by Greyson Mann
A witch with a wiggly, warty nose.
And a big black hat.
And very red hair.
“Mina?” Will’s voice came out so quietly, he wasn’t sure he’d spoken at all. A wave of dread threatened to wash him right over the deck rail.
Don’t panic, he told himself again.
If that was Mina, maybe she would help him.
He forced himself to look up, hoping to find his friend somewhere in that witch’s scowling face. Instead, he found an enemy.
The witch’s arm snapped forward. A bottle of potion hurtled through the air toward Will as if in slow motion. As it struck the deck beside Will, he made up his mind. I won’t fight Mina. I won’t.
He grabbed the sack Mina had given him and jumped over the railing into the swirling swamp below.
The cold water took his breath away. As he sank into the murky water, he could barely see his hand in front of his face. His feet struck soft bottom.
Swim, he ordered himself. Swim!
So he did, not sure where he was going or where he would end up.
When he bumped into a ladder, he grabbed it and held tight. Then he waited underwater until his lungs felt as if they would burst.
Finally, he broke the surface of the water, gulping at the cool air.
He looked up, wondering which hut he’d stumbled upon. It wasn’t on fire. And the deck seemed empty. But was it?
He climbed slowly until his eyes were just above the rim of the deck. Then he glanced in both directions, and breathed a sigh of relief.
No witches. No Mina. No Librarian Wick.
He sprawled out on the deck and quickly dumped out the contents of Mina’s sack.
Glass bottles clinked together, their colorful contents sloshing inside. But without his friend, he didn’t know which potion was which. How could he save her? How could he even defend himself?
When the bubble of a potion floated into view, Will stared at it in confusion. Had it come from one of his bottles? No—he hadn’t opened one yet!
He looked up just in time to see the redheaded witch round the corner of the deck. She furrowed her brow and reached for a potion.
Will moved with lightning-quick speed, as if he’d just sucked down a potion of swiftness. Without thinking, he grabbed the sack and raced around the other side of the deck. Then he remembered Mina’s words. Get up high.
Could he climb onto the roof of the hut? He had to try.
His feet slipped on the wet boards, but he pulled himself upward using the last of his strength. Then he lay on his stomach, peering just over the edge of the roof.
Down below, Mina the Witch studied him with beady purple eyes. She tossed a potion, which shattered against the wall of the hut. She threw another. This one landed on the roof and rolled off without breaking.
Will fingered his bow and arrow. From up here, he could easily shoot her. But I won’t, he thought again. I won’t fight Mina!
As the witch launched another bottle, Will heard breaking glass and smelled something foul. Then he felt the familiar churning in his stomach. He’d been poisoned. By Mina. His best friend!
And he had no idea what to do.
As the world began to spin, he held on tightly to the roof with one arm and dug into the sack with the other.
It smells like melon, he remembered. The potion I need smells like melon!
But he couldn’t remember the color. And he couldn’t open the bottles to sniff them, not with one hand. Not when his arms felt . . . so . . . heavy.
As his eyelids began to close, something drifted into view. Something red and leather bound. It fluttered open and landed on his chest with a thud.
Ms. Wick’s book of potions?
He lifted his head just enough to read the open page. Potion of healing. The image showed a glass bottle with red liquid, a potion as red as the cover of the book resting on his chest.
Will fumbled through the bag, lifting vials until he found it—the red one that tasted like melon. He untwisted the cap and poured it into his mouth, half drinking and half choking it down.
Then he lay back and closed his eyes.
“Will, shoot her! Fight!”
He woke to the sound of Mina screaming from down below.
As he rolled onto his side and glanced down, he saw why. The redheaded witch was tossing potions, bottle after bottle, at Mina. Bubbles rose as Mina fell.
Mina fell.
His friend.
His redheaded friend!
So . . . who was the witch attacking her?
CHAPTER 8
“Mina!”
Will’s head felt thick and foggy. There was no time to think. Only time to act.
He grabbed the bow at his side and fired arrows, one after another, at the witch. Each time she reached for her potion of healing, he cut her off with another arrow. She staggered backward.
With one last arrow, he sent her over the rail and flailing toward the swamp water below.
“Mina!”
Will slipped and slid over the edge of the roof and dropped down to the deck, his sack in tow. He knelt beside Mina, whose face was pale and cold.
“I don’t know what to do!” he cried.
And then he remembered. He did know what to do.
He pulled out the potion of healing, which still held a few drops of precious liquid, and dribbled it into Mina’s mouth. But he needed more. Of what?
He flipped frantically through Ms. Wick’s book on potion brewing until he reached the section on healing potions.
There! A purple potion of regeneration. Did Mina have it in her sack?
He poured out the glass vials, hoping they wouldn’t break. When he saw a bottle of purple potion glimmering from the bottom of the pile, he felt a rush of hope. “Yes!”
He opened the vial and lifted Mina’s head so that she could drink.
She guzzled the liquid like one of the baby lambs on Seth’s farm. Slowly, her cheeks turned pink again. And she opened her eyes wide.
“The witch!” she said, her voice raspy. “Why weren’t you fighting her? I thought we were going to die!”
Will felt his own cheeks redden. “Because . . . I thought she was you,” he admitted. “You were struck by lightning! I thought you turned into a witch!”
Mina laughed weakly. “No,” she said. “I was already underwater. I was safe.” Then she propped herself up on her elbows. “So you were just going to let her kill you? Because you thought she was me?”
She stared at Will with such wonder that he had to look away.
He puffed out his chest. “Nah, I wasn’t going to let her kill me. I was just dodging her attacks. There’s more than one way to fight a battle, you know.”
Mina shook her head and smiled. “You’re right. That’s true.”
Then Will remembered something. “And . . . I had help.” He showed Mina the book. “Ms. Wick got it to me, somehow, right when I needed it most!”
As he described how the book had “arrived,” Mina sat straight up. “Potion of invisibility?” she said. “She brought it to you! I told you she didn’t want to hurt you!”
Will nodded. “Can we help her, too? Did you find anything at the library?”
Mina shook her head sadly. “No,” she said softly. “There’s no cure.”
Will slumped down beside her and rested his head against the wall. “Well, at least we know she can protect herself,” he said. “She knows how to use potions—that’s a good start. Remember how she used that potion on Buddy?”
Mina whimpered beside him.
Except, it wasn’t Mina.
“Buddy?”
A loud woof sounded from the other side of the wall.
“She’s inside!” shouted Will, jumping up and racing for the door. He drew his sword, in case there was a witch in the hut. Then he barreled through the door to save his dog.
But Buddy was alone in the hut—in Ms. Wick’s hut. Will recognized it from the last time!
Buddy barked again
and greeted Will with a sloppy kiss on the chin. She didn’t seem to be hurt. So what was she doing in here?
Mina must have been wondering the same thing. “Did Ms. Wick bring her inside to protect her?” she asked.
Will shrugged. “I don’t think Jack o’ Lantern would have allowed that.”
They heard the familiar meow from the cat who knew his name. Where was he?
Buddy searched, too, her ears perked and her furry head darting from side to side. She growled.
Then she yelped and jumped backward.
Had something taken a swipe at her nose?
Something small, and orange, and—invisible?
“Ha!” said Mina, dropping to the floor and waving her hand through the air till she found the furry tabby. “Jacko is invisible! That’s how Ms. Wick is protecting him from Buddy!”
Buddy whined and licked her snout in embarrassment.
“Well,” said Will, “Witch Wick did warn you, Buddy. No dogs allowed.”
As he settled back on his heels, he heard something from the corner of the room. Laughter. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. “You know, Ms. Wick might be in here, too,” he whispered to Mina.
Her eyes grew wide. “You’re right,” she said. Then she cleared her throat. “Ms. Wick, if you’re in here, I just want you to know—we want to help you. If there’s anything you need while you’re here . . .”
As her voice trailed off, they heard nothing but silence and the gentle drip, drip, drip of raindrops on the roof. The storm was finally passing.
Then Will had an idea.
“We could bring you books!” he said. “Any books you want from the library.”
A breeze ruffled his hair, as if someone had suddenly stood up. Then he saw the quill rise from the shelf, poised to take notes. A scrap of paper floated down to the table. And the quill began to scratch back and forth across it.
“She’s making a list!” said Mina, turning to him in amazement. “She wants books. We can help her!”
Will’s insides turned warm as mushroom stew.
Maybe Ms. Wick would never go back to Little Oak. Like Seth’s zombie pigmen stepping through the portal into the Nether, she had stepped into a whole new world.
But she can still have her books, thought Will. And thanks to her, I still have my Buddy.
He stroked his dog’s head and then gazed in amazement as the scrap of paper floated from the table toward Mina’s outstretched hand.
“We’ll go right now, Ms. Wick,” said Mina, jumping up. “The storm has passed. We can be back with the books before dark. Right, Will?”
He nodded and then whispered something in Mina’s ear.
“You want to stop for potion ingredients?” she asked, as if that were the last thing she’d expected to hear come out of his mouth.
Will shrugged. “We’re almost out of healing potions,” he said. “We’re going to need to brew more. I’ll help this time.”
Mina flashed him the widest smile as she led the way out the door. And Will was pretty sure he heard more laughter from the depths of the witch hut behind him.
As he turned toward where he thought the witch might be standing, he waved goodbye. And whispered, “Thank you.”
There really was more than one way to fight a battle. And now Will was ready.