Hilda and Zelda

by Paul Kater

There was no sign of Zelda. There was, however, a sign that others were near.

  "Drop your weapons and put your hands over your heads!", an amplified voice boomed through the street.

  "Oh. Fabulous. Just what we need," William said as he threw protection around himself and his witch. At the end of the street was a kind of police car looking like a Land Rover. The voice came from a big loudspeaker mounted on the top.

  Hilda looked at the car and pointed her wand.

  "No, wait, let me try to talk sense into them," William warned her.

  "Useless," Hilda decided, but lowered her hand anyway.

  William enhanced his voice. "We're not the bad guys, we're here to capture the one who does this."

  "Drop your weapons and put your hands over your heads!", the amplified voice boomed through the street once again.

  "Hilda? You're right. There's just no respect for magical people." A short burst of gunfire, clearly warning shots, underlined his words.

  "Crappedy crap, you stop that," Hilda said, flicking her wand at the police vehicle. The gunfire stopped after a few seconds. "Come on, we have to talk sense into them." She extinguished the fire of the burning car and then flew off to the police car, William behind her.

  There were two policemen in the car. One of them was doing all he could to open the window. He had his weapon in his hand, William saw. The wizard cast a spell to the gun, which became too hot to handle. The police officer dropped it, his scream was even heard outside the car.

  Hilda and William got off their brooms. William opened the door, using magic as it was locked. "Gentlemen," he said, "I think we need a word."

  Two pairs of eyes stared at the magical couple. The policemen could not think of a word that could express their need.

  "There is a witch on the loose," Hilda said, not minding the stunned expression of the two men in the car. "We're here to try and grab her. It would be very convenient if you mind your own business and let us do what we're better equipped for. You'll just be in our way."

  "Now wait a minute, lady," the man not behind the wheel said. "Who do you think you are?"

  "I am Grimhilda, the wicked witch. And this is William, my wizard. Lady is okay for once, but usually people address me as honourable witch."

  "Honourable witch?" The man behind the wheel almost fell out of the car in surprise.

  "Yes, very good. Now be on your way and let us deal with Zelda."

  The driver of the police Land Rover got out of the car and looked down at the witchy woman. "Miss Grimhilda, or whatever your name is, my name is Constable Barker. And I think we should take you and your friend for a drive down to the station and ask you some questions."

  "Uhm, officer, I don't think this is-", William tried.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but this is necessary. There is a group of terrorists out there and we do not want innocent citizens like you to get hurt."

  William shook his head and held up his broom. "You probably did not see this, did you? We came flying towards you."

  "More people have reported a person flying on a broom, sir. We are convinced that the terrorists have released some hallucinogenic gas that makes people see things."

  "Well, in that case we don't need to go around in these clothes, Hilda." William popped up his wand and changed his clothes to the regular blue and silver robes he had gotten used to.

  Hilda popped up her wand and changed her clothes to the red dress and the black cape with fringes. "Yeah. Much better, sweet man. Now let's find that witch."

  "But you can't do that!", the police officer complained, "and how did you do that?"

  "We didn't," said William as they mounted their brooms, "you just said we can't. Goodbye, officer." They flew off, upwards, hoping they'd be able to find a trace of Zelda.

  Constable Barker slowly closed his mouth and turned to his partner. "Not a word. Not one word. I don't want to be locked away and neither do you. Do you hear me? This was an effect from the gas. It got to us both."

  The man in the car nodded silently.

  6. Curfew

  William, knowing the town, took the lead again as they started to survey the place. Not all the roads had been turned over, so far. Havoc seemed to spread, from the road into town they had taken, into the centre. Some areas hadn't even been touched by the presence of the evil witch, they noticed. At least not physically. The absence of people in the street was a clear sign, however, that Zelda's fame had already spread like fire.

  "Let's go to O'Malley's pub," the wizard suggested. "Our scared friend mentioned that."

  Hilda nodded. "I remember that place, I think. That's where the men on the two-wheeled machines were. Pathetic bunch."

  William frowned for a moment, then they dropped to street level and found their way to the bar.

  The street where O'Malley's pub was situated was not in too bad a shape. Only one side of the road had been damaged, but that was damaged severely. A small gorge lay in the middle of the street. A car would not be able to pass through it. A motorcycle or a bicycle would work. And a broom, of course.

  The outside of the bar had changed somewhat, since William's last visit. Nothing dramatic, and certainly nothing that indicated the presence of a witch like Zelda. There was no sound either. Not inside the bar, not in the street.

  Hilda's wand went round, and she shook her head. "No witch around at the moment. We'd better check inside then."

  They dismounted from their brooms. William pushed against the door, which calmly opened. A strange smell came from the inside, making Hilda wiggle her nose. "Witch," she simply said and went inside, her broom in hand.

  The pub was not a pub anymore. Everything was black. All the regular tables and chairs had been turned into massive black benches with black candles on them. The bar itself was now a large shrine with all kinds of artifacts in it. Some looked so bizarre that William was glad he did not know what they were. The mirror behind what had been the bar was now a grotesque image of witches and wizards doing all kinds of unmentionable things.

  "Zelda's been here alright," Hilda nodded, disrupting the deadly silence that hung in the pub. "This is very much her style."

  "I would never have guessed," said William, "as her house looked so normal."

  "There are more sides to a witch than how her house looks, William." Hilda looked round, her wand in hand. "We might upset her a bit by rearranging her set-up here."

  "Do you think that is a good thing?", William asked. "It will tell her we are here. At this moment we have the advantage of knowing she is here and she's oblivious to our whereabouts."

  "I knew I kept you around for something, William." Hilda smiled at him. "Let's keep an eye on this place and look around at what she's been doing so far."

  William nodded. He was more than willing to get out of the depressing place that had been O'Malley's. And he wondered what had become of Patrick O'Malley himself.

  They left the pub, mounted their brooms and flew off.

  William led them to the bookstore of his old friend, Bert Bantrey. The bookstore itself was still a bookstore. Some of the windows had been smashed and boarded up, but the door was still where it was supposed to be. He knocked on the door and stepped into the store, from where the familiar scent of books and ink welcomed him home.

  "Hold it right there." The voice was determined and full of anger. The metallic click that had to be from a gun underlined how serious the owner of the voice was about his statement.

  William stood still and held Hilda back also. "Bert? It's me. William Connoley."

  "Sure. William Connoley does not walk 'round in a blue dress."

  William changed his clothes into what Bert had been used to. "Better this way?"

  "Holy shit. William. Is that you? What'd you do?" Bert still did not show himself, but William had by now determined where his friend of old was hiding.

  "Yes Bert, it's me. And this is my... wife. Hilda."

  "I'm not your wife,
William, I'm your witch. That's better," Hilda commented.

  Bert got to his feet, a large gun still pointing at the two people. "I know that voice," he said. "She's the woman who was here so many years ago. You knocked me out with a book. That was you." The barrel of the gun shook precariously.

  "Yes. I'm glad you remember me," Hilda said.

  The owner of the bookstore tightened his grip on his weapon. "If she is a real witch, then you can be anyone. How do I know you are William Connoley?"

  William slowly and calmly told a few things that only he and Bert would know. About hunts for books they had done together. About a night in O'Malley's. And about the last telephone conversation they'd had before William had so mysteriously disappeared.

  Bert lowered the gun. "You must be William then. But still I don't understand. What did you do, just now, when you were in that blue dress?"

  "William is a wizard now," Hilda said before William had found a proper way to explain it. "He came to my world and somehow he changed into a magical person. And wizards wear the blue robes." She prodded him.

  "It's true, Bert. I am a wizard." William held up the broom. "This is my transport."

  "Get out of here, William Connoley. You do not fly on a broom. That is the stuff for fairy-tales." Bert put the gun on the counter and stepped closer, to shake the hand of his friend. And the woman who claimed to be a witch. It was remarkable, Bert noticed, how his friend put the broom down, but did not put away the little stick in his hand. William just took it in his left hand as long as it took to shake Bert's hand.

  Bert then