The Incompetent Witch and the Missing Men

by DC Thome

  “Don’t ever’body?”

  “I don’t,” Megyyn said. “I don’t get how this would help. Brigid said the men had to soak in her potion—and just getting splashed with it made it work on us.”

  “Good point,” I said. “We could make a salve by mixing it with beeswax, coconut oil and zinc oxide powder and rub it on before we go.”

  “Sounds like a plan!” Dot declared.

  Megyyn yawned—and that triggered yawns from Camille and Ashley. I was tired, too, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep much. “Why don’t you all find places to rest,” I said. “Since I know where everything is, I’ll whip up a batch of anti-Brigid juice cream and leave it to simmer overnight.”

  Since no one had a man to go home to, everyone found a place to crash. Camille shifted into lizard form and tucked herself between two of my counseling school texts in the guest room bookcase. Megyyn stayed in human form and curled up in a chair in the hall. Cradling Abigail and making creepy purring sounds, Ashley bobbed around the house like a stray balloon, her head bowed and eyes closed. Bob the beaver shifter took off his clothes and sprawled out in my bathtub. Note to self—scrub bathtub before next shower. Dot found my Magic & Mayhem™ Battery Operated Boyfriend Model ZZZ!NG (the waterproof one) and disappeared into the living room.

  Note to self: Order a new Model ZZZ!NG.

  I awoke at sunrise with Ashley floating above my head. You do not want to see what it looks like up a banshee’s skirt at sunrise—or any other time of day. I kicked Bob’s ass out of my tub and took a very hot, very long shower.

  And thought about Hunter.

  Chapter 7

  I dressed for the attack in my romper with the lacy sleeves. As a one-piece, it was more likely to stay on my body than anything else in my closet. The airy sleeves wouldn’t weigh me down in strenuous mortal combat. It’s kind of low-cut, but the dog collar band at the neckline looks hot. Plus, the romper left plenty of bare thigh so I could wear my black suede over-the-knee chunky heel boots.

  Like a truly competent leader, I then transported myself to my office to pick up a hearty breakfast for my troops from the gluten-free, sugar-free, nut-free, extra-expensive bakery. I couldn’t go directly there because I didn’t know its name—which turned out to be The Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free, Nut-Free, Extra-Expensive Bakery.

  Back home I was greeted by horrific, unearthly screeching and cussing. I dashed into the kitchen to find Camille, Megyyn, Ashley and Bob encircling the kitchen table. Dot stood atop the table with arms extended, flamethrower-level sparks shooting from her fingers and flamethrower-level swears shooting from her mouth.

  “Consarned ho-schmecken flibberdegoblet mütterflükkend butzen-rǚmmin’ assenpfoffer cow-lickin’…” You get the idea.

  I grabbed Megyyn. “What happened?”

  “It’s the love potion anti-potion,” she said. “I smeared some on Dot’s arm—and, wham—she went batshit crazy on us.”

  “It was simmering all night! Did you let it cool first?”

  “Oh, yes,” Camille said. “It was definitely room temperature.”

  Clearly I’d fucked up another attempt at witching. How incompetent do you have to be to screw up a simple recipe, for Goddess’ sake?

  And how is it possible to make Dot crazier than she already was?

  I climbed onto the table and grabbed Dot by the shoulders. “Listen to me! Settle down! Whatever the problem is, we can’t help you unless you’re calm.”

  She stared at me wild-eyed, and then her head spun all the way round. Again. And again. “Yer mother!” she shouted. “Yer mother! Yer mother sucks kõch-und-bells.”

  I raised my hand to slap her.

  “Yer not going to hit me,” she said calmly, “are ya?”

  “No. Why would—why would you even think that? You’re not going to puke green slime all over my kitchen, are you?”

  “No. Why wouldja think that?”

  “Oh, my,” Camille said. “Dr. Pru—you healed her!”

  “I put my hand down. “Why do you think that?”

  “Maybe because,” Megyyn said, “just two seconds ago she was screaming bloody murder.”

  Being rude to people is the way I fix relationships. So maybe…

  “Holy mother of pancakes—lookie here.” Dot calmly held out her right arm, giving me a good look at the patch of black, sticky, bubbling goo. “It was burning like a weasel rubbin’ sandpaper on yer nipples after they was stung by a hunnert fire ants.”

  “The recipe called for hot peppers.”

  “Let me have a gander at that goosenhṳmpfende recipe.” She twitched her nose and 101 Idees for Rootin’ Tootin’ Shur-Shootin’ Witchy-Type Elixers levitated before our eyes. “Mmm-hmmm…mmm-hmmm. Ah. Just how many peppers did you put in?”

  “Just what it says—four tablespoons.”

  “It don’t say tablespoonies. It says teaspoonies.”

  I climbed down from the table. “Don’t blame me. It’s written in a weird hillbilly-German dialect. And besides, they were really tiny peppers, so I don’t see how it could make that much of a difference.”

  “What kind o’ peppers?”

  “Dante’s Dragon Breath Inferno Red.”

  “Eighth circle?”

  I realized the error of my ways. “So, maybe eighth circle was a little extreme. You seem to be all right now. Will you be able to join us on the mission?”

  Dot grinned. “It’s naught but tinglin’ now. Kinda pleasant.” She turned to me and glowered. “Cuz I’m pretty Goddessdamn sure the acid’s eaten all the way down past my nerves!”

  “That sounds bad,” I agreed. “On the other hand, you know that you’re a healer, right?”

  “Good point.” She closed her eyes, touched her right arm, mumbled a few words—including at least two “fucks” and a “buttwipe”—wiggled her nose and nodded. The black goo oozed off, leaving her arm with a youthful, healthy glow.

  “That looks great!” Megyyn said. She ran to the pot on the stove, dipped in her hands and brought a heap of glop to her face.

  I grabbed her by the wrist. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “We need it to protect us from Brigid’s love potion,” Camille said. “And it makes your skin look nice.”

  Dot levitated to the down to the floor. “I say go for it. It burns like someone pouring drain cleaner over yer hippity-hoppity—if yer versed in the discourse of the learned—but only for a minute or five. Slather away, girlies!”

  After an hour of slathering, writhing and demonic cursing, we were protected from Brigid’s evil juice—and glowing baby’s-bare-ass pink from head to toe.

  And then we ate the treats from The Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free, Nut-Free, Extra-Expensive Bakery and headed out to rescue our men.

  ***

  Dot and the ladies trekked to the cave while I took Bob to the ditch that flowed out of The Font.

  “It makes me sad to think someone would use this water for evil purposes,” I said.

  “That’s humans for you,” Bob said. “No offense. I mean, sometimes I’m human, too.”

  “No offense taken.” I shook his hand. “Thanks for coming to help us. Tell Zelda I appreciate it—I’ll treat her to coffee sometime. We have a bakery I think she’d like.”

  I kissed him right above his eyebrow, and he kicked the dirt like a kid in an old movie. “Oh, and, if you’d like, you can come check out my downstairs bathroom sometime.”

  His eyes lit up, then he shifted into beaver form and scurried off to collect sticks for his dam.

  Beavers are cute. But if I’m destined to spend my life with a shifter, I’m glad it’s a lion.

  Especially one particular lion, who needs me right now.

  ***

  I teleported to the edge of the no-fly zone and slogged my way to the brim of the cave, where I expected to meet the rest of the aSskicking Woman Attack Team. But the ladies weren’t there. I peeked through the slit, but didn’t see them. Then I heard Megyyn’s voi
ce—from somewhere behind me.

  She, Ashley and Camille stood on the opposite bluff. Megyyn and Camille were in the buff, ready to shift. “Why are”—I lowered my voice so Brigid wouldn’t hear me—“Why are you there?”

  And where’s Dot?

  Megyyn and Camille put their hands to their ears and shook their heads.

  “I’ll swing you over on a tractor beam.” Again, they cupped their ears to let me know they couldn’t hear me. They’ll know soon enough. I held up my arms and shot out a beam. And brought a massive, cigar-shaped chunk of rock about twice as long and round as a train engine roaring up out of the chasm.

  Aimed right at me!

  I dove onto my belly a fraction of a second before it smashed into the cave’s slit, showering me with pink shards and dust. The rushing water pushed me toward the ledge, but I managed to jam my feet into two rocks that bracketed the stream as it tumbled into the gorge.

  Meanwhile, the cigar-shaped rock retreated across the chasm, stopped and flew back again, hitting the same spot even harder.

  Dot’s hands appeared on the ledge, and she pulled herself up to where I could see her face, but she was still out of the path of the flying rock—which was now barreling in for a third hit. “What in the frappazayin’ Goddesshŭmpfen made ya do that?”

  “Do what?”

  Wham!

  “That!”

  “I just tried to tractor beam the ladies over here—”

  “Looks like ya missed yer target.”

  Wham!

  “What is that thing?”

  Dot sat on the ledge. “I noticed that the openin’ was a little slight, considerin’”—wham!—“how many people are gonna hafta pour through there, so I was fashionin’ a batterin’ ram outta the local geology. My plan was to wait until we were inside before we actually set it to batterin’.”

  “How was I”—wham!—“supposed to know you were doing that?”

  “How was I s’posed to know ya can’t aim a tractor beam?”

  “If you think you can do better, be my—”

  She raised a hand and twirled her finger—and Camille suddenly lurched forward and hurtled across the gorge. It looked as though that battering ram was going to smack her, but Dot flicked her finger and sent Camille into a loop around the projectile. As soon as the entrance the cave was clear, Dot rotated her wrist and set Camille down just inside the slit.

  “Show-off.”

  Dot winked at me, then beamed Megyyn and Ashley over before finally stepping inside the cave and tractoring me inside as well.

  As we collected ourselves, Camille dipped a finger into the stream. “Bob’s cut off the water from The Font.”

  “That’s our cue, ladies,” I said. We circled up and put our hands together. I said, “One, two, three…” and then together we chanted, “aSskicking Woman Attack Team—to the rescue!”

  Megyyn and Camille shifted and scurried off into the blackness. Ashley flew behind them on an extra-strong gust of banshee wind. A few minutes later, Dot and I emerged into the cavern—and Dr. Brigid’s Chamber of Evil.

  And things had gotten worse.

  ***

  Burners roared under each of the man-cylinders.

  “Oh, my Goddess,” I said, “she’s simmering them!” She’s simmering HUNTER! “Double time, ladies!”

  Ashley whooshed to her guard post, and Camille and Megyyn, who had already opened the first drain plugs in the first row of cylinders, raced around even more furiously. They each worked on one side of the meandering stream—a good idea considering the hazards of crossing the flowing water.

  “I’ll do the men on this side of the stream,” I told Dot. “You work the other side.”

  I aimed my first tractor beam at Pokey Quill, but missed and snagged the guy one tube over. He had a tattoo that indicated he was a warlock from Assjacket, and while I despise warlocks, I didn’t intentionally smack him against the inside of the glass before lifting him out and setting him gently on the cavern floor. Well, kind of gently. On the second try. After having him belly flop into two-inches of Brigid juice flowing over the smooth rock.

  After they were liberated, the men staggered around like zombies. They’re not going to be much help. I hoped that, at least, they would get over their Brigid-crushes quickly.

  But then, the whole plan unraveled.

  Dolly showed up. She had Band-Aids plastered all over her body where, I found out later, she’d been stung by the bees I’d conjured up, who’d happened upon her hiding in the flowers in my yard. The stings hadn’t sapped any of her strength, though. The diminutive troll picked up rocks five-times her size from a pile of debris and tossed them at Ashley. Ashley zipped over to me and said something to me in unintelligible clicks.

  Is Brigid here? I looked around, but saw nothing. And then a boulder winged past my head, skipped across the now flooded stream and came within inches of toppling Dot.

  This would have been a good thing to shriek about.

  Dot splashed over to where we were. “What in the schittzenschlῗngerin hell is going on now?”

  “That idiot troll Dolly just showed up,” I said.

  Ashley shook her head. “Aiiiiiiiiiyeeeeeeghhhh.”

  I looked to Dot, who translated: “She said the idiot troll has been following her for two days.”

  So that’s why she was so nervous at my house. And when we were hiking to the cave. And when we went inside the cave. And all the time I thought she was just a fraidy-ghost.

  “Aiiiiiiiiiyeeeeeeghhhh.”

  “She’s been trying to tell you,” Dot said, “but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “Oh, Ashley,” I said, “I’m so sorry. I thought you were just being a fraidy banshee.”

  And then she slammed into me. Hard. As we hit the floor, warm love potion soaked through to my bodoncadonca. And a boulder flew a few feet over my head.

  “Nothing fraidy about that,” I said. “I owe you my life!” Fuck you, Brigid, and all your evil, strawberry-scented plans.

  Ashley got up and extended her hand to me. But as soon as hands touched, Dolly tossed a rock right at Ashley’s head. I pulled her down onto me. It felt like I had pulled on a cold blanket, but I no longer found anything creepy about that.

  “I still owe you,” I said. “Dot—we have to get Ashley to safety!”

  “I got a better idee.” Dot grabbed Ashley’s arm and yanked her in front of the nearest man-tube. “The troll may be a dimshit, but she can get us outta here more tout-sweetly than we planned.” She positioned Ashley as though for a photoshoot, stepped back, hmmmmmmed—then opened two buttons on Ashley’s gown to reveal some cleavage. “That oughta do ’er! Now, whence the troll throws the next rock, hustle yer cute, little decomposin’ boobies out of the way so’s the rock’ll smashify the glass.”

  “Dot, I don’t think—” I caught sight of Dolly’s next projectile. Ashley wasn’t looking, so I grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the floor. The rock hit the cylinder, bounced off and rolled to Dot’s feet.

  Dot looked at the rock and sighed. “Let’s just add that to what’s becomin’ a long line of bad idees.”

  Ashley’s eyes grew wide. She sat up and pointed at Dolly thumping toward us carrying a Volkswagen-size chunk of granite. Dot and I extended our arms in blast-O ray mode, but Dolly’s charge ended abruptly. The rock simply crashed to a skidding halt on the floor.

  As I approached warily, I was startled when a ball of wet, scuzzy fur jumped onto the rock.

  “Abigail? What are you doing here?”

  She shook pink juice from her fur. “You may not listen to Ashley, but I do. I heard her try to tell you that the troll was tailing her, so I trolled the troll. And it’s a good thing—someone needed to trip her.”

  I scooped up Abigail and gave her a big hug. “Oh, Abby, you’re such a pain in the ass—I had no idea—”

  “You didn’t notice how sleepy I was last night?”

  “You’re sleepy every night. And day. You’re always fu
cking sleepy. Why would last night be any different?”

  “Whatever,” she said. “I’m wet and cold. Tuck me into your romper to warm me up.”

  “How ’bout if I stick you up your own ass instead?”

  Abigail opened her mouth, but the ghastly shriek slicing my eardrums came from Ashley. I didn’t even notice as Abigail dove head-first into my romper. My eyes followed Ashley’s bony, pointing finger toward the malevolent purple broom-jockey swooping toward us.

  Frigid Brigid had returned.

  And she was pissed.

  Chapter 8

  Brigid streaked toward me, shrieking and firing violet blast-O rays. I hit the wet, strawberry-scented deck.

  A voice came from underneath me. “Take it easy, for Goddess’ sakes!”

  I rolled over and looked down the front of my romper. “I don’t remember inviting you to hang out inside my clothes, Abigail Fucking Barker. Get out of there.”

  “No, thanks.”

  I reached past my faloompalas trying to nab her, but she kept squirming away. And when I finally got a good grip, a bolt of violet energy nicked my ear and blew Dolly’s boulder into a gazillion shards. Something squishy slapped me in the face.

  It was Dolly, her rubbery body shmooshed like an accordion to cartoon-character thickness.

  I peeled her off and held her up by pinching her flattened forehead. “Are you alive?”

  She closed her eyes and tensed her body—managing to puff out one butt cheek. “Sort of.”

  “Try to stay that way. I have other things to worry about.”

  Such as how Brigid can be up there if this is a no-fly zone. I hopped to my feet and extended my arms toward Brigid. “Keep fucking with me, and I’ll blast you right through the mountain!”

  “As if I’m worried about your incompetent blast-O rays!”

  I fired at Brigid, missing her, but severing the bristle-end of her broom from the handle, sending Brigid splashing to the floor. It’s the broom! It can fly because it’s an inanimate object. I should’ve seen that the first time we were here. Not wanting Brigid to sense my lack of self-confidence, I said, “Even I’m good at some things, you miserable wretch!”