by Porphyro
§2. Outside of the Witch’s house:
There’s never a worse time to kidnap a Witch than when she isn’t home. Not only is she unavailable to nab, she’s incredibly peeved if anyone dares touch her stuffs while she’s away. And her stuffs include the blades of grass on her front yard, the air that surrounds her porch. Yes, she’s a territorial one, the Witch. Come uninvited and…oh! Be prepared to give your fingers to keep your hand! (What I mean by that is you’ll come out of the encounter alive, but what’s the point? After what she’s done to you…what’s the point?)
The three wizards had no way of knowing she wasn’t home, though. After all, they weren’t really wizards. They couldn’t have possibly divined such a piece of knowledge.
It is true, though, that they could have planned things a little bit better.
Brett peeped through the windows. “It’s too dark in there. Do Witches sleep?”
“Why?” said Nader. “Is she asleep?”
“If she were asleep,” said Brett, “then why would I ask if Witches sleep?”
“Because maybe you saw she was lying there stiff dead and good for the taking.”
“But she’s no good if she’s stiff dead.” Brett stomped his little scholar’s foot. It was evident he was feeling cross. “We want her to be able to talk, after all, and answer our questions.”
Eh. Nader didn’t think so. Her carcass might go for something at an auction. “Perhaps it’s better she’s stiff dead, anyway.” Nader shivered. He couldn’t say why, but he was starting to scare. Did he feel something in the air? A wolf howl that couldn’t be heard from this distance? Wolf howls, after all, disturb the atmosphere. It becomes harder to breathe and…and…. No. It must just be a case of random goosebumps. “Yeah, maybe it’s better that she’s dead. Maybe we don’t even need her. Maybe she has a trove of books we can consult instead.”
“Enough with the books!” This was an exceedingly surprising exclamation coming from Brett. “We’re in desperate need of human tutoring! Don’t you see that?”
“But she isn’t human,” said Nader. “Right?”
“…I’m not sure.” Brett hit his head and moaned. “Oh! That I don’t even know that shows how pathetic our knowledge is!”
“Wait.” Frye was starting to get nervous as well. He couldn’t explain why either. He lowered his voice. “So what’s the plan?”
A good question.
“That’s a good question,” said Brett. “I suppose we should--”
“Now hold on, you spoil sport!” Nader stuck his finger to his lips. “Shhht!”
“Why?” Brett looked around. “Do you see something?”
“No, dumb-dumb. What if she can read minds?”
“She wouldn’t have to since we’re talking so loud!” said Frye.
“If she read our minds,” said Nader, “she’d know exactly what we were up to. No, we have to act instinctively. Not even we should know what we’re doing.”
“Oh yeah, because that’s smart!” said Brett.
“Oh be quiet!” Nader pointed at Brett. “You’re too sleepy to even think straight anymore. Look at those deep, black bags under your eyes.”
Frye was too afraid to look through the window. “What if she’s looking at us right now from inside?”
“Then she’ll get a good one to the face!” Nader picked up a hefty rock from the ground and tossed is through the glass.
Brett nearly fainted on the spot. “…you idiot! We’re dead!”
“Not at all!” Nader screamed. “Act spontaneously! Don’t allow yourself to think!”
But all three didn’t move an inch. They were rooted to the spot, too afraid to move.
Their minds were abuzz with worries. Their anxiety was so loud, in fact, they didn’t even hear the Witch walking up behind them!
As you can guess, she was furious.
Nader was thinking he’d betray the other two the first moment he got a chance. He’d forget about the money. So what if he wasted a decade? He’d make another life. Let the others worry about the Witch! Let them distract her and open up the opportunity to run.
Oh! She’d know that was his plan. She’d know it! And she’d go after him first as a result. Oh! “Stop thinking, Nader,” Nader thought to himself. “Stop thinking!”
Suddenly, Brett sprinted towards the door. “I’m going in!”
“But why?!” Frye’s roiling instincts were telling him to dash the other way. “Why would you do such a stupid thing?!”
“To apologize!” said Brett. “I will throw myself at her feet and apologize for breaking her window. Then I’ll beg her and beg her to teach me a spell to fix it. And then I’ll beg her and beg her to take me on as her student.”
“You’re still on about that?” Nader couldn’t believe it. “Just let it go, you fool! Forget your ambitions! Throw yourself at her feet--that’s fine. But beg for your life and beg to be let go. Promise you’ll never read another word of magic nor come anywhere near these woods.”
But Brett would rather die.
He opened the door and charged on through and screamed. “Oh!” He paused for a long time. “Oh!”
“What is it?!”
“Come in! Look at this!”
The others couldn’t help themselves. They followed Brett inside.
And to their surprise, it wasn’t the Witch’s house they were looking at. Rather, it was their little hut. Only everything inside was shattered and tattered and ripped to bits. Even the books!
“But how are we back here?” Nader was incredulous. He felt like crying.
There was a note lying on the ground.
“What does it say?” said Nader.
Brett picked it up and read it aloud. “It says: ‘Come back tomorrow to repair my pane.’”
Frye’s heart hurt. “Maybe…!” He stroked his huge, frightening mustache. Maybe she means just him?” He pointed at the cause of all their misery.
“Me?!” Nader shook his head. “No, no, no. She would have mentioned me specifically.” He was desperate for any sort of optimistic spin on things. “What if she was playing with words?”
“Like she’ll play with our bones?” said Frye.
But Nader pressed on. “What if she wants us to come back and repair her pain? As in, she’s lonely and is in need of company?”
“No!” shouted Brett.
“Oh yeah? How are you so sure?”
“Because…!” Brett held up the note. “It’s changed! Now it says, ‘Not at all.’
The three couldn’t help themselves. They huddled together in a little bunch and hugged themselves and cried.