Hilda - The Challenge (10 page)

"I really wouldn't know, Hilda."

"Isn't there anything magical you can do? Not
even the smallest, simplest bit like making my wand fly?" After
all, a wand was loaded with so much magic that it hardly needed
encouragement to fly.

William frowned. "Since when is that simple?
I sell books, Hilda. I am engulfed in the magic of books, fabulous
old books. Books that are handwritten, or printed by hand with
woodblocks, bound in leather and still holding the smell of
monasteries."

"Monasteries. Hah. No good for me now," Hilda
said, and she was right. "Then what is it that you know that can
help me? Do your handwritten books say something about going
against a sorcerer who is not playing by the rules and about to
beat the crap out of me? Or worse?" The witch looked tired all of a
sudden, and desperate. "Urgh..." She sank her head on her folded
arms that rested on the table. "I don't want all this crap, Wiliam.
I want to fly around and do what I do best. Not stuff like
this."

William felt sorry for the woman on the other
side of the table. "I really wish I could tell you something to
make you feel better."

Her face still on her arms, she asked: "Do
you know how much it sometimes sucks having to do everything
alone?"

William got up and sat down next to Hilda. He
put an arm around her schoulders and pulled her against him, which,
to his surprise, she allowed to happen. She even leaned into him.
"Okay, I may not be able to do very much for you, Hilda," he said,
"but for now you are not alone. According to Babs I am here for a
reason. We both are looking for it, but I don't think we'll be able
to figure that out this very evening. We still have three
moons."

"Yeah," Hilda said, her eyes closed, "but it
makes me nervous still. And what the hell are you doing?" Her voice
did not change in volume or emotion as she spoke, it sounded as if
the question was a logical part to her statement.

"I am holding you, so you feel you are not
alone."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a while.

"And what else are you doing?", Hilda
asked.

William, his thoughts drifting over things
that had happened, was pulled back to the living room and the witch
that was still leaning into him. "Uhm... thinking?"

The witch slowly shook her head, her long
grey hair spreading out over the blue robe William wore. "Something
else. I can feel it."

The salesman wondered what she could mean. He
did nothing special, just enjoying the feeling and holding her. "Is
it something bad?"

"You'd know if it was bad, believe me. I
don't handle bad feelings well..." Hilda purred like a kitten.

"Want me to put you in your bed?", William
asked, with only proper intentions.

"Yes... NO!" She sat up, pushing herself away
from him and stared at him. "No, no, you can't do that!" Her cheeks
became so red that it was clearly visible even in the light of the
candles on the table. Then quickly she got up and moved to the
other side of the table, her eyes fixed on his face. "I mean, I
know you can, but I don't know- No, you shouldn't."

The witch bit her lip for a moment. "I'm
taking a bath and then I go to sleep." She kept looking at William,
as if she wanted to will him to remain where he was.

"Of course, Hilda," the guest said, "if that
is what you want then that is what you should do. I'll stay
downstairs and read some of the books. Just let me know when you're
done."

"Hmm. Okay. Just you stay down here. No
peeking, or you're out of the house faster than you can think." Her
tone was defensive, her heartbeat was high and she felt insecure
and confused.

"Don't worry. I'll be good."

Hilda nodded and went up the stairs, mumbling
and muttering.

William listened to her go until a door
closed and the sounds that the witch made were cut off. Then he
picked up one of the books that Hilda allowed him to read. He put a
few candles closer by so he had enough light to read. "Right. What
do we have here... 'Manifesting protection - an
introduction'..."

Hilda sat in her bathtub, staring at the
purple bubbles, soap making her hair stand out in all directions.
"Suck an elf," she muttered. "Why doesn't he open up about his
magic. He does something, the rat, and he says he's innocent." She
threw her sponge in the tub, splashing water around. "I wish I
hated it. Argh."

He had been so wrapped up in the book that he
had not heard Hilda come down again.

"William, bathroom's free."

"Huh? Oh, thanks." He looked at her and
smiled. She wore a bright red housecoat that hung to her ankles.
Her hair was still damp, her face soft in the dim light that
reached the bottom of the stairs. He noticed she was barefoot. "I'm
almost done with this chapter. Sleep well, Hilda."

"Yeah, you too." She lingered at the stairs,
a hand on the handrail. "And thank you for this evening." As if she
was fleeing, she turned and quickly ran up the stairs, finding
refuge in her room.

Soon peace and quiet descended over most of
the magical house. Exception was Hilda's bedroom, where a witch lay
tossing and turning and worrying.

Despite the early hour Hilda already sat in
the room at the table when William came quietly down the stairs.
She wore the bright red long housecoat again.

"Good morning," she said, turning her head to
him as she heard him. "You're up early."

"Look who's talking," he grinned as he sat
down opposire her. He was in the grey velvet trousers and the
shirt. And barefoot.

Hilda had made tea already and without asking
she poured him a cup. "You know, there is something from your
insane world that I miss. It's that stuff you call coffee. I've
tried to conjure that up a few times but it's never the real
thing."

"You need the proper beans for it," he
admitted, "otherwise it will be quite difficult."

"Beans..." Hilda repeated the word in
disbelief and snorted. She looked out of the window and watched the
sun rise.

"Why are you up so early? Habit?", William
asked.

The wicked witch, not looking or feeling very
wicked at that moment, shrugged. "Just happened. And you?"

"Just happened. And habit, somewhat." He got
up. "I'm making breakfast."

She looked up at him. "Let me do that. It's
safer."

"No way," he said, gently pushing her back on
the chair as she wanted to rise. "I've survived once, I'll manage
again."

"Bloody hell you will," she said, using a
spark of magic to stand up despite his hand, "I'm the one who makes
breakfast here, got that? This is my house, and you're the
guest."

"And I'm the one who sees you slept terrible,
so I'm making breakfast."

Argueing like an old couple they went to the
kitchen. Hilda tried to block the entrance by putting herself in
it, but William simply picked her up and sat her down on a
sideboard after which he marched into the kitchen.

"Hey, you... you..." Hilda's flaring-up anger
prevented her from finding the proper word. She jumped from the
sideboard and ran after him, snatching the apron from his hands and
holding it behind her back. "How dare you!"

"Easy," the guest in the house said as he
tried to grab the apron from her. For that he reached behind her
with both hands, catching her in his arms. As he did so, her arms
were pressed against her sides, virtually immobilising her.

"You are NOT making breakfast!", she
exclaimed. In a reflex she changed the apron into a rope as he took
it. The rope flung itself around his wrists. "Ha, gotcha!", she
gloated, knowing he was tied up.

It took William a few seconds to understand
that his arms were indeed tied together. Then he grinned. "Looks
like we got eachother, miss Witch."

"Crap," Hilda admitted. She was still caught
in his arms, and because of the rope he could not let go of
her.

"Like this we are not getting any closer to
breakfast, Hilda, so if you just untie my hands," William
offered.

"Oh, right, and then all this starts again,
right? I don't think so." Hilda exhaled, making herself as thin as
she could and dropped herself to her knees. Quickly she got up, her
wand already in her hand. "Now you go sit down at the table, or
I'll make you."

William, hands tied, grinned, watching her
rather thin frame. "You'll make me?"

Her eyes became slits. Her wand pointed at
his legs. "You will walk to the table and sit down."

"Oh, sure," William said. A few seconds later
the grey velvet pants made him walk to the table and sit down.
"Hey, you witch!", he yelled at her as he was on the way.

"And you'd friggin' better know it!", she
called after him, a big fat grin on her face. This little victory
had made her day. And the night too.

"I won," said Hilda as the plates with food
floated towards the table. She gloated as she sat down, her face
showing her winning.

"What are you waiting for?", she then asked
as she was digging in.

William held up his tied hands, his face the
questionmark that ... his silent request.

"Oh. Of course. Sorry."

The rope changed into an apron again and fell
in William's arms. "Thank you ever so much," he said as he picked
up his fork.

"You are most welcome," the witch
grinned.

"Am I allowed to pour you some more tea, miss
Witch?"

Miss Witch frowned as she looked at her cup.
"Stupid fish," she muttered, then said: "Yes, please."

As William filled her cup again, he asked
about her remark concerning stupid fish.

Hilda grinned and pointed at the two
goldfish. "It's them. I suspect that they drink my tea at times.
They're magical, you see."

William, who'd been worrying about his eyes,
relaxed. "Oh, right. I thought it was me, thinking they moved
about."

"Actually it is you," Hilda nodded. "They're
curious about you, that's why they move about so much."

William stared at a goldfish that stared back
just as much.

After breakfast Hilda said she'd have to go
make the rounds again and invited William to come along. "That way
I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get hurt," was her
reasoning.

William wondered slightly about that. After
all, being inside a house felt more safe than riding a broom. He
forgot to include in that thought that he would be in a witch's
house. A wicked witch's house.

As they were ready to kick off, she asked if
there was somewhere special he'd like to go. "We're not doing the
shepherds today, I don't want to be predictable," she
elaborated.

"Not sure if it is too much of a detour, but
I really would like to get some more things from the truck."

"Okay, I can do that. You're better at flying
now, so we can go faster than the first time. What do you want to
get there?"

"My books." William smiled.

"I see. Book seller. Can't be without your
books. Not that anyone here would buy them, but you've got to have
your books." She giggled a bit, then straightened her face and they
left the ground.

"So, you think she's hitting on him?", one of
the goldfish asked the house. "he's definitely getting to her."

"Hmmm," replied the house, "it does seem so,
but the way they went about fighting this morning, I am not sure.
He is really sweet on her though, I can tell."

"The silly witch just is out of practice too
long and doesn't recognise the feeling anymore. Hah, she even
thought he has magic!" The goldfish chased each other around the
cup. "Bummer that she found out about the tea though..."

After the visit to the castle, without the
fountain race ("It's all about not being predictable") they swooped
over the village again. Nothing remotely interesting was going on
there, so they were soon on their way to the third point to
inspect.

"We're now going to Mirror Lake, so hold on.
This is going to be one wild ride." She laughed her laugh, so
William braced himself, and not in vain. The terrain that they flew
over was not rough or difficult, but Hilda was in a boisterous mood
and made the flight rough and difficult. She made them race over
the tops of trees, and they got so close by mountains that a sneeze
could make them crash into them. They sped just inches over the
ground. The wicked witch had to correct their lack of altitude
constantly, or their feet would be left behind somewhere.

"Holy Bejeebus!", William screamed as they
dove into a piece forest at astounding speed. More than once he
closed his eyes as he was certain that impending doom in the shape
of a massive tree was upon them. But each time Hilda managed to
maneuver them around, over and under branches and bushes.

Then they shot out of the forest and over an
immense grassland that lay around a lake. The brooms slowed down.
"Mirror Lake," Hilda said, pointing at the vast silvery expanse in
front of them.

"We are still alive," William said.

"Of course. Grump. Well, if you can't take
serious flying..."

Screaming with laughter Hilda's broom shot up
into the air while William's slowed down to nothing and landed him
on his feet.

"Jeebus," he said as he picked up the
broom.

Hilda was pulling her broom into a looping
and she was enjoying it. Her laughter reached all the way down, to
where her guest was. The wind hit her face, her hair waved behind
her and tugged at her head. Pressure from the G-forces she worked
up was pulling at her as she pushed her broom to the limit. Then
she toppled backwards, into the downward part of the looping, her
speed increasing to something insane. She loved what she was doing
and only at the last moment she yanked the broom up so it would not
land her six feet deep into the grass.

William saw her go and was scared and awed at
the same time by the impressive aerial stunt that she pulled
off.