out to the class, and closes his eyes. He starts to hum. You wonder if he’s about to break into song.

  But he doesn’t. His humming rises in intensity until you feel the vibrations in your head. It’s as if something is in there, searching for magic.

  Your heart starts pounding. Is Principal Uganaway about to detect your guilt?

  You slip your hand into your pocket, your fingers brushing against the jewel, and hope that he won’t discover the truth.

  At that moment, the principal shouts out and is thrown back against the whiteboard by an invisible force!

  The other students gasp. Ms Hawthorne helps him to his feet.

  ‘I am okay,’ he says. ‘Just some powerful feedback. I … I’m not sure what could have caused that.’

  Ms Hawthorne looks up and meets your eyes. You turn away.

  ‘You can all go for early recess,’ she announces.

  As the other students head outside, you begin to have doubts about your actions. The jewel and your powers are scaring you. Perhaps you should confide in Principal Uganaway after all?

  If you decide to tell the principal, go here.

  If you choose to keep your secrets, go here.

  As you approach, you say ‘hello’.

  Fringe Boy is startled. He drops the book and the flask.

  You notice the book is called Black Magic 4 Beginners.

  He quickly scoops up the flask. You see a puddle of bright red liquid where it landed on the ground. You wonder if it’s blood.

  He stares up at you from under his fringe. His eyes are deep-set and very dark, almost black. His complexion is quite pale. His lips are too red.

  You have a sudden thought that he may be a vampire. After all, you’ve just discovered that there is magic in the world … so why not vampires?

  Are you brave enough to stick around and find out? Go here.

  Or do you play it safe and bid a hasty retreat? Go here.

  At the start of lunch you decide to follow the other kids to their magic-club classroom. It’s tucked away at the far end of the school in an old building that doesn’t seem to be used for anything other than storage.

  ‘I’ve got a great spell,’ says Reggie.

  He turns to Dougie, who immediately starts to back away. ‘Don’t you dare.’

  ‘Nasi pituita!’ shouts Reggie.

  Dougie’s nose erupts like an inverted snot volcano. Nasal mucus drenches the front of his uniform.

  ‘That is disgusting,’ says Hermione.

  As Dougie’s nose slows to a drip, he hurls the same spell back at Reggie. His nose is larger and his nostrils point forward a little more, so when his nose explodes with snot, it ends up in a splash on the floor.

  ‘Seriously disgusting,’ says Hermione.

  You’re beginning to wonder if joining this group was such a good idea.

  Perhaps you should quietly slip away as they’re cleaning up? Go here.


  Then again, their antics have been funny so far. Disgusting … but funny. Go here.

  You decide to go off on your own, exploring the school.

  You are checking out the bike shed when a large boy with a permanent scowl confronts you.

  ‘You’re the new kid,’ he says. ‘Well, let me tell you how things work around here. I run this playground, see. And in order to keep you safe, I require payment. A couple of bucks a week should cover it. Got it?’

  Safe? You ask him what you need protection from.

  ‘Me!’ The boy grins. His eyes flash, his hand waves and he mutters something. You find yourself rising up off the ground. ‘Now pay up, or I’ll drop you.’

  A bully? Your first day at Magic School and you’re getting picked on by a bully! Should you try to handle this yourself, or call for help?

  If you decide to call out, go here.

  If you think it would be better to sort things out on your own, go here.

  You feel that honesty is the best course of action and you own up to causing the disturbance.

  ‘I am very disappointed,’ says Principal Uganaway. ‘This is a serious matter. You should not be experimenting with powerful magic. How were you even able to perform such a spell?’

  Powerful magic? You performed powerful magic?

  You reach into your pocket and touch the jewel. You are about to tell the principal about it, when Ms Hawthorne speaks up.

  ‘Part of the blame is mine,’ she says. ‘Latin contains great power and is easy to misuse. I should have explained this better to a new student.’

  The principal accepts Ms Hawthorne’s explanation and leaves.

  Ms Hawthorne organises everyone to clean up the classroom, then speaks to you quietly. ‘I’d like to see you today after school. Come straight here after your last class. Until then, I would suggest you stay out of trouble and try to keep a low profile.’

  The rest of the day is uneventful. The other classes are very ordinary, and you avoid the other students during recess and lunch.

  After your final lesson, you head straight to Ms Hawthorne’s classroom.

  Go here.

  You don’t run away.

  ‘What gives?’ asks Fringe Boy.

  You ask him if he’s a vampire.

  ‘Dude,’ he says, gesturing to the sky. ‘The sun’s out and I ain’t toast.’

  You feel silly for making the accusation and try to explain, pointing out the red liquid in his flask and his pale skin and dark eyes and …

  ‘Like, chill, dude,’ he says. ‘It’s just red cordial. Gives me a sugar kick and helps me study.’ He holds out the flask to you. ‘Want some?’ He shakes it. ‘Real good. High sugar content. Packs a punch.’

  Do you take a drink, just to be polite? Go here.

  Then again, maybe you shouldn’t sip from flasks offered by strange kids with weird fringes. Go here.

  ‘Check this out,’ says Hermione, holding her hands out in front of her. ‘Fortuna decernere!’

  A little spark of light emanates from them and hovers in the air.

  ‘Big deal,’ says Reggie.

  ‘Wait!’ Hermione holds up a hand. ‘It hasn’t happened yet.’

  As if on cue, the spark of light drops to the floor. There’s a loud farting sound as the light disappears and the room is filled with the smell of rotten eggs.

  ‘A Stink Bomb Spell,’ says Dougie. ‘Cool!’

  ‘No,’ says Hermione. ‘It’s a Random Spell. You don’t know what it’s going to do until it happens.’

  ‘Even cooler,’ says Dougie.

  ‘So, do you want to try it?’ Hermione looks at you. ‘It’s very simple. You need to clear your mind and say fortuna decernere, which is Latin for “fortune decides”. Use your hands to direct it.’

  You nod, take a deep breath and give it a go.

  A tiny spark drops from your hands. It falls to the floor and disappears in a little puff of smoke.

  ‘Breathtaking!’ Dougie chortles.

  You’re embarrassed. You shove your hands in your pockets and turn away. Your fingers touch the jewel in your pocket. You feel it getting warm. You can sense its power. Perhaps you should try the spell again while holding it?

  If the chance of impressing these kids is important enough to you, use the jewel. Go here.

  If you think it might be safer to simply leave, go here.

  You call for help, but the boy casts another spell, causing you to lose your voice.

  You struggle to say something but can’t. The boy laughs.

  You get angry! You pull the jewel from your pocket, wishing revenge on this boy. One of the bikes shoots out from the shed, crashing into him. You drop to the ground just as Ms Hawthorne comes running up to help you.

  She tells the bully to report to the principal’s office, but watches you out of the corner of her eye as you put the jewel away in your pocket.

  Ms Hawthorne looks at the bike thoughtfully, then asks you to come and see her in her classroom at the end of the day.

  Go here.

  You enter Ms Hawthorne’s classroom after school. She is sitting behind her desk, watching you intently as you walk over to her.

  ‘May I see your ancestral jewel?’ she asks. She notices your surprised look and explains. ‘There is no way someone of your age and inexperience could have cast a spell like that … without assistance. I saw you holding a red jewel. There’s only one thing it could have been: an ancestral jewel.’

  You ask her what an ancestral jewel is.

  ‘You don’t know?’ Now it’s her turn to look surprised. ‘It’s a crystalline representation of the magical power of a family line. It’s usually inherited. And it holds enormous power … the combined power of all your ancestors.’

  Ms Hawthorne stands and walks to the back of the classroom, indicating that you should follow. She waves a hand as she mumbles some words. A trapdoor opens in the floor, revealing stone steps.

  ‘I would like to ask for your help,’ she says. ‘These steps lead to my private magical chamber, where I have been trying to perfect a very difficult spell. A spell that you and your jewel, I am sure, will be able to assist with.’

  She pauses and looks at you with great intensity. You see excitement and anticipation dancing in her eyes like flames.

  ‘Will you help me?’ she asks.

  Ms Hawthorne was nice to you … perhaps you should help her? Go here.

  But maybe you should check with the principal or your aunt first? Go here.

  You tell Ms Hawthorne that you’re not sure. You ask if it would be okay to think about it first, maybe talk to your aunt or the principal.

  ‘It is rather urgent,’ she says. ‘Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?’

  You shake your head.

  ‘Very well then.’ She takes a deep breath and extends her hand towards you. ‘Nescius!’

  Your vision swims and you feel light-headed. Everything is spinning and then you black out.

  Go here.

  You wake up lying on a cold stone floor. You lift your head to see that you are in an underground chamber, stone steps leading up at the far end.

  You gaze around at the incredible surroundings. It looks like something out of a fantasy film. Lit by dripping candles are shelves of old leather-bound books, a wooden table covered in potions and vials and mysterious paraphernalia in glass boxes.

  Ms Hawthorne stands in front of an intricately carved stone pedestal, on which sits an ancient piece of parchment.

  As you sit up, you notice that your jewel has been placed on your chest. You grasp it and jump to your feet. You are in the centre of a red pentagram – a five-pointed star – painted onto the flagstone floor. You wonder if it’s been done with blood!

  Ms Hawthorne starts chanting in Latin. The jewel is warm.

  The edges of the pentagram blaze with light, reflecting in Ms Hawthorne’s eyes like flames. The chamber is whipped by wind as a deep rumbling throbs through the floo
r and walls. The candles flicker and sputter. The jewel grows hotter, its power sizzling through your hands and into your body.

  You try to move but discover that you can’t. You’re trapped in the pentagram!

  Go here.

  You take a quick swig from the proffered flask. You’ve swallowed the liquid even before you realise how disgusting it tastes. It’s not like any cordial you’ve ever tried.

  ‘Dude!’ says Fringe Boy, getting to his feet. ‘I can’t believe you, like, just fell for that.’

  You ask him what he’s talking about.

  ‘You did drink blood,’ he explains. ‘My blood. Mixed in with eleven secret herbs and spices to create a zombie potion.’

  Blood? You just drank some of this weirdo kid’s blood?!

  You drop the flask and watch the rest of the liquid gurgle out onto the ground.

  You’re not feeling too good.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get every new kid to try it,’ he says. ‘But, dude … you’re the first to have fallen for it!’

  You double over as your stomach cramps.

  ‘Chill, dude,’ says Fringe Boy. ‘The pain won’t last. Another thirty seconds, tops. Then it’ll all fade away and you’ll, like, become my zombie slave.’

  He’s right – the pain is subsiding. And a numbness is taking its place, spreading through your body like a shiver.

  Your mind starts to go foggy. You can’t remember where you are … or why you’re here … or who you are. Your thoughts are slipping away …