book. "Amazing," she mumbled, her mind fully absorbed by the text and the illustrations. "Can't be real."
William felt left out a bit, but he watched her face as Hilda skimmed through the book, at times stopping her fast going through the book to read a page or a passage.
She looked at him, turning in his lap and putting an arm over his shoulder. "You picked the best book of the lot."
"What makes you say that?"
"It's alive. I can feel it. Here..." She took one of his hands and placed it on the page that she had studied only moments before. "Do you sense it?" With anticipation she regarded his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the page. If he sensed something, she knew, it would show in his eye first.
"Sorry... I don't feel it," he said, feeling disappointed. "I wish I could, but there's nothing."
Hilda shrugged. "It was worth the try. I could see you did not catch it. But it is nice that you tried it, sweet man." She kissed his cheek. "It's witchy stuff, after all. But take care of that book. It is alive."
"You keep saying that, but what do you mean by that? That it's magical?"
She shook her head, making her hair fly. "No. Not magical, but something that has the same charge. Argh, I wish I could explain this to you. It is the difference between a flower you picked from its stem and one that is still growing in the soil." Hilda looked at him, hoping that these words would make him understand. She saw they didn't.
She sighed. "Too bad... it is such a special thing to sense, my dear. But I have an idea. Let's go out and fly around a bit. To get out of the house and clear our heads."
William was game for that. Hilda went to prepare herself for flight as she was only wearing her housecoat. William looked at the book again. "Alive," he said, closing the book and touching the leather cover. "I wish it was alive enough to fix that wand." The book responded by cracking a tiny streak of lightning between the leather and his hand. "Ouch!"
"What?!", Hilda yelled from her room.
"The book just tried to electrocute me!" William stared at his palm where a tiny black mark was visible, the result of the uncanny discharge.
"It tried what?", asked Hilda as she came bolting down the stairs. "What's with your hand? How did you do that?" She saw the black mark also. William explained what had happened.
"Suck an elf," the witch frowned. "That is quite a special way of it to tell you it's alive. At least you felt it well," she grinned, her wicked streak popping to the surface. She touched the leather. Nothing happened. "It's still alive, so you did not kill it," she winked. "Come, poor hurt person, I'm going to turn you into a fly-boy!"
They got hold of their brooms and went outside for a bit of late afternoon flying.
"They're going to be amazed," Hilda chuckled as they lifted off, "I usually don't fly about this late!" Her shrieking laughter mixed with William's ordinary's laugh.
22. The village
The flying trip had been a relaxed one. No speeding, no wild tricks, just the wind in their faces, the sweet scent of flowers from the valleys below and the thrill of flying along with birds. Hilda had told her companion in flight that she liked to fly with the birds, as it was something that gave her a very peaceful feeling.
They had flown in silence for a while, each consumed by their own thoughts, when Hilda suggested they could land near the village and walk through it for a change. "I sometimes do that, to shock them, " she replied to his unspoken question. "It is so much fun to see the ordinaries act when the wicked witch is suddenly walking in their streets."
"Then let's do it," William said, winking at her before he pulled the hood over his head. "I'll be the silent mysterious wizard again."
"Good boy. Another reason to keep you," she chuckled as she turned the brooms and set course to the small patch of oaks where she intented to land. "Hold on, we'll have to squeeze through the branches, so this could become a bit rough."
Her warning was not in vain. The branches were full with leaves and despite the slow descent, there was a lot of tugging at their clothes. Hilda uttered a few curses that were new to William, and impressive too, as her dress got ripped.. When they were on the ground at last, he checked her clothes and found where the mishap had taken place. She quickly repaired the problem.
"I don't want to show myself with torn clothes," she said.
"I know, you have a reputation to keep up." William grinned.
"Indeed. But I should be all fine and shiny again now, so let's go and baffle them with our brilliance." She kissed him and showed him a dazzling smile. "That's for you, since it would look weird if we walk hand in hand in the village."
William adjusted his hood so his face was in the dark, and then they went into the village, the brooms floating behind them as a bonus.
"Show off," William whispered.
"Shush, you." Hilda grinned. "Just watch and have fun."
The first street they came in as they entered the village was rather a silent one. The right side of it was lined with low trees of a kind William had never seen. The trunks were grey-ish green, the bark was very rough as if someone had dragged a plow through it. The size of the trees was amazing also, the smallest looked as if it measured four feet in diameter.
On the left side of the street were houses, all low. They had just the ground floor, but were stretched out along several rooms that lay along the street. The houses were all built in rough red brick, without exception. The windows in them were small, most of them without curtains, but all of them had shutters in a wide variety of colours. The chimneys blew out the smoke of the fires, and occasionally the smell of food that was prepared inside.
The street they walked on was no more than sand with slabs of stone here and there, to give the surface the appearance of being flat.
William hardly had time enough to take it all in and there weren't even people in the street to behold. Otherwise he would certainly have been overloaded with impressions. The street was picturesque and to him it was the way that old English villages in the late 1600s would have been.
They walked through the quiet street in silence, not disturbing its peace. The street ended in a left turn, as ahead of them was a low wall, made of almost black wood. The street they entered was comparatively lively. William saw at least a dozen people. Some were standing and chatting, some were walking to a destination only they knew.
Hilda walked in the exact middle of the street, William next to her. The brooms followed them. Their appearing in the street seemed to trigger a wave of mild disturbance among the people they saw. All eyes were drawn to them as by magic. How appropriate. They passed a few of them, who stepped back to give them all the space they might possibly need.
William had wondered a bit about Hilda's behaviour, it made her look as if she felt superior. Now, he understood, she was the village witch, and that made a difference. As they walked by the people, William looked at them from the corner of his eye. They looked well fed and healthy, and also clean. That was not exactly what he would expect from a village in the 1600s. He noticed that the men just stepped aside. They did not turn away, so there was no exaggerated sense of awe or fear, which made him feel better.
The silent couple walked on until they reached a group of children that had been playing with hoops and balls. Now they stood watching the witch and her mysterious companion, like the adults, but with far less reserve and more open curiosity.
"Hello," said a little girl holding a thing made of straw and rags that had to be her doll. She wore a skirt of thick black fabric and a shirt over it that had once been yellow. Most of the colour had faded and there were many spots on it. She had sturdy shoes on her feet. Her hair, light brown with strange dark streaks, hung down in two braids over her shoulders. The girl had a tanned, round face and brown eyes.
Hilda looked at the girl and grinned. "Hello little girl."
"Who is your friend?"
"He is a wizard. He is here for a visit."
"Can he fix my
doll?" The girl held up the straw puppet.
"Uhm..." Hilda frowned. She had not prepared for something like this. The witch looked at William, her eyes sparkling blue again.
William stepped up to the girl and kneeled down in front of Hilda. He carefully took the puppet from the girls hand and held it up. He closed his eyes and hoped that Hilda would pick up his meaning. She was more than enough covered by him to do her magic without anyone noticing. Promptly the doll in his hands changed. It happened so fast and direct that it almost startled him, but he managed to limit his surprise to a small jolt in his arms. The straw was now covered by new fabric, giving the doll proper arms and legs again and a red dress.
To the people watching, it looked as if the change and the jolt were connected.
William handed the puppet back to the happy girl, who took the doll and quickly hid behind a larger boy, probably her brother.
From there, she said: "Thank you, wizard," treating Willliam and Hilda to a giant smile.
William nodded, a big smile on his face that was hidden from everyone's view. Then he looked at Hilda, who quickly winked at him. They walked on, the mumbling of people following them.
As they were out of earshot, Hilda whispered: "Damn, you handled that well! We're good together!"
"You're the one who's good, sweetheart," William agreed.
They reached the market square of the village, where a lively scene awaited them. Despite the late hour of the day, there