World's Oldest Living Dragon by Kate McMullan

Chapter 1
    Wiglaf slurped the eel soup that Frypot had overcooked for lunch. It wasn’t as foul-tasting as his mother’s cabbage soup, but it was a close second.
    Erica carried her tray over to the Class I table. She looked glum.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Wiglaf asked as she sat down next to him.
    â€œThe new Sir Lancelot Catalog still hasn’t come,” she said. “It should have been here weeks ago.” She sighed. “I’ve been saving up to buy another copy of The Way of the Knight . My old copy is totally worn-out.”
    Just then, Lady Lobelia, clad in a gown of robin’s-egg blue, clinked her spoon on her goblet. She stood up at her place at the head table. “I have an announcement!” she said.
    The lads and lasses stopped whining about the food to listen.
    â€œThere is more to life than hacking and whacking, lads and lasses,” Lady Lobelia said. “There’s also community service.”
    â€œUh-oh,” said Angus. He had gobbled up his eel soup, and was eyeing Wiglaf’s bowl. “Sounds like more work.”
    â€œBut good work,” put in Erica. “We future dragon slayers must always help the less fortunate.”
    Wiglaf shoved his soup over to the ever-hungry Angus. He glanced at Erica. It was just this sort of goody-goody talk that helped her keep the Future Dragon Slayer of the Month medal pinned to her DSA tunic month after month.
    â€œAt my old school,” said Janice, “we knitted foot warmers for retired executioners.”
    â€œEvery week,” Lobelia continued, “a group of students will visit Ye Olde Home for Aged Knights. I’ll send the first group this afternoon.”
    â€œYe Olde Home is right outside Toenail!” exclaimed Torblad, who, as it happened, came from the village of Toenail.
    â€œYou can ask the aged knights about their glory days,” Lobelia went on. “Who knows? They may give you some valuable tips on dragon slaying.”
    â€œAnd on grabbing dragon gold!” added DSA headmaster Mordred. He sat beside his sister Lobelia at the head table. “Don’t forget the gold.”
    â€œMy Gramps used to live at Ye Olde Home,” Janice told the others at the Class I table. “But when Daddy struck it rich, he moved Gramps to Golden Years Palace. It’s very fancy. Fair damsels take Gramps for walks in the garden. And he has his own jester who juggles and tells him jokes.”
    Baldrick wiped his nose on his sleeve and raised his hand. “Do we have to go to Ye Olde Home?” he asked.
    â€œOf course not,” said Lady Lobelia. “You can stay here and scrub pots.”
    â€œI want to go!” said Janice. “Something wild will happen. It always does.”
    Lobelia chose Janice, Erica, Angus, and Wiglaf for the first group. She handed Wiglaf a map. Right after lunch, the four set off for Ye Olde Home.
    â€œI know it’s not nice to say,” said Angus as they headed north on Huntsman’s Path, “but old geezers scare me.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Wiglaf. “Geezers were young once, just like us.”
    â€œThat’s what’s scary!” wailed Angus. “I don’t want to get old and shaky and have bad teeth and drool on my tunic!”
    â€œMy grandpa never drools on his tunic,” said Janice. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth.
    â€œNo?” said Angus.
    â€œNo,” said Janice. “He wears a bib.”
    â€œSee what I mean?” cried Angus. “It’s awful, getting old.”
    â€œThat’s why we are going,” said Erica. “Our fresh young faces will bring cheer into the old knights’ dreary lives. And what joy I will bring when I recite the poem I wrote about Sir Lancelot. It is long,” she added. “But I memorized the whole poem.”
    When they reached Toenail, Wiglaf looked at Lobelia’s map. “We must head that way,” he said, pointing