97 Ways to Train a Dragon (4 page)

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Authors: Kate McMullan

BOOK: 97 Ways to Train a Dragon
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Wiglaf dangled an eel in front of Worm's nose. Worm sniffed.
Slurp!
Then he opened his mouth.
Burp!
Wiglaf laughed. He tickled the pipling under the chin.
Suddenly Worm's eyes popped open. Yellow eyes, with cherry-red centers. Worm tilted his head. He kept looking at Wiglaf. He almost seemed to be smiling.
“Angus!” said Wiglaf as he wiggled the eel. “Worm's eyes just opened!”
Angus rushed over. “He can see me now! Come to me, Worm!” called Angus, patting his lap. “Here, boy!”
But Worm kept his gaze on Wiglaf. He blinked again. Then he opened his little pink mouth and warbled,
“Mmmmmmmommy!”
Chapter 5
“
I
'm sorry, Angus, truly, I am,” said Wiglaf as the boys hurried back to the castle for more Scrub-a-Thon. “I never meant for Worm to see me as his ... mommy.”
They had left Worm in the henhouse, in his nest, tired from all his boinging. Daisy agreed to look after him, but warned Wiglaf that he was getting to be too much for his “ig-pay anny-nay.”
“It's not your fault that Worm loves you best, Wiggie,” said Angus glumly as they reached the kitchen. “Animals love you. It's just that Worm was really starting to like me.”
“It was only luck,” said Wiglaf. “If Worm had seen you when he opened his eyes, he'd be calling you Mmmmommy. Don't give up on Worm, Angus. He does love you. I can tell.”
“You think?” said Angus.
Frypot was handing out buckets of soapy water and scrub brushes.
“You two are to scrub the statues in the DSA Hall of Fame,” Frypot said. He leaned over and added in a whisper, “Mordred saves pennies where he can, you know, and he's the one who paid for those statues. I wouldn't scrub ‘em too hard if I was you, lads.”
Angus and Wiglaf lugged their heavy buckets up the stairs. They stopped in front of the dust-encrusted statues of the DSA founders.
“I will scrub Sir Herbert Dungeonstone,” said Wiglaf.
“Then I will scrub Sir Ichabod Popquizz,” said Angus.
And they started in. But as he cleaned Sir Herbert's dirty face, it seemed to Wiglaf that his brush grew sudsier and sudsier. And—what was that smell? He had smelled something like this once, years ago. But, what? It seemed to Wiglaf that Sir Herbert's nose was smaller than it had been. Egad! How was that possible?
“Lancelot's liver!” cried Angus from across the hallway. “I have scrubbed off Sir Ichabod's ear!”
Wiglaf felt Sir Herbert's face. It wasn't hard, like marble. It felt soft. Like...what?
“Uncle Mordred is such a cheapskate!” cried Angus. “These statues aren't marble. They're carved out of soap!”
Soap! It all came flooding back to Wiglaf. He had smelled soap the time his father had gone off to buy a new pig trough and his mother had given him and his twelve brothers a bath!
Angus pinched a bit of soap together and molded a new ear for Sir Ichabod.
“It doesn't look quite like the old ear, does it?” he said.
Wiglaf looked, and saw that this was true.
“Well, it's the best I can do,” Angus said. Then he added, “Wiglaf, what if Worm didn't see you for a while? Do you think he might forget about you?”
“Maybe,” said Wiglaf, though he hoped it wasn't true.
“Maybe if Worm sees me, just me,” Angus went on, “he'll start to like me best.”
“Maybe,” said Wiglaf.
“So why don't I go check on him?” said Angus. “Just me.”
Wiglaf nodded. “Go on. I'll take back your bucket.” He watched Angus hurry down the Hall of Fame. It didn't seem fair. After all, he was the one who'd wanted to hatch a pipling. But if staying away helped Worm and Angus get closer, then he guessed it was worth it.
Wiglaf finished washing Sir Herbert's boots. Then he picked up the buckets. He was on his way to take them to Frypot when Angus came running down the hall waving wildly.
“Wiggie!” Angus cried. “It's Worm! He's gone!”
Wiglaf dropped both buckets. “But where could he go?”
“Daisy tried to tell me,” said Angus. “But I can't understand her, Wiggie. Help!”
Back at the henhouse, Daisy told Wiglaf exactly what had happened.
“E-hay ounced-bay out-yay e-thay ack-bay oor-day,” cried Daisy. “En-thay I-yay eard-hay a-yay ash-splay.”
“Worm bounced out the back door of the henhouse,” Wiglaf told Angus. “And then Daisy heard a splash.”
“He's fallen into the moat!” cried Angus. “Come on, Wiggie! We've got to save him!”
But just then Wiglaf heard
“Mmmmommy!”
And there was Worm, bouncing toward them.
Boing! Boing! Boing!
The hens screeched and scattered as the pipling bounded around the henhouse. He was soaking wet. Pieces of moat grass clung to his scales. Wiglaf thought he was bigger than he'd been just that morning.
“Mmmmommy!”
purred Worm. He nuzzled Wiglaf. Then—
Bam!
—he butted his head into his stomach.
“Oof!” Wiglaf grunted. “He's strong!”
Next Worm bounced toward Daisy.
Boing! Boing!
But the pig had had enough. She shot out of the henhouse. Wiglaf saw that she was trotting in the direction of the library.
The pipling bounced back to Wiglaf.
Boing! Boing! Boing!
“Get the book out, Angus!” cried Wiglaf. “We have to train him!”
Angus pulled
97 Ways to Train Your Dragon
from his pocket.
“You do it,” he said. “He'll do better if someone he likes trains him.” He began to read:
Training begins the moment a pipling is hatched. Training is more than just saying, “No! Stop! Ow! That really hurts!” Training is a way of becoming friends with your pipling. (Being a “friend” will become important later, when your pipling turns into a giant fire-breathing monster, who can easily bite your head off, set you on fire, and pick up what's left of you in its claws and carry you off to its cave where it will ... wait a minute, where was I? Still, training a dragon pipling can be fun. All it takes is patience, practice, and getting used to pain.
Follow these steps, from 1 to 97, and dragon training can be safe, too. Well, not safe, exactly. But you might live through it.
Way # 1: The best time to train your pipling
is
when he is hungry. (But not too hungry.)
Way #2: Keep that First Aid Kit handy.
Way #3: Buy a super-sized tub of Burn Ointment.
Way #4: Never turn your back on your pipling.
Way #5: Never show fear,
Wiglaf thought Sir Sitstayheel made training sound scary. He darted a look at Worm. Yikes! The pipling was shooting flames from his nose. In a minute he would set the straw on fire!
“Worm, stop!” cried Wiglaf. He scooped Worm up and held him. The pipling began licking his cheek. “Is there anything on how to stop him from setting things on fire?”
Angus flipped some pages. “Warnings, warnings,” he muttered, flipping page after page. “Ah, here it is.”
Way # 28: Flaming.
Most piplings like to blow flames out their snouts. It makes them feel powerful.
Ask yourself: Can I turn this scary behavior into something good?
My answer is: Yes!
Show your pipling how to light the candles on your dining table.
Let him light your cigar.
Let him toast your marshmallows. (But don't give him one.)
To get him started, say, “Flame on!” When you want him to stop, look him in the eyes and say, “Flame out!”
If you can't get your pipling to look at you, go to Way # 29: Eye Contact.
“Okay,” said Wiglaf. Eye contact. That sounded like something he could do.
Way # 29: Face your pipling.
Wiglaf put Worm down. He faced him.
Hold an eel treat to his nose.
Wiglaf dug an eel from his pocket. He held it up in front of Worm.
(If you are right handed, use your left hand —in case the worst should happen. Lefties, use your right.)
Wiglaf quickly switched hands.
Now pull the treat from your pipling's nose directly to your eyes.
Wiglaf was about to pull the eel treat toward his eyes when—
Slurp!
The eel disappeared.
Wiglaf tried again. Slurp! The same thing happened.
Angus checked the book. “Ah,” he said. “Listen to this.”
Did your pipling slurp up the eel right away? If so, go directly to Way #30.
Way #30: As the trainer of a dragon pipling, YOU must have the right attitude. YOU are in charge! YOU are in control. YOU are the boss! It is all up to YOU! Now make that pipling behave.
Wiglaf nodded. “I'm in charge, Worm,” he said. He tried to sound stern.
“Mmmmmmommy!”
Worm burbled.
“Oh, Worm!” Wiglaf laughed. “You are so funny!”
“Mmmmmmommy! Mmmmmmommy!”
Worm snatched another eel treat. Slurp!
Angus put the book down. “Wiglaf, you are hopeless!” he said.
Wiglaf nodded. “I'm just not the bossy type.”
“Here.” Angus handed Wiglaf the book. “Let me try.”
But before Angus could dig an eel out of his pocket, Worm bounced off toward the back of the henhouse.
“Worm, stop!” cried Angus.
The boys chased after the little dragon who wriggled through a sizable hole in the castle wall.
The boys wriggled through the hole, too. On the other side, Wiglaf put up a hand to shade his eyes from the sun. He looked in the moat. “I don't see him, do you?”
“No. But here comes Uncle Mordred! I hope he doesn't see him either!”
Chapter 6
Miglaf and Angus flattend themselves against a curve in the castle wall. They watched Mordred walk quickly toward the rear of the castle.
“Must be checking on his trash pit,” said Angus.
Wiglaf kept his eyes on the moat. He saw a small head pop up out of the water. Worm! The pipling had an eel hanging out of his mouth. He threw back his head and gulped it down. Then he flapped his wings, splashing like crazy.
“Who goes there?” Mordred cried. His violet eyes looked up and down the moat. But the pipling had dived back under the water.
Only when Mordred walked off did Wiglaf start to breathe again.
“There's Worm!” cried Angus. “Wiggie, we have to save him!” He grabbed Wiglaf by the arm and before Wiglaf knew what was happening—SPLASH! —he and Angus hit the water.
Brrrr!
It was freezing! Wiglaf surfaced. He swiped the moat weeds from his head with one hand while he paddled with the other.
“I see him!” cried Angus. “Come on!”
Wiglaf swam after Angus toward Worm.
Only the pipling's skinny little neck and head stuck out of the water. He saw the boys coming and burbled happily.
“Wrrrrrm!”
Angus reached out for the pipling.
Worm's eyes lit up, and he dove under the water again.
Wiglaf groaned. “He thinks it's a game, Angus.”
“Ahoy, lads!” came a voice.
Wiglaf looked up. On the bank of the moat stood Coach Plungett, the DSA gym teacher.
“Practicing your swimming strokes, I see!” Coach said.
“Jolly good! Glad to see you getting some exercise, Angus. And Wiglaf, more reach with those arms.” He began demonstrating the crawl stroke.
The boys swam using their best form.
“Better!” shouted Coach. “Much better!”
Just then Worm popped up again.
Coach had one arm up over his head. He didn't see the pipling.
“Like this, lads!” called Coach Plungett. “Do this every day, and you'll grow up to be manly men, like me!”
“Wrrrrrm! Wrrrrrrm!”
Worm called to Wiglaf and Angus.
Coach was busy demonstrating the frog kick on land. “With lads like you on the swim team, we'll beat Dragon Stabbers Prep, or my name isn't Wendell Plungett!” Coach cried. “Well, I must go and meet my sweet Belcheena for lunch. Farewell!” He waved and strode off toward the cottage on Huntsman's Path where he lived with his bride.
As Wiglaf waved back, Worm sprang up right in front of him. He was slurping down another eel. Wiglaf threw his arms around him. But the slippery pipling slid out of his grasp.
“Come, Worm,” Wiglaf coaxed. “Come to Mommy!”
“Mmmmmmmmmommy!”
said Worm. He swam to Wiglaf. But as Wiglaf reached for him, he darted away. He did this again and again.

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