by Paul Kater
It was Esmee's doubtful honour to grab the frog. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the animal. "Go on, grab it and get it over with, witch," Baba Yaga commented. "It's not like it's going to eat you."
"But it feels so icky!" Esmee countered.
"Have you ever touched a frog or a toad before?" Hilda asked.
"No."
"So how do you know?"
That seemed to encourage Esmee. She picked up the frog. The expression on her face changed. Dramatically. "It feels icky."
"Some do, yes," Baba Yaga confirmed. "So the best thing to do when you handle such an animal, protegé of mine, is to decided where you are going to put it down. Once you've determined that, you focus on what you are going to do." Esmee stared at her mentor, while the frog hung from her fingers. "Then you clear the path from where the frog is to where you want it to go. Next step is that you grab the frog and put it where you want it. Are you still with me?" Esmee nodded, the horror on her face growing the longer she held the frog. "Good, I just want to make sure that we are absolutely clear on this. So, where was I... Oh, yes. You grab the frog, put it down, and you nail it with the spell. That's all there is to it." The old witch nodded to herself. "Best not to hold these things in your hand too long. Really."
Esmee groaned. She lifted the frog from the cabinet, half put and half dropped it on the ground, and popped up her wand. She aimed it at the frog. The other magicals as well as the cook saw her lips move as she rehearsed the spell. Then she spoke it and - nothing happened. Esmee stared at her wand and shook it a few times. Then she spoke the spell again, and the result was identical. The frog remained a frog.
The cook had a death wish "Looks like either you or your spell are malfunctioning, Esmee."
Hilda picked up the frog and looked at it. "Neither. This is a frog."
"Yeah. I can see that," the cook said. "It already was one when they brought it in."
Baba Yaga glared at him. "This should be the man we turned into a frog. Clearly it's not. Where is it?"
The cook had a death wish He picked up a meat cleaver and held it in front of his chest as he said: "I dunno, witch. They brought this here frog into the kitchen yesterday and said I had to take care of it. That you folks would come around and change it into a man. Thought I might as well get it used to a man's food." At least that explained the cakes and the wine. And the miserable expression on the face of the frog.
Hilda looked at the frog again. "You could've fooled me, frog." Then she looked at William. "Do you think we can find the real frogman?" Hilda grabbed Esmee's hand and put the frog in it. "Here, hold that for me."
"I am sure that out cats can find the animal, sweetwitch," William said. Obsidian Shadow looked up at him. "Meow." Then he and his black sister ran from the kitchen. Hilda and William went after them.
Esmee held up the frog. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked Baba Yaga.
"Depends. If you're hungry you could ask this cook to turn it into a stew. Otherwise you could go outside and toss it in one of the ponds. I'd opt for the second choice," Babs declared. "It doesn't look that tasty."
Esmee nodded and left the kitchen, holding the frog as far away from her as she could. She left the castle with it, Baba Yaga trailing behind her.
In that time, Hilda and William were still chasing after their cats. First they returned to the corner where the original incident had happened, the servant running into Esmee. As if they were professional search dogs, the cats sniffed the ground, just shorter. Then they took the magical couple for quite a tour around the castle, raising many heads, leaving many questions unanswered. They had no time to answer. They also lacked the proper things to say anyway.
The chase came to a halt when they found one of the people who had witnessed the rude servant being frogified. The woman, she had the face of a mouse, stared at the two cats and the two people, all in black. "What do you want from me?"
"We only want to know what happened to the frog. We know you were there when we changed the man."
The woman looked for a way out, but the cats had her cornered. "I don't know. Did you see the cook? I heard he has a frog."
"Wrong answer. That's a real frog. Esmee is dealing with that. We need the unreal frog." Hilda was getting impatient. William recognised the signs, and they did not bode well for the woman. "So, spit it out."
"I can't. I didn't swallow the frog," the woman tried.
"Taking the stroll down Difficult Lane, are we? Maybe we should give Esmee another one to practice on, William..." A wand appeared.
"No no no no no!!!" The woman surprised William with the speed in which she could say that. "It was one of the men who took the frog." She told them where they could find the man. It was Harko, one of the gardeners. All four in black then proceeded to the garden and gathered all the gardeners together.
"You, with the blond hair. Come here. We need to have a talk with you. About a frog."
The man shuffled towards them, nervous, and no one could blame him. "About the frog..." he started. "Yes. I had it. I gave it to one of the maids."
William got a not-so-good feeling. "Which one? There's a lot of those around."
"It was Lizzy-Belle. She's often taking care of the little pests- I mean the children of Princess Snow White." Harko described the woman, but that was not helping a lot so Hilda and William took him into the castle and spent a lot of time examining maids until they found Lizzy-Belle.
"Frog?" was Hilda's short question.
"Gone," was Lizzy-Belle's equally short answer.
"How?" Hilda wanted to know.
"Dicky," Lizzy-Belle explained.
"Crappedy crap," Hilda broke the monosyllabic conversation.
Lizzy-Belle elaborated then, that she'd taken the servant-frog with her, as Harko the gardener had said he could not take care of it. She'd taken it to the room of the twins, as she had to clean the beds there. The twins had been playing in their toy corner.
"Do I want to know what happened?" Hilda asked.
"Depends on whether you want to know that Dicky stabbed it with his dagger or not."
"Oh." Hilda looked sad. "The servant did not deserve that."
"And who had the bright idea to stick a real frog in the cabinet in the kitchen?" William asked.
"Harko. He said there were enough frogs in the pond."
The gardener tried to back out of the conversation, but a spell suddenly glued his feet to the floor.
"So you think we don't know the difference between normal frogs and abnormal ones, Harko..." Hilda said, walking around the gardener. "I assume we have managed to change your mind about that."
"Yes, honourable witch," Harko mumbled.
"Do any of you know if this servant had a woman and children or so?" William asked. Lizzy-Belle said that the man indeed had a wife and two children. "Right. Then there is an assignment for you two. You two are going to tell them that he's dead. And we're going to send a few guards with you, to make sure the job gets done."
Lizzy-Belle and Harko were not pleased. Their moods deteriorated even more when Hilda went to get the guards and instructed them. She released Harko's feet and then together with William she watched how the guards led the people off.
"That's rough," William said.
Hilda nodded. "Yes. But they should have been more careful with the frog. They knew it was a man's life they were holding in their hands. Literally."
William put an arm around the shoulders of his witch. "Come. Let's find the others and tell them."
Hilda leaned against William. "In a moment. Just hold me for a while, please."
18. Night watch
"We have to hurry." Lindolf paced up and down in the small shed. "I don't know where they got these witches from, but I have the feeling they are onto us."
Magda, dark circles under her eyes, looked up at the restless man. "Hurry? Sure. Go ahead. But then count me out. All this stuff is wearing me out."
"So you need more powerful people to drain
? Tell me how many. Two? Five? A dozen? I'll get them for you. Just get the job done."
Simi looked hurt. "I am strong enough to get Magda all the energy she needs, Lindolf."
"Cut it out, both of you. This is hard work for me. It has nothing to do with energy or hurry, it has to do with what I can take, do you understand that? I can't find simpler words for that." Magda sagged deeper in her chair. "These people are good indeed. I was scared shitless when I hit that bout of energy they had set up with the rabbit cage."
"How about a head-on confrontation with one of them? I think the castle witch is the weakest of them. That might be a way to handle the situation," Simi offered.
"How do you see that happen?" Magda asked. "From what Lindolf told, the four of them seem inseparable all the time."
"But not at night when they sleep," Simi grinned. "If you can get inside the castle and give the castle witch a surprise, that would make an impression!"
"Half a good plan," Lindolf said. "How do you think we can get out of the castle again once things are in an uproar? Do you think the whole guards and the other witches and such will just sit back when the castle is going wild?"
Magda also wondered about that, but she was not in the mood to spend more energy than needed.
"The castle witch has a room only one floor up. I am sure that an escape through the window is possible. Our cat has jumped higher places than that," Simi pointed out.
"Yeah," Magda had to put in, "but at what cost. Almost broke something, and some days of pain that we could not explain."
"If we plan this well," Lindolf thought out loud, "we may have something to go with. I know a few people that work in the castle and the stables. If I pull some strings and be quick about it, we could get the surprise out this night, or tomorrow."
"Tomorrow night," Magda said. "We're not doing anything this night. I have to recover. And we should make sure Santera is up for this also. Where is she anyhow? I used the stones on her a few times, she should be here as well."
"Santera is sleeping, outside. You little magical stones worked to call all of us, but she looked very worn out," said Lindolf. "Want me to wake her up and bring her in?"
Magda nodded. "Might be the best thing. We have to make sure everyone knows what we're going to do."
-=-=-
Evening fell. It did so very silently, as usual. Still it woke up Hilda and William. The witch prodded her wizard. "Wake up."
"I am awake," he muttered, "and you know that. So stop prodding me."
Hilda sat up. "But I like prodding you," she said with a fake pout.
"Not impressed," said the wizard as he got up. "I'm going to take a bath."
"Take me too?" Hilda asked with a hopeful look on her face.
William grinned. "Sure. Why not." He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shriek of surprise.
When they were at the table, together with Esmee and Babs, the old witch kept staring at the couple. Hilda stared back. "What's up, Babs? I'm not wearing anything of your stuff, right?"
"No, you're not my size. But please wipe that smug smile from your face, Hilly. I don't even want to know what Willy did to you, but it is in our best interest that you don't walk around like an advertisement for it."
"Our interest?" Esmee wondered.
"Yes," said Babs. "If they keep that up, I lose interest, and you are all with me, so there." She was clearly satisfied with the way the other three looked lost, trying to make sense of that explanation. "Having made my point this way, let's focus on this evening." She picked up the leg of a chicken and nibbled it at an astonishing speed. Less than a minute later she put down the clean bones. "We three ladies are going to scout the premises. William will do the forests. I doubt that the village will be targeted twice in row."
Hilda scowled at her bestest girlfriend. "You like being in charge, don't you?"
"Yes." Whatever people could say of Baba Yaga, she was honest. "Oh. Esmee. We have to arrange something for you."
"What would that be, Baba Yaga?" the witch asked.
Babs popped up her wand. "Supparum niger," she said. "That." All of Esmee's pink clothes had turned black. "Makes you look more like one of us. And don't even think of turning it back."
"She loves being in charge," William explained to Esmee, who looked at her dark outfit in terror.
The four of them left the table, picked up their brooms and sauntered over to the table where the assembled royalty was dining. "Hi," Baba Yaga said, "we'll be out and about tonight. Please advise your guards that they should not take shots at us while we're doing what we're doing. Things like that tend to annoy us."
King Louie asked what they were going to do exactly. He frowned as Hilda said that they did not know exactly. "We're going to scout the area. See if we can find the mystery prowler. Since it only strikes at night, being out at night is the best time, we think." The king could see reason in that. He called over a servant and instructed him to instruct the head of the guard to instruct the guard that they should leave the witches alone. And the wizard. As the servant darted off, William thanked the king and then they went on their way.
"Good thinking, Babs," Hilda said as they walked to the castle entrance which doubled as an exit. "Hey, 'Smee, coming? Got a pimple?"
Esmee was standing in front of a large mirror, looking at her new lack of colours. "No, Hilda. But when I look at myself, it is as if something is missing." The three joined Esmee and looked her over.
"Looks fine to me," Babs said. Hilda agreed with her.
"No, I think I know what she means. Let me have a go, Esmee. It won't hurt," said William. With some carefully applied magic he first put thin pink and purple braids in Esmee's hair. He stepped back. "No... not ready yet." More magic was applied. Esmee's thin blond eyebrows turned black. Then a black pattern appeared on the witch's forehead, as if it was a tribal tattoo. Dark red eyelids completed the picture. "You're a Goth witch now," William declared, satisfied with what he'd done. He stepped to the side.
Esmee stared at her new appearance. She touched her forehead and a grin came on her lips. She moved closer to look at her eyes. She mumbled something, and her lips turned black.
"Good grief, William," Baba Yaga muttered, "what is that?"
"Call it a small surprise," William said. "There are people who walk around like that in the world where I came from."
Esmee grinned a big grin now. "I like this, William, thank you." She had changed the inside of her black cloak to blood red. "I'm ready. Let's go outside and do this."
Hilda took William by the arm. "You will never put things like that in my hair, do you hear me? Nor on my face. If you just think about it, I'll know, and I'll do things to you that you will not like. I hope this was clear, sweet wizard."
"Somehow, Hilda, I think that you do not need something like that to boost your witchy personality."
"Oh. Is that what it is? Well, we'll see," she said.
Then, as they had reached the terrace in front of the castle, they mounted their brooms. "Say, where are your hairballs?" Baba Yaga asked, pointing at the empty spots on the brooms.
"Grim and Obsi were sleeping when we came down. We'll leave them," Hilda explained.
"Grim. Obsi." The old witch shook her head. "Think of proper names for them, Hilly. Now let's go."
Four brooms lifted off. Three swerved around the castle. William set course to the forests.
When finally they met up again, the sun was rising and the castle and its surroundings bathing in warm orange light, they had come up with absolutely nothing.
"This was not satisfying," William muttered. "Do you know how dull forests look in the dark? And no matter how often you go over them, it doesn't improve."
Hilda nodded. "Same goes for lawns, fountains and flower beds."
"Suck an elf, people, this was the first time we did it like this," Baba Yaga, "next night will be different."
"Yeah, boring from the very start, I guess," William agreed.
Esmee was the only one that looked something close to pleased. "It's a matter of making things interesting," she stated. "There is one guard who is never going to call me a bat again." With that she strolled off, floating her broom behind her just because she could.
"What was that all about?" William had the feeling he had missed out on something.
"I think changing her clothes and your painting her face changed more than just her appearance, William," said Baba Yaga. "We were flying over the little house where the guards are when they're not out walking around and doing nothing. A few of them were outside, and one of them did call my little protegé a bat."