Hilda - Cats

by Paul Kater

  Inside she saw the dirty footprints on the floor. That was another sign. She always made sure the floor was swept, so she could see if someone had been inside. "This place is not good anymore," she decided. "I'll have to see Lindolf about this, tell him we don't go here anymore." Magda kicked the tattered chair. "Where will we go..."

  With effort she then moved her chair to the side, kneeled down and wriggled a few floor boards until they came loose. Underneath them lay a package, wrapped in a piece of cloth. "We need this. Yes, we need this." Magda kept mumbling to herself as she took the package from the hiding place and walked outside again. She hid her package under a fern, went into the shed again and found the small box with flints in the corner. She took two of the flints and hit them over the overturned chair until it caught fire.

  Magda left the shed, collected her package and moved back far enough so she was out of reach of the hungry flames that quickly licked all around the dry wood. When she was certain that nothing usable remained of the shed, she turned and left the place. Of the shed only remained a stack of smoldering wood and a glowing hot chain with a padlock.

  -=-=-

  Baba Yaga looked up from her musings as a sound emerged from the heap that was Esmee. "Easy, Esmee," Babs said as she got up and went over to the bed. "You've had a severe attack of alcohol. I am glad it's you feeling like you do, not me."

  "Am I dead?" Esmee asked.

  "You wish, right? Bad news, Esmee. You're alive. Enjoy it while it lasts." Baba Yaga shook her head. "It's about time we make a proper witch of you." She rolled Esmee on her back, causing the hung-over witch to emit a loud groan.

  "If I am not dead, this will kill me," Esmee moaned.

  "More bad news for you. It won't. Now, where is your wand?" Baba Yaga did feel sorry for the whimpering witch, but this was something Esmee would have to do herself.

  "I don't want a wand. I want someone to shoot me," Esmee muttered as she rolled on her side and into a ball on the bed.

  "Oh, good news," Babs grinned, "you get to shoot yourself."

  "Go away. Please. I can't stand you."

  The door opened. "How are things here?" Hilda cheerfully said as she and William came in.

  "Gahhh..." Esmee uttered her view on things here.

  "Right. That says it all," grinned the witch. "How is she with the wand?"

  Baba Yaga shook her head again. "Not much. She wants to be shot, and now she can shoot herself she's not playing."

  "Shut up. Please?" Esmee sat up and held her head. "I am in pain and you are just talking."

  "And you are not listening," said Baba Yaga to her protegé. "Now whip out that wand and cure yourself."

  William felt sorry for the flower witch, the way she looked. Her dress was almost as much a mess as her face was.

  Esmee groaned as she popped up her wand. At least she had learnt how to do that. "Now what..."

  With some instruction from Babs and Hilda, Esmee discovered how easy it was for a witch to get rid of a hangover.

  Esmee jumped from the bed. "Wonderful! What are we going to do now?"

  "We're going to think," said Hilda. "Think about our next move. And we'll do that over some coffee."

  "Tea," said Babs.

  "Water," said Esmee.

  "Whatever," said William.

  The magicals united, and with cats they went to one of the lounges where they could get tea and water. William made some coffee for Hilda, who claimed she'd had better coffee in her life. He grinned.

  "So, what do we have," Baba Yaga said. "We have proof there is a cat-woman going around. The local king has the scratches to prove that."

  "And we saw paw prints and we have the hair to prove that," Esmee said, sipping water whilst eyeing Hilda's coffee.

  "We also found that shed. More proof, as there was some magic around. Weird and troubled magic, but it counts," Hilda said, offering her cup to Esmee who tried the black stuff.

  "Which leads to reason then that things centre around that shed, for some reason." William tried the tea, frowned, and turned it into coffee. "What on Earth did they do to that tea..."

  "I don't know," said Babs, "but can you do that trick for me also?" William could and did.

  Esmee stared at the cup of coffee she had just drunk from. "This is gory," she decided. She poured herself some tea.

  "I vote that we should keep an eye on the shed for a while," Hilda tossed in. "They are going to use that again." The others agreed with her. "We should go and have a look at it again tomorrow, maybe we missed something."

  They continued their plan-making until a servant entered the room and announced that dinner was being served.

  The witches and the wizard entered the dining room and were greeted enthusiastically by Snow White who waved them over. "Could Jordan and I have a word with you later? After dinner and when we've put the children to bed?"

  "Oh, certainly," Hilda said, "no problem. Maybe Esmee can give you a hand, so you're done sooner."

  Esmee grumbled but kept a straight face. Until after dinner.

  Snow White and Esmee came back quite quickly. Hilda and her comrades in magic were still at their table when the two women joined them. Snow White had her husband in tow; Prince Jordan did not look the happiest man in the realm.

  "Here we all are," Snow White said, "tea anyone?"

  "I'd vote against that," said William, "but sure."

  After the tea was delivered, and half of the cups' contents were changed to William's coffee, Snow White told the witchy assembly about the talk she'd had with Jordan. "We are very curious to learn some more about it," she said, ignoring the expression on hubby's face. Obviously he was not so keen.

  "It is nothing big, really," William said, "no reason to blow it up."

  "Oh, sometimes it is small indeed, but, uhm... blowing does help," Snow White said, her pale cheeks colouring.

  "Dear wife," said Jordan, "maybe we should-"

  "Oh, stuff it, prince," Baba Yaga said with her usual sense of diplomacy. "The wizard speaks. Let him talk."

  From an adjacent table, a servant who was cleaning it was shocked by the way the old and ugly witch spoke to the heir to the throne.

  "What are you looking at?" The unfortunate servant was in the line of sight of Babs. "Hush, scoot, go. This is private."

  "Yes, my privates," Jordan confirmed quietly and slightly uncomfortable. "And they're not that small."

  "Hush, Jordan, let the wizard speak," said Snow White.

  William shrugged. "As I said, it's nothing big. We'll sedate the royal princeness, do the procedure and cross our wands that he's not in too much pain. For too long."

  Jordan showed all signs of wanting to run, but somehow he stayed in his seat. "And how long will that be?"

  "The procedure? A few moments," said William, making an uneducated guess. "The feeling afterwards... depends on how much you can handle pain. Hard to tell."

  "I'm sure a strong, young prince like you is not afraid of a bit of pain when it is for the greater good," Baba Yaga remarked.

  Prince Jordan smiled as if he was trying to hide a severe tooth-ache.

  23. Scratches

  While the united witchcrafters were having a relaxed conversation with royalty, in the village tavern a talk on an entirely different topic was going on. The wife of Oscar the castle servant had been listening to her husband as he told her what Lindolf had told him. She agreed with Lindolf's words and now was repeating her version of those among her friends that had joined them at the table.

  "Did you know," she said, "that there has been a small army of dangerous large cats in the castle? It seems that they almost tore up the gut of the king, and he was not able to do anything about them."

  "No!" many people exclaimed, hungry for more details and preferably some bloodshed and other forms of sensation.

  "Yes!" said Sheila, Oscar's wife. "Even all the witches that are now in the castle were helpless against these animals!" The undivided attention of so many people made her c
onfident that 'improving' the words she'd heard from Oscar would not be too bad. She was not aware that Oscar had done his own share of enhancing himself. Well, maybe she was aware of that. In that case she didn't care.

  "Well, as long as they're in the castle, I'm fine," a big man with a red nose and a grey tunic said, as he raised his beer mug. "I'm not such a fan of the king anyway. They can have 'm, and we get to keep the money we now pay in taxes." His words were received with cheers from several sides; the number of people who became interested in what went on at the table increased.

  In a dark corner sat a man in a dark cloak, the hood far over his head. Lindolf. He smiled.

  "Is it just me," another villager pitched in, "or is it really a coincidence that these cat creatures started going around after these witches and that strange wizard arrived at the castle?" His words brought about a round of talking, yelling and unfounded reasoning.

  "No, can't be," someone said, "if they are the reason for the cats to be there, why would they not be able to keep them there?" Nobody seemed to find this statement worth considering.

  "What," someone said, "if these giant cats come to the village? And what if they start taking our guts out? Will you be cheering so loudly then?" This gave cause to another discussion, of course. Someone said that the cats would not come as there was nothing to get here; someone else pointed at the big gut of the speaker and told him that the cats would be happy with some of that, and then the inn-keeper had to do all he could, with all his waitresses, to keep the place from being torn apart.

  In the dark corner, the man in the cloak and hood smiled again. This, he knew, was very good. Suddenly he grabbed to his pocket, as something started burning in it. He felt the small pebbles that Magda had given him, they were red hot, and tossed them on the table in front of him. She clearly needed to see him. "Blast that witch and her magic," he muttered as the stones cooled down. He swept them into his pocket again, put some coppers on the table and left the tavern.

  Magda saw Lindolf come from the tavern. She stepped out of the dark alley where she had been hiding. He walked over to her and asked what she wanted. "We have a problem. The witches found our shed."

  "Oh. Shit."

  "Yes," Magda agreed.

  -=-=-

  "Now tell us, Willy, when are you going to do your thingy with Jordan's thingy?" Baba Yaga asked, just a little too eager.

  The witches and wizard sat around the large fireplace in Baba Yaga's room, enjoying glasses of wine. Hilda's was severely watered down, as usual.

  "The sooner the better, I think," William thought out loud, "he was pretty much pushed into being brave this evening, so we should exploit that."

  "He's a bit of a whimp, isn't he?" Hilda put in. "That hasn't changed over the years." As several eyes regarded her, she told them again how she had met Jordan, fighting and crashing into the glass coffin where Snow White lay. That story always was a source of entertainment.

  "Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps," William then mused on about Jordan. "Take him by surprise, might be the best way to handle this."

  Hilda agreed. Esmee still worried about it all. "Have you done this thing before?" the former flower witch asked.

  "No, but I've read books on how it's done. Didn't look too difficult. I'll be fine," William said, certainty all around him.

  "It's not you I'm worried about," Esmee told him.

  Hilda laughed.

  Baba Yaga then asked what they should do as a next step concerning the cat-woman. "Messing with Jordan is all good fun, I'm sure, but that's not what we're here for."

  "I say we go and have another look at that shed tomorrow morning," Hilda suggested. "Maybe they have used it again and the magic trail is stronger. We might get a feel for the kind of witch that's involved."

  "Good plan," Esmee said. "And once we... I mean you know what witch it is, what then?"

  "And what if you can't figure that out?" William challenged his witch.

  "Urgh, you are so negative, William. Give me some credit," Hilda grumbled. And to the other two witches she said: "He has been in that strange world of his too long, I keep blaming that. Such a waste. As to what we can do once we know what kind of witch we're up against, I think we should look at that when we actually know."

  "Which means you don't have a clue at the moment," William translated her words.

  Hilda looked at the wizard. "Yes. You're right. I don't. And that bothers me to no end."

  "I know, Hilda," said the wizard. "I can feel that. Now come sit in my lap and listen to me."

  "You do not tell me what to do, wizard," Hilda said, her voice threatening and cold as ice cubes Then she got up and sat in his lap. "I planned to do this long before you said it."

  Baba Yaga and her protegé stared at what was happening, for different reasons but with equal interest.

  William nodded. "We all know that we are walking in the dark and there is reason to believe we are running down a dead-end street. But nobody knows except us. So as long as we appear confident and seem to follow a plan, everyone will be certain we are on to something. And if we manage to make that feeling known everywhere, so that includes the village, then the witch and her partners will hear about that. Because that's how small towns work. You just need to talk to the right people."

  "And you know the right people?" Hilda asked.

  Babs whispered to Esmee: "I like that boy."

  "I heard that," said Hilda, "and I am waiting to hear an answer of this boy."

  "Shopkeepers and people working in taverns and on market squares," said the boy.

  -=-=-

  "I am not doing it." Santera sat in the corner of the room, huddled up under a blanket as if that protected her from Magda and Lindolf.

  Simi stood close to the young woman. "We shouldn't, Magda, she's still too hurt from that attach of these wild creatures, can't you see that?"

  "Baloney," said Lindolf, "they're only some scratches. Hardly worth mentioning. We have to bring the cat-woman out again tonight, so people will believe the tale that goes around the village now."

  The group was in the attic of his house. They had decided that was the best place for them to take residence, now the shed was destroyed. Lindolf had tried to talk sense into the three, but he was outnumbered. There also were no alternative places.

  "You just have to walk around a bit, Santera," Lindolf tried. "Scare someone, or eat a chicken or something. People have to know you are real."

  "I'm not going to scare someone," Santera said, determination trying to settle on her face and in her voice.

  "Okay, okay, wait, how about you just go outside then, go to the market square, you scratch over some doors so the marks are clearly visible and then we bring you back?" Magda offered

  Santera looked less opposing already...

  Shortly after that, a furry shape moved through the backstreets of the village, silent as a ghost. Santera had given her will to Magda again, allowing the woman to alter her appearance as she tapped into the power that Simi allowed. The cat-woman passed the door of a shop, stopped and slowly dragged her long sharp nails over it, the sound tearing up the silence of the narrow street. The large cat growled and leapt through the street, seeking cover in the darkest shadows while waiting if something would happen.

  The night remained quiet though. Santera moved through the streets again, until she arrived at the market square. Crouching down on all fours, she looked around. Her ears turned, catching the slightest sound. There could be someone around, even at this hour. The space in front of her was deserted, save for some carts. Santera ran over to the carts and jumped on top of the first one. It was empty. The next one was too. Leaving a few scratch marks on that, she jumped from the cart again.

  "Make her throw something through a window," Lindolf said, even when he had no idea where Santera was. He knew that Magda would hear him. He also knew that if he repeated his wishes often enough, she would make it happen, as long as it was somehow possible.

  Santera made
her way to one of the houses, picking up a piece of stone between her paw-hands. She flung it towards a window as she came close to it. As glass shattered, she madly scratched the front door of the house and then ran off, as Magda ordered her to come back.

  As the cat-woman disappeared in the darkness, lights came on in the house that had been attacked.

  24. Lindolf

  As Hilda and William entered the dining hall of the castle, they were immediately aware of a hush that went around the servants. They frowned at each other as they sat down. When a young man came to bring them their food, Hilda asked him what was going on.