Chapter 171. Wisdom Is the Most Precious Wealth!
"Has it stopped moving?"
Pro braced all four limbs on Duncan's shoulder, stuck out his head, and cautiously inspected the magic book in Duncan's hands.
"It should..."
Duncan hadn't finished speaking when the skull rose from the cover again and lunged viciously at Pro.
Duncan raised his eyebrows and said, displeased, "How rude. Even if you're going to attack, at least let a person finish his sentence!"
Then he lifted his arm and drove a wooden peg hard into the skull's gaping mouth, twisting it several times with force.
The skull coughed violently a few times, then shrank weakly back into the surface of the magic book, and even the sheen on its bones seemed to dim.
Duncan wagged a finger in front of the skull.
It didn't fall for it, staying very quiet and perfectly still.
"It should be not moving now."
Duncan nodded in satisfaction, preparing to open the pages and see what sort of magic was recorded inside.
But George's delighted voice suddenly came from the side.
"Duncan, come here quick. Isn't this symbol the same as the one you showed us the other day?"
"Right away!"
Duncan stuffed the magic book into his leather pouch and hurried toward the source of the voice.
He didn't see George's figure, but he did see a milky-white orb of light hovering in mid-air, swaying left and right as if greeting him.
"George?"
Duncan asked as he walked to the orb and stopped, suddenly feeling something soft.
"Oi..." George groaned. "Duncan, you need to lose some weight. I feel like I was trampled by an elephant!"
"Oh, oh, sorry."
Duncan smiled apologetically and sidled two steps aside.
"Where's the symbol you just mentioned?"
"Here."
The hovering orb floated to the nearby bookcase, moved up a bit, and stopped at the third row.
By the light the orb shed, Duncan looked.
Amid a row of pitch-black, dust-caked ancient tomes was a light-blue volume.
At the top of its spine there was a spherical motif, similar to the sphere held by the wizard carved on that stone dais in the Black Lake.
The only difference was that of the four sectors divided by faint lines, three were very blurred, while the one clearly engraved bore the image of an eagle.
"Wisdom is the most precious wealth of humankind?"
Duncan read a row of pale-silver letters on the book and frowned, murmuring in a low voice.
"Could this be the portion of the clues left by Rowena Ravenclaw, founder of Ravenclaw?"
He tapped the book with his wand, waited a moment, and, seeing nothing strange happen, reached out and took the book from the shelf.
It seemed no different from other ordinary books.
On the cover, a keen-eyed, powerfully built eagle beat its wings from time to time.
Just below the eagle, near the centre, two lines of graceful script—one large, one small—were written:
Wisdom is the most precious wealth of humankind—Show your wisdom, and you will obtain the corresponding wealth!
"How is it? Does it have anything to do with that treasure?"
Duncan felt something fluffy come nosing in.
Fred had come over at some point.
His hair brushed Duncan's face now and then, tickling him and making him want to sneeze.
He held back the urge to spray mist over the top of Fred's head, stepped a little aside, and said, "It looks like it. It should be the Ravenclaw part."
"Then what are we waiting for? Open it and have a look!" George said, urgent.
Duncan inclined his head and opened the cover.
Inside was a yellowed page, very clean, with no words or images.
No sooner had the question arisen in his mind than, as if a drop of ink slid down from high above, a splatter-shaped black dot appeared in the middle and then gradually spread outward, sketching a line of delicate small characters: "Trial-taker, are you ready to show me your wisdom?"
"Yes, we're all ready."
Fred said with solemn propriety, as if he were attending a Ministry of Magic recruitment.
But the yellowed page made no response.
That line of text remained centred, quivering lightly as though floating on a feather.
"This book clearly hasn't grown ears. It can't hear what you say," Duncan said with a smile.
He flicked his wand, and a quill drifted down onto the page and moved slowly, writing down the words Fred had just said.
After a moment, under the tense gaze of the three, all the writing on the paper sank away bit by bit, like stones into a lake.
"Brilliant, Duncan, we did it!" George shouted happily, and new words surfaced on the page.
Fred stared at the line and read, "How many angels can stand on the tip of a needle?"
"What a bizarre question is that?"
George blinked blankly, with a clear, innocent foolishness.
"Duncan, do you know the answer?"
Duncan slid his wand-tip into his hair to scratch, frowned in thought, and tentatively wrote his answer on the page.
"Angels are pure form, without matter, so if one wills it, a hundred billion angels can stand on the tip of a needle without any problem."
The writing on the page sank away once more, then a result appeared: "Congratulations, you have answered correctly. Turn to the last page, and you will receive a reward."
"Oh, that's brilliant! Quick, quick, Duncan, turn to it!" George said, full of impatience, itching to snatch the book and flip it himself.
But at that very moment, a change burst forth.
A cold, utterly emotionless voice came from not far away, and the three of them tensed from head to toe at once.
"Who is it? Who's there?"
Severus Snape appeared at the library entrance and strode toward their location at great speed.
"Quick!"
Duncan said under his breath, telling Fred and George to extinguish the orbs of light at their wand-tips.
The three hurriedly lightened their steps and hid in a corner.
"Will he find us?" George asked anxiously.
If Snape caught them, it would likely be worse than death.
"Relax. My potion is reliable," Duncan whispered back, telling Fred and George to ease up a bit.
With a rush of footsteps, Snape's robes swished as he strode to a halt before the very bookcase where they had just been standing.
The tip of his wand lit up.
He raised it and looked around, and, finding no one, turned to examine the traces on the shelves with care.
Snape had clearly noticed the newly vacated gap on the shelves.
Duncan saw his face suddenly grow dark, thin lips pressed tight.
"Damn..." Snape muttered, cursing under his breath.
Duncan didn't catch it clearly, only the first two angry words.
Then Snape glanced left and right, flicked his robes aside with one hand, and took long strides straight toward where the three of them were hiding.
Duncan's heart leapt into his throat at once.
Fred and George were just as tense, gripping his arms tightly.
Watching Snape draw closer step by step, Duncan couldn't help holding his breath, and he also had to endure the twins pinching him—double torment.
Snape stopped right in front of Duncan.
Even his breathing seemed to carry clearly into Duncan's ears, and his gaze swept past, as scalding as blazing flames.
But Snape didn't seem to discover them.
He paused and looked for a moment, then strode away to other parts of the library to continue his patrol.
Snape's robe lashed across Duncan's face hard, but he didn't dare make a sound.
Watching Snape recede, Duncan grimaced, rubbing his face, and hurriedly signalled to Fred and George to leave.
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