And stamping. The boys are banging on their desks with delight.

Kaytek crawls from under the bench, and the flies fly out the window in clusters.

“What’s all that screaming?”

In comes the headmaster – and at once there’s an investigation.

“It wasn’t us. The teacher saw: they came in through the window.”

“Maybe they’re forming a new swarm?”

“They were flies, not bees.”

“I thought they were locusts.”

“Maybe they’ve gone crazy?”

The lady teacher took the class for the rest of the lesson. Then all the boys went home, while the teachers held an official meeting.

They closed the school for two days and had a big clean-up. They even wanted to repaint the walls.

A notice was hung on the gate saying: “No classes until Thursday because of renovations.”

* Wawel Hill is a real place in the Polish city of Krakow. Krakus was the legendary founder of the city.

*** The philosopher’s stone was the legendary substance that alchemists tried to develop in order to turn base matter into gold, and also to produce an elixir of life. Perpetual motion describes a hypothetical mechanism that could go on working forever. Occult science is the mysterious science of magic and the supernatural.

*** Madey the robber chief, Master Twardowski, and Boruta the devil are all characters from Polish folklore.

Chapter Five

Kaytek’s spells at home and in the street – Sonolo, kasolo, symbolo – The first permanent spell – Danger

They say money doesn’t bring happiness.

“Health matters more,” says Mom. “So what if someone’s rich if he’s also sick?”

Mom is sure to think like that, because she’s had operations. She’s been in the hospital twice, once for quite a long time.

“Knowledge matters more,” says Dad. “You can lose all your money, but knowledge stays with you forever. A scholar does well in life.”

And his dad asks Kaytek to apply himself to his books and be hard-working and obedient at school.

“The greatest treasure a man can have is a good heart and a clear conscience,” says Grandma. “A good man is never troubled. He gets on with other people, he’ll never offend anyone, he’ll be forgiving, and he’ll always find friends who will help him in need. And his life will go by peacefully without harm to anyone.”

But Kaytek reckons wealth is important too.

If his dad had money, Mom could go to the countryside and she’d be sure to get well.

If his dad had money, he could set up his own workshop – he’d have a place of his own and wouldn’t have to put up with other people’s griping.

And, if he has a fortune, a good man can share it with a poor one.

So Kaytek wants to be rich.

He wants to have a hen that lays golden eggs.

One evening he went into the attic and tried to do some spells.

Please, I demand, I want to have a hen that lays golden eggs.

Sonolo-kasolo-symbolo . . .

Pramara-rumkara. I want, I command.

Lorem, ipsum, karakorum …

Nomen, omen, sesame, simile. Let me have a magic hen!

He doesn’t know what language he’s speaking or what the spells mean. They’re words he has never heard, or familiar ones he’s twisted . . .

He looks through a small window at the stars, he looks hard at his cap, where the hen is supposed to appear, then shuts his eyes again.

He holds his breath, then breathes deeply and slowly, then rapidly again.

He locks his fingers together, then spreads them wide, then clenches them into a fist.

He raises his head, then lets it droop.

He talks loudly, then tries a whisper.

Nothing at all happens.

There’s no hen, and not a single egg, not even a tiny one – as if to spite him.

As golden eggs haven’t worked, he tries silver. That doesn’t work either. “Maybe it has happened for the best?” he tries to console himself. Because where would he hide the hen, and how would he sell its eggs?

What would he say if they asked where he got it?

He went up to the attic three times.

And came back down very tired.

No. Better learn how to find money the usual way – in the street.

He’d start from a small amount, that’d be easier. A zloty to begin with.

It was a shame to be a wizard but not know how to do anything. He didn’t have any spells of his own – he didn’t know what or how or when. As if it wasn’t he, but someone else who was doing the magic for him.

Why did the spells work at school, but not in the street?

So he starts with a small one: I want to find a zloty!

On his way back from school he searches.

Or rather he doesn’t search, he just looks around. Because if you have magical powers, you find things without searching.

He’s walking along at a normal pace, not fast and not slow. He walks straight, then in a zig-zag. At first calmly, but then he starts to have doubts.

It hasn’t worked.

Maybe try in the evening?

There are spells that only work at midnight. Before the rooster crows thrice.

He’s done his homework assignments. He reaches for his cap.

“Antek, where are you going? It’s late.