Hilda the Wicked Witch
Hilda felt satisfied and full as she got up. "I need my broom now. I have to find my necklace in order to find a way to get back home."
The two elderly people exchanged glances again. "Of course, dear, just follow me and I will hand you your broom."
Hilda grabbed her shoulder bag from the improvised bed and walked through the corridor, following Tilly. The broom was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall next to the backdoor. When she saw it, she was even more convinced that these people were magical: they had put the broom up in the correct way, with the bristles up.
"There you go, child," Tilly said. "Do take care. I am sure you'll find your necklace."
"Indeed," said the old man. "After all, you have your ball again."
"Yes." The wicked witch held the broom close to her body, quickly energising it for the flight. "I have to thank you for your generous help." The words were hard for her as wicked witches usually don't need help, but she had to show courtesy or these people could make her life hell. She knew that from experience.
"Good luck, young woman," the ancient mage said. "Godspeed."
Hilda was not sure what he meant but it had to be a good thing, so she nodded. Then bowed. Carefully. She took two steps backwards, as the rules of obedience prescribed. She didn't follow them often, but in this case there was a good reason. Then she turned and walked off to a place where she could question the crystal ball.
The two people looked at the grey-haired young woman as she walked down the street. "Poor deranged kid," Tilly said. "Perhaps we should have called the doctor or something."
The old man shook his head. "She'll be fine. She's just a bit crazy, nothing really dangerous, I am sure about it."
Tilly shrugged. "Come back inside, ancient one, it's time for your arthritis pills."
-=-=-
As Hilda walked away from the house of the two old magicians, she was surprised how well these two had their magical abilities under control. Even with careful probing she had not found any trace of magic in them. Their shields had to be phenomenal. Her mind was already racing. She went over the right spells to seduce the crystal ball into telling its secrets, as she was looking for a good place to sit and actually perform the seeing. She passed a tavern that had a sign stating "Coffee" outside the door. Intrigued by the drink, she went inside and found a small table at the back, a bit secluded and out of view. She had barely sat herself down, when someone came to her table.
The waiter frowned at the broom, but didn't feel obliged to make a comment about that. "What can I get you?"
"Coffee, of course," said Hilda, wondering why the man bothered to ask. "It says outside that you have this drink."
"Sure. What kind? Regular, strong, mocha, latte?"
"Do you have the kind with extra Arabica added to the normal roast?" This was her trick question.
"Nope. Just regular, strong, mocha and latte."
"Then bring me regular. You may go." Hilda waved her hand.
After another frown the waiter left her alone, wondering what kind of weirdo had come in just now.
Hilda took the ball from her pocket and placed it on the table. She thought it best to wait until the servant had brought her the beverage. Then she could seal off her area and start her quest with the crystal.
The waiter came with the coffee, put it on the table and looked at the ball for a few seconds. The look that the witch rewarded him with was convincing enough to make him retreat to the main area of the restaurant with haste. A snip of her fingers was then all it took to magically separate her table from the rest of the place. Hilda sipped the coffee. "Urgh. No Arabica. There is no witch or wizard at work here, I know that." She was grateful that her knowledge of this strange land was growing so rapidly. If the unfortunate would happen and she could not return to her own land, she'd have to linger in this place for a while after all, and knowing things was important in that case. She dreaded the idea though.
Hilda closed her eyes for a moment, her hands on the table, thumbs up and palms towards the crystal ball. Slowly she envisioned her necklace, interspersing it with the desire to have it back. Show me, crystal ball, where the necklace is. Where is my property, my means to return to my homeland...
Patiently she worked up the power, drawing energy from the coffee that went cold and white, and from the strange light in a ball that was over her head. When warmth spread in her palms, Hilda opened her eyes and looked at the crystal. There were images forming. First there was a fog, swirling and dancing in a mesmerising manner. Hilda leaned over the table, until her nose was almost against the ball. The images were there, very clear, but suck an elf, they were so small! In the ball Hilda saw a movement. Hair was flying, there was wind and motion, and a roar she had heard before. It was like the roar of the caged animal in the metal cart. Then, and there her heart jumped, she saw her necklace. It was found. It rested on skin, which was good. That would keep it somewhat alert at least. "Where is the skin," she mumbled, "where is the movement, the roar... show me..." Her voice dropped so low that only a mere crackle came from her throat, but the crystal ball understood her.
The necklace, her dear, lost necklace, was around the neck of one of the women from the sad gang of ruffianfools. They were travelling on their two-wheeled contraptions. Hilda needed her self-control to take hold of her desire. She fought it while it was twisting to get away from her, urging her to go out, jump on the broom and charge upon these miscreants. This was not the time for rushed actions.
Calm on the surface, but seething underneath her skin, she looked around for clues where the travelling gang was. There were wide roads with white lines on them. There were wide open spaces to the left of the road, and hills to the right. There was a smell of flowers. More and more tiny details came to her, from the small images that unfolded before her inside the crystal ball. Announcements on poles on the side of the road, in screaming colours and large letters. Fenced-in cattle here and there. More and more she became familiar with the area, with its position compared to where she was now. This part of the planning was crucial: staking out the proper territory where the hunt was going to be staged. She had to get this right the first time.
Crystal balls are quite fickle. Charging the ball itself is already hard work. Storing all the energy in such a sphere is difficult and can even be dangerous, as the slightest unevenness in the crystalline structure may cause a rupture in the object, and unleash the energy that's been stored in it already. Add to that the effect of crystal splinters flying all around at high speed, and you have an idea of the problems of that phase already. Then there is the area in which you use a crystal ball. It has to be free of unwanted energies, powers that can interfere or influence the imagery that the ball is able to show. Worst of all, as you may understand, is the fact that something a ball just refuses to work.
Hilda however was a professional. She knew witchcraft, and witchcraft knew her. They went back a long time together, and her powers did not let her down. She slowly developed a feel for the area that the gang was riding through. There was no mistake possible now; she knew where she had to go. Slowly she sat up again and let her hands slide to the sides of the small table. The images in the crystal ball dissipated, turned into the grey fog again for a short while, and then they faded entirely.
"Very good, my little precious one," Hilda said as she tucked the ball in a small pocket of her shoulder bag. "We shall rise up and find this person Bubba and his bride. We'll retrieve the necklace. And then..."
The shield that she had put up had hidden all her actions from the people in the restaurant. The cackling laughter that she uttered was not held back by the shield though. Hilda had not taken that little fact into account; she'd never had the need. With the coffee gone bad there was no reason for her to drink it. She got up, dropped the shielding and was stared at by at least a dozen people. Hilda stared back at them. As this was not meant to become a stand-off, she just picked up her broom and started walking through the main area of the restaurant, eyes divert
ing as she passed the people who were directing said eyes. There was one person who did not divert his eyes and that was the waiter. "Miss, you forgot to pay. One regular coffee."
That halted Hilda dead in her tracks. Pay. She knew what it was, but she was not used to it, and she was not inclined to pick up the habit in this strange place. But she was in a hurry too. Conscience and urge were battling. Conscience won. She manifested a gold coin and put it on a table. "This should cover the expense, but never stop me for such foolishness again, unless you desire to be a toad," she warned the man. Her nose wiggled. With a look that prophesied doom she walked out of the restaurant. As the waiter stared at the coin, several people got up, trying to see what this weird woman with her broom was up to next. The waiter tried to walk to the door and found that his shoes were firmly attached to the floor.
Hilda mounted the broom and shot into the air. Far below her three cars crashed into each other, as their respective drivers had a momentary lack of attention for traffic, seeing a woman and her broomstick mocking one of the most basic laws of nature they knew.
-=-=-
Higher and higher she rose, flying in wide, concentric circles, peering out into the distance. The biggest mistake most beginning witches made was to think that flying a broom was easy. Hilda knew that the actual going up and making the broom move was not hard, indeed. But finding your way when you are high up in the sky, where everything looks different and where you often lack clues of where you are, was a completely different animal. Many a young witch had drifted off to the big seas, or into some obscure mountain range, and wasn't heard or seen ever again.
The wicked witch was experienced in these things though, and it did not take her long to see what route she had to take to catch up with the brutes on their roaring contraptions. She urged the broom to a speed that was only feasible for the best flyers. A tremble, a shake, a cough, anything like that could mean an end to a flight at speeds like this one, but it was necessary. Hilda wanted to retrieve what she wanted so desperately.
After a long flight, things started to look familiar. The large sign, green, with big black letters. A field with cattle. A large red sign with two connected golden arches. And then, finally, in the distance, she saw the six monster-carts with only two wheels...
7. I told you to stop