by Paul Kater
"Okay, not such a good idea then," William said. He worked his wand, and another sunchair appeared.
"I want that one!"
The chair was purple.
William grinned. "I'll think of something else then, for the arrows. Perhaps just a wooden board they can aim for, that hangs next to the door."
"Yes. That's more like it," the witch said as she sat in the purple sunchair. She did not make it clear if she meant the board or the chair. "As long as it is purple." That too did not help William. "Looks like you've been biding your time, sweet man, your magic is much better already. Been going around the books? Or practicing? I sensed you were busy and having fun, made me grin too."
Hilda sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the sunshine on her face, patting the armrests of the sunchair.
"You know, if the magic wouldn't work out after all, you could get into business with these chairs. I'm sure many people would love them."
Willaim sat down next to her. "I don't think, sweetwitch, that we have to worry about the magic." He told her about the things he had been reading about, in her books as well as his own. The special book with the silk scarf was now making more sense to him, as his magical insights were expanding. Even Hilda's books, and those had been extraordinary to him at first, now started to become legible and understandable.
Hilda reached out and took his hand in hers. "I am glad about that, sweet man. So are you going to provide lunch?"
William provided lunch, they did enjoy it inside. As they sat eating, he told her about some of the things he had done and learnt in the morning, and she shared her experiences of doing the rounds.
Hilda looked at William. "There is something that you are not telling me. And don't play innocent, because I know this. And you know that I know, and I know that." She frowned for a moment, tracing back her words and nodding to herself. It fit and made sense.
"There is something I have not told you yet, that is a fact. It is a surprise and I hope you like it because it took me a lot of talking and persuasion."
"Oh? What's that?" Hilda was curious and sat up straight, her face shining. "Come on, tell me!"
William said: "I'll show you after lunch."
Hilda got up and held out her hand. "I'm done. Now show me." Her plate wasn't even half finished. As William looked up at her, she added: "You're done too, so you can show me. Trust me."
He could not resist the blue sparkles and got up. He took her hand and guided her up the stairs. "Now, the surprise will be best if you close your eyes."
"Close my eyes? Then how am I able to see it?" Her face betrayed doubt but she also was eager to find out what he had in store for her.
"Now it is your turn to trust me, Hilda. You close your eyes, I guide you and then I tell you to open your eyes again."
She sighed and closed her eyes. "This'd better be good. I don't like walking around with my eyes closed."
William opened the door to the bedroom and led her inside. "Okay. Look."
Hilda peeked through one eye, through both eyes. She turned round, taking in her bedroom. Her survey ended as she looked at William. "It's purple!!!" She jumped up and made a serious attempt to take William's head off, pretending it to be a hug. "How did you manage that? The house never wants something other than white, black and red!"
"It was a trade, a purple bedroom for no more arrows in the wall. That is why I put up the pole," William managed to squeeze out, tapping her on the shoulder.
"This is so shiny!", Hilda tooted in his ear, then planting a big kiss on his lips. "I'm not sure what you and the house have been talking about or so, but this..." Her eyes were almost more blue than their usual black.
"You know, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed of witchcraft, but I have certain abilities that come in handy now and again," William smiled.
Hilda got her feet back on the ground and looked at him as in a daze. "Now you're talking gibberish again. I don't have a shed here, and certainly not one with tools. I have a wand, you see, that's enough."
Now William laughed out loudly, shaking his head about the fantastic convoluted interpretations of normal expressions that he was used to.
"Hey, no laughing at the resident witch!" Hilda slapped him on the arm, in a futile attempt to stay serious, but her happiness over the purple room made it impossible for her to keep a straight face.
"I hope you're happy now," said the house, as William was not able to speak for a moment.
"Oh! I am! Isn't he sweet?" Hilda grinned, wrapping an arm around William.
"I shall refrain from commenting on that. I can only state that he drives a hard bargain."
"I don't care about that, as long as the room stays like this. Also next time I paint you, do you hear me?"
The house did not respond. It had already agreed to that; it was below its dignity to make that promise again. "Someone is approaching the door," it said instead.
Hilda and William walked to the window, seeing indeed someone come closer to the house. It was one of the villagers, obviously.
"He looks not happy," William noticed.
"None of them are when they have to come here. Usually means trouble." Hilda quickly made her way downstairs, so she could open the door just before the visitor could knock. That always made a great impression.
William, wondering whose trouble it might be, followed her down but kept away from the door.
32. Missing
The man had walked all the way from the village, as fast as he could. His face was red, he felt warm and tired. But he had been appointed to go to the witch and tell her the bad news. As he finally saw the house, white and black and red, he was relieved to have made it. But also doubt crawled onto him. What if she took the news in a not so friendly way... He was not ready to leave this world and move on to the next one...
Thomas straightened his clothes, patted the green streaks from his dark pants as well as he could. Then he walked to the door, raised his hand and almost jumped back two feet as the door opened before he had touched it.
"Hi." The witch stood in the door opening, staring at him. "What's up?"
Thomas grabbed his cap from his head and, crumpling it between his hands, he stammered: "Honourable witch, my name is Thomas. I was sent here from the village, with a message."
"And that is?" Hilda, still jubilant over the new colour of her boudoir, was in a very good mood. "Just tell me, I'm not going to eat you."
Thomas wasn't all that certain, so he stepped back a bit more. "The sheriff of the village wants to inform you, honourable witch, that one of our young witches has disappeared. Her parents are very worried because nobody knows where she is. All her belongings are still in the house of her parents, there was no young man known that she would have eloped with, and we have tried to find her."
Hilda's cheerful mood dropped to something far below freezing. "A witch has gone missing?"
Thomas' cap was wrung out again. "Yes, honourable witch. So we hope you will help us find her."
"Go back to the village. We will be in the market square in an hour."
Thomas bowed and turned to head back.
"Hey. You look hot. Here is some water." Hilda held out a flask towards the villager, who cringed as he came close to the witch to accept the water.
"Thank you, honourable witch." Then he turned as if Baba Yaga was chasing him.
"Crappedy crap," said Hilda as she closed the door and looked at William. "Did you hear that?"
He nodded.
"We have to help them. The witches in the village are not dangerous, usually do herbs and love spells and that. Nothing big. But they are witches, and I feel bound by honour to help."
"I am with you, Hilda. Anything we have to prepare?" William did not waste time, and Hilda appreciated that.
"No, not really. Just make sure we look good, and wait for Thomas to get back and round up all the people who can tell us something."
The getting to look good was easy. The waiting was not.
&
nbsp; They arrived on the market square. Thomas was there, as was the sherrif of the village, whose name was Alfred.
William flew behind Hilda, as she was the experienced one. They had agreed that he would follow in silence, and only talk to Hilda when she asked him something.
"And wiggle the link when you want to say something, I'll feel it," she had reminded him.
"Honourable witch, honourable wizard," Alfred said, bowing to them.
"Drop the titles for now," Hilda said, "let's get to the point."
"Oh, certainly." Alfred pointed at two people, a man and a woman. "These are Victor and Tessa, they are the parents of the witch who has gone missing. The witch's name is Fidelma, by the way."
Victor and Tessa told them when they had seen Fidelma last. "It was two days ago, when she said she was going to visit with some friends."
"The poets and all those, I guess," Hilda nodded.
"Indeed. Sometimes she is staying the night with one of her girlfriends, and then comes back home the next day, so yesterday we were not alarmed yet. But when we asked around yesterday evening, nobody knew where she had gone. Fidelma had left for home the same evening, they all told us, but she never came home."
Tessa started crying, her husband taking her in his arms for comfort.
"Where did she stay? And I want to know what path she would have taken home," Hilda said.
William was impressed with the way this otherwise so silly and wicked witch was taking charge.
The villagers led them to a house in the more silent streets of the village. That was where Fidelma had been visiting. The occupants of the house, a mother and her daughter, both said that Fidelma had left around dusk.
Hilda muttered a few things only she understood and flipped out her wand. William waited, not having an idea what she was going to do. Hilda tried to locate if there remained even the faintest trace of magic that Fidelma the young witch would have left behind. Wherever young and untrained witches go, they leave a trail of their magic.
She found nothing. "Too long ago," she muttered, "to crapping long ago. William, can your wand pick up something of a magical trail here?" Hilda had little hope that he could, but given the erratic way his magic bounced all over the place, he might actually get lucky.
William, his wand in hand, tried to find something. He relied on the wand entirely as he had no real idea what to look for. His results were the same meagre ones that Hilda had turned up: nothing.
They then followed the most obvious path to Fidelma's original goal, the house of her parents. The witch and the wizard in training kept their wands out, trying to find something that might give them a clue. At the turn towards the house, Hilda for a moment thought she noticed something, but it was there and gone and after that she could not pick it up anymore. That annoyed and disturbed her, but even those emotions were not good in finding the trail back. William plain found nothing.
The last thing they could do was to inspect Fidelma's room. In there they found plenty of magical traces, even William noticed vibrations there that could only be attributed to magical work. But those did not give them any pointers to what Fidelma had been up to. Her room was neat and tidy ("impossible for a proper witch", Hilda commented on that) and there was no sign of a struggle or a hasty leaving.
William looked around the room and noticed something. Something he had to ask Hilda about. Before he had to try anything, she had already picked up his feeling and stood close to him.
"I see no crystal ball," he whispered, "maybe that is some help? She may have it with her."
Hilda's expression changed to something that could be described as pride for a moment. "Very good, William, well observed. But witches like this have no crystal." Then she turned to the parents of the missing girl. "We are sorry that we cannot locate her this way, it has been too long ago. But we will ask around andlet you know if we find out something."
Tessa, Fidelma's mother, nodded, her eyes red from crying. Victor just stared at the magical couple and nodded. It was clear to everyone in the room that he was about to burst also, he just fought it until he was alone with his wife.
The searchers, magical and ordinary, left the house to give the worried parents some time alone and deal with their grief over the loss of their daughter.
William and Hilda got on their brooms. The witch told the sherrif that they would inform him about any news also. Alfred thanked them and then the villagers saw the couple lift off and fly away.
"We'll have to inform the witches that are around," Hilda told William. "The real ones, not the fluffy ones."
"The ones with crystal balls," William understood.
"Very good," Hilda nodded. "They may be able to help with this. But I have a strange feeling about the girl's disappearing..."
William looked at the wicked witch and he was worried that his notion was the very same as Hilda's.
Hilda looked at the wizard-to-be. "You think the same thing." She had picked up his thought. Lamador.
It would not surprise them if the wizard who had sent the challenge and who had taken Gerdundula from her home was now making his point even more clear. Reaching out and taking a flower-witch from the village that was so close to Hilda was a sign of him looking down on her in the most disdainful manner.
"I hate him," Hilda said. "He is making the challenge even worse this way, showing his superiority by taking people away. I wonder who will be next."
"If you knew, what would you do?", William asked her, thinking about it himself also.
"I wouldn't know, do you believe that? He'll either send an army of Grizbles or come over himself. Either way we're doomed. You and I together can take on several dozen Grizbles, but what if he sends a thousand? I am sure he can do that."
"But if you ask Babs for help? And this other one, that you went to visit a few days ago? Cassandra?"
"Calandra you mean." Hilda frowned. "That would not be decent. You fight your own battles."
"Decent? Is what Lamador does decent, abducting people as he chooses?" William almost let his broom slip as his anger about that remark flared up. "Whoops..."
"Be careful, you idiot!", Hilda snapped at him.
"I may be an idiot, but you are a twit if you cling to decency when your enemy is fighting a dirty war!"
"But I'll be a damned living twit, not a dead idiot!", Hilda screamed at William, her eyes flaring red.
"Is that so?", William yelled back at her, "what with the way Lamador is going about, you won't be alive much longer, remember? Three moons? Is that long enough?"
"Don't yell at me!", Hilda screamed.
"Then stop screaming at me!", William yelled.
The people that were working in the fields below had dropped their tools and stared up at the loudly arguing people that were floating overhead.
"Oh, you, go suck an elf!" Hilda was furious now and made her broom jump forward at a scary speed.
"Oh no, you won't," William muttered and sped up also. Alas, his brooming skills were majorly inferior to those of the witch, who had almost been brought up on a broom. As he was reaching a certain speed, there was a lack of experience and an overdose of unreasonable fright. Logically he knew that falling from this height at any speed would be lethal, but logic had nothing up against his basic instincts.
At a more moderate speed he headed back to the house. He was relieved that he could at least find that back, because flying a broom, he knew now, was one thing. Finding your way about from up above was a completely different ballgame. As he landed the broom without too much problems, he was already looking for Hilda's broom. To his uneasy surprise, it was not there. He looked around the house, and inside, but the wicked witch was not to be found.
"Dammit," he muttered. "Now what..." He stared at the sky . No flying witches. He thought of lifting off again to try and find her, but he was not certain if that was a good idea.
Meanwhile, Hilda had sped off and made a dive into the trees. She knew exactly what, how and where, and ended u
p safely on the forest floor. Her anger was flaring up, she kicked bits of fallen branches around and cursed William into anything bad.
"Who does he think he is," she told off one of the trees, "the guy can barely hold on to a broom and he is telling me about how to go against Lamador. Hah! Everyone knows that you play by the rules." Her rant went on until she got a tweak of severe worrying. It hit her so hard and deep that she stood still and stopped yelling.
Hilda looked around and bit her lip for a moment. All her anger was forgotten. William seriously worried about her! "Argh... that man is getting to me too much! Now he worries about me and I can't even ignore it! Crappedy crap!" She grabbed her broom, walked over to the only spot from where she could fly away and lifted off, heading for home.
The witch circled over the house. William's broom was there, against the wall, so he couldn't be far away. She landed, put her broom next to the one already there and entered the house. There she found William staring at his own crystal ball. "So, what are you trying to do?"
William had not heard her come in and jumped up as he heard the sudden sound. In a reflex his wand appeared. Then he saw who had come in. "Hilda!" He walked over to her, quickly, his wand disappearing. The emotion that flowed from him nailed her to the ground, so she was wrapped in arms before she realised what was going on.
"Hey, whoa, that's enough for now, okay? You had me worried sick when you couldn't find me!"
"No, really, how about that? I come home, you're not here. What should I do? Sit down and read a book?" William put his hands on her shoulder and held her tight.
Hilda looked at the hands.
William didn't care and held them where they were. "Hilda, please listen. I do not want another fight. You know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me. We're not seeing things about Lamador in the same way, but let's forget that for now, okay? Just for the evening."
"Hmmf," was her reaction. "And then what, tomorrow? We start this all over again?"