is tired, one part is all energy and roaring to go."

  "At least that part of you is behaving in a normal way," Hilda said, recalling how she had felt as she was learning all the magical things.

  After they had cleared the table, Hilda made a serious attempt to explain a few theoretical things about magic. That did not exactly go as either of them had hoped. Hilda's perspective was that of a witch who had been living amidst magic all her life. William's was that of a book salesman from a world where magic was considered something from fairy-tales, or the stuff that magicians the likes of David Copperfield would perform: incredibly artful, but obvious trickery.

  Hilda was getting more and more worked up and annoyed that all her efforts seemed to fall on deaf ears. William really tried hard, but most of Hilda's concepts simply had no basis in his knowledge.

  "I am really sorry, Hilda, but this so called simple thing you mentioned just now means really nothing to me." They were looking at one of Hilda's books, one that dealt with basic magic and protection. The page spoke of using air as a protective layer to ward off incoming projectiles, and Hilda had demonstrated how simple it was to conjure that up.

  The wicked witch groaned. "But you see how it works, don't you? I mean, you threw the arrow at me and it did not hit me, right?"

  "Yes, I did, and it didn't, but that does not make it a piece of cake for me to copy the trick, pretty witch." William read the passage in the book again. "It looks simple enough. Umbrea. I can say the word, but..."

  Hilda slumped back in her chair. "You need to use your imagination, William. Think of air coming around you and making a wall around you. There is no need to do it fast yet, it would just be very nice for me to know that you can protect yourself with that."

  William tried again, but the paper ball Hilda threw at him hit his chest. Again. With a muffled grunt he picked it up and threw it back at her. It bumped off her protection. "I really don't get it. Maybe you should throw an arrow at me." He leaned on the table and studied the page again.

  "I am not throwing arrows at you if you can't even defend yourself against pieces of paper." Hilda got up. "I'm going to watch the mirror. You, please, keep trying this. Okay?"

  She took his hands in her face. "You're mine, William, and I aim to keep you for a very long time, so don't you get any funny ideas in your head about getting yourself killed because you can't defend yourself." Hilda pressed a hard kiss on his lips. Then she let go and sat down in front of her mirror.

  No matter where she looked, however, she could not stop thinking about William's inability to handle protection. That was crucial. Not at the moment, but with the challenge coming closer every day...

  29. Protection

  The next morning. The couple was outside, ready to go do the rounds.

  "Very well, mister Breakneck. If you want to try that, be my guest, but don't come whining when you fall on your face. See, that also is where protection comes in handy." Hilda stood looking at William, hands akimbo. He had announced that he wanted to try and lift off by himself. "And don't get me wrong when I stand to the side a bit, okay?"

  William nodded, waited until Hilda had reached a place that she deemed safe and mounted his broom. This morning he felt well rested. He closed his eyes to sense the magic inside him, and once he had located it he let it flow. It was there, it lived inside him and it wanted to do things for him, William knew. He held the broom with both hands and made the magic go into it.

  At first there was a mere slight tremble. Then the broom wanted to go and it told the wizard in training, who kicked off. The broom lifted William up. Until then everything was going amazingly smooth. There was just one detail missing: the soft and protective layer of air around, and most importantly, under him. The broomstick pressed hard into his genitals and pants-area.

  William gasped for air, forgot to hold on to the broom, tipped over, and as he went down, the broom went up.

  Had it been a contest, the broom would have won with ease. It shot up at least twelve feet with William's weight not holding it down, where William only fell three feet.

  Hilda held back a scream, the fall had happened much sooner than she had anticipated. She squeezed her eyes for a moment as William hit the ground, declaring it an 'oompf'. The 'ouch' sounded just a bit later as the broom, lacking magical inspiration, came down to its lord and master that lay in a heap.

  With all dangers gone, Hilda walked over to the fallen pilot. "Very subtle, William. This reminded me of a flying mallet."

  "Since when do mallets fly?", the man in blue asked from his undignified position.

  "Exactly."

  William got the hint. He got up, brushed the sand and grass from his robe and picked up the broom. "I assume there is something you want to say to me?", he asked, knowing that she had every reason to have a go at him.

  Hilda shook her head. "I think we're all in the clear now. I'll do the flying for now and you work on protecting your ass." The sparkles in her eyes emphasised her meaning: they were red.

  As they were on their way, Hilda loosely remarked: "Really, William, protection is very imperative. Did you know that Babs is a master in that field? I could ask her over to help you." His inner reaction made her giggle. She knew now that she had a powerful incentive to make him work on it.

  William was thinking about the idea of air compacting around himself. In physics-books he had read about compacting air, but that required large amounts of pressure. He was convinced that Hilda used another trick. No way that she would know about pressure and containers with air, like pressurised tanks.

  "You are thinking about things of your own world, aren't you?", Hilda asked, her broom close to William's. She couldn't understand most of the things she sensed coming from him through the link. The link, she thought, that so far only worked one way.

  "Yes, I am trying to think of things that might help me get this protection bit going. I am not making much progress with the air that you insist on."

  "Yes, okay. That is good. At least you're busy with it. Maybe in a bit you can tell me what people in your world use for protection, but now you'd better play along. The castle is coming up and I have a feeling that Walt wants to play."

  "I got the message, sweetheart, I'll sit back and you do the stunts."

  "Cool puppies," said Hilda, a grin on her face. "Just you keep that hood on your head, and I don't care how you do it."

  They swooped in over the moat again, this time Hilda made the brooms leap over the castle walls without stressing the guards, though. The guards, new ones at the gate but they had heard about the exercise theirfellows had already had, kept out of sight. Hearing about that was quite enough for them.

  Walt, the king, was outside and sat on one of the low marble benches that surrounded the magnificent fountain. "Ah... there you are," he said as the two figures floated over the water-display. His face brightened at the sight of the witch and her silent companion. "I have been waiting for you... I have a new challenge,Grimhilda, and I feel that this time I will win."

  Hilda leaned forward, resting an elbow on the bristles of her broom and putting a hand on the palm of her raised hand. "Is that for real, my dearest king? I am game, and so is my friend the wizard. But tell me... how does your wife like her dancing shoes?"

  Walt's face clouded slightly. "Sometimes I have to tie her hands behind her back, she discovered that if she puts things in her ears, she does not hear the music and then she doesn't have to dance. But hey, we live and learn, don't we? Even she does."

  Hilda caught the gleam in the king's eye and she knew he was all prepared to get them.

 

  Walt's hand slowly moved to the white handkerchief that lay on the seat next to him. Then quickly he grabbed it and waved it while shouting: "Now, now, now!"

  From behind shrubs men and women came running with buckets of water, and inside the castle someone was working like a sod to increase the pressure on the pipes that fed the fountain.

  Hilda
shrieked her laugh as she made the brooms jump upwards, while the water-bucket people tried to throw the contents of their carry-on vessels over them.

  William had perceived the tension building up and all kinds of memories shot through his head. At the moment that Hilda made their brooms tilt upwards, a vision of an airshow floated in front of William's eyes, where he had once seen two jets revolve around each other while red and blue smoke came from something on their tail wings. The sudden rush, and the brooms lifting up straight made him apprehend that sensation. The magic that was waking up inside him was caught by the idea. Hilda sensed it also, picked up on the idea and shrieked even harder. As she made their brooms revolve around each other, William made coloured smoke trail from behind the brooms. Purple from Hilda's, yellow from his.

  The cheers that came from below and the applause that followed were the icing on the cake that the thrill of the ascent had already provided them with.

  "William, that was shiny!", Hilda exclaimed as they had reached the highest point of their climb. She looked back at the smoke that was being chased around by the wind, the yellow and purple mixing and making a stunning show before it disappeared. "How did you do that? Tell me later, we're going to stick our tongue out at Walt first."

  They spiraled downwards, without smoke.

  "Very nice try, king," Hilda said. "You almost had us there." It wasn't true, but she