Hilda - Snow White revisited (13 page)

"Do I look peaceful?", Hilda enquired.

The small man turned and ran.

After they had gotten their artillery in
position, Hilda magicked herself in her slinky dress. Baba Yaga
walked around her a few times and approved fully. "You're going to
knock 'm dead, Hilly," she said. "The red shoes are a nice touch
too. You know, I've been wondering about painting some of the
skulls on my fence red. Just to make a difference for a while."

Hilda grinned and watched how Baba Yaga changed
her travelling clothes into a traditional black dress, complete
with large pointy hat. "Your dresses never change, do they,
Babs?"

"Oh, I just like them and they make me feel
good," the old witch grinned, "just like the old days." She
conjured up a large femur, tall enough to be a cane, and dressed
for battle like that, they made their way to the central space
where the meeting was going to be held.

The central space was already prepared for the
most part. As usual, Strega Nona and Granny Weatherwax had taken
the top off the mountain, giving the witches all the space they
needed to work in. That and the moon always being full were the
signs for the good citizens of the kingdom that there were spooky
things at hand again that night.

Hilda and Baba Yaga stood quietly at the side of
the field to take everything in.

Frau Holle was sitting near a small fire, making
sure the coffee and tea were not toppling over. She was not wearing
a traditional witchy outfit. A dress with flowers on, a white apron
and a silly white hat to keep her grey-brown hair in control. She
had already noticed the two new arrivals and quickly waved. That
rushed action almost made the tea fall over.

"She still hasn't gotten that trick down," Hilda
said. "I'm not offering to teach her again, she keeps declining.
Makes me sick. But then, looking at that makes me sick also..."

In the middle of the open space stood a thin
witch with flaxen hair, staring up at the moon, making gestures and
mumbling spells. She wore a long white straight dress without any
adornments or marks of witchdom. The moon was so low that the witch
could almost push it up. It was still pink. Slightly brighter,
but...

Mother Elderberry and Nanny Ogg were fussing
over something or other near the picnic table. Granny Weatherwax
was nowhere to be seen, but that happened more often. The only two
that were not present were Berchta and Glenda the Good Witch.

"Let's join all the fun," Baba Yaga said,
grabbing Hilda by the arm and plowing the top of the mountain with
her femur-cane as they started walking over to Mother
Elderberry.

"Well, well, you did come," was the greeting for
the two witches. "We had no idea that you would take the
trouble."

"Come on, Mother Elderberry, we're as much part
of the crew as you are. Kicks the shit out of me why you asked
Rumpelstiltskin over though. That vermin is not a witch," Hilda
countered. "Not even a halfway proper replacement for Babs or
me."

"Hilda, calm down please," said Nanny Ogg. "We
are really pleased that you have come over. Most of what happened
last year is forgiven and- well, let's not talk about that anymore.
Welcome to the meeting, ladies. If you want some refreshments, Frau
Holle is in charge of the beverages this evening."

"Not a very lucky choice, is it?", commented
Baba Yaga, as they saw the coffeepot slip and its contents almost
extinguish the fire it was over.

"Oh, well, she is doing her best," Nanny Ogg
tried to make things less bad.

"Berchta and Glenda not here yet? Or did they
cancel?", asked Hilda.

"They should come, they confirmed so that should
be fine," said Mother Elderberry.

Hilda and Baba Yaga trotted over to the
tea-corner and were served by a remarkably nervous Frau Holle.

"Are you going to make a mess of things again?",
the tea-witch asked, setting a very unfriendly tone.

"Nah," said Hilda, "nothing we can do would
equal what you are trying here."

"Hilly, please," her friend tried to calm her
down.

A bright light made everyone look at Magrat
Garlick. And at the moon that was now desert-sand yellow and slowly
coming down even more.

"Hey, Magrat, need a hand?", Hilda called
out.

The thin white witch looked at her with the
makings of panic in her eyes. "Yes. Please..."

Hilda brought out the wand and walked over to
the witch in distress. "What are you trying here?"

"Uhm, it should be kind of white, and higher up.
Especially higher up."

The latter was rather obvious. The moon seemed
to touch the top of the mountain already. Hilda poked it with her
wand. "And up you go, back to where you belong!"

Nothing happened. "Are you sure this works?",
Magrat asked, never taking her eyes off the immense looming
object.

"Yeah, no worries, just takes a moment in
English. I hate Latin, you see." As Hilda spoke, the moon started
to move up, faster and faster, until it was back high up in the
sky.

"So, now the colour... Bright white?"

"A kind of pastel beige would be nice," Magrat
managed to make Hilda grunt.

"So, bright white it will be," the wicked witch
said. She said the spell, hit the moon with it, and the entire
landscape bathed in a silvery white light, making the sun wonder
what it was still doing there. "Much better. And you need to
practice, kid. Seriously. And start with smaller things. This is a
few sizes too large for you."

"Impressive, Hilly," said a small man that had
come up to her without a sound.

In one fluent motion Hilda turned, aimed and
made Rumpelstiltskin fly through the air, landing him in a group of
thorny bushes. "I told you not to call me that," she said, putting
away the wand.

"Grimhilda!", Mother Elderberry screamed, "that
is not a way to treat a guest!" She magicked Rumpelstiltskin out of
his painful position and cast an angry look at the wicked
witch.

"I warned him not to call me that or he'd suffer
the consequences. Now he suffers the consequences." Hilda showed no
remorse whatsoever.

"Child, we do want this meeting to be a peaceful
event, remember?"

Hilda swallowed the "child", as Mother
Elderberry was a very old and very respected witch, but did say
that she had not started it. "If mr Big there keeps his trap shut,
I'm fine. Just warn him." She threw back her long grey hair and
ignored the little man who was picking thorns from his private
parts.

17. When witches
meet

After the painfully bad start, everyone did
their utmost to make things nicer. For Hilda that meant that she
would try to keep her sharp tongue under control. Baba Yaga was
frowning over her girlfriend's behaviour a few times, but could
understand her annoyance with the little prick with the spinning
wheel fixation.

Berchta and Glenda had arrived also. They had
run into a bit of a storm that had thrown their brooms off course,
so they had had a bit of a struggle to find their way, but "all's
well that ends well," Glenda said with her perpetual smile.

Glenda looked splendid and brilliant, as ever.
Her dress was white as pure snow, flowed around her like a cloud.
The silvery effects in the fabric heightened the shine. The high
pointy hat, white also, had long silvery veils hanging from it, and
carefully applied magic provided that they never were in Glenda's
way.

Berchta, the friendly witch from the north, wore
her usual brown pants and a comfy red shirt. She lived in the
mountains, and long flowing dresses made it impossible to get
around there, according to her. Hilda had always suspected that
Berchta should have been a boy. The northern witch had her hair
short and in a lot of braids with beads woven into them.

"What's that?", Baba Yaga asked, as she noticed
the beads. She took one of them between her boney fingers.

"Oh, isn't that progressive?", Berchta asked. "I
have seen that somewhere and I thought it to be so cute that I had
to try it myself."

"Your hair is a bit short for braids," Hilda
remarked.

"I know," Berchta giggled, which gave the wicked
witch the creeps. "But there's nothing that magic can't fix when
the hairdresser gives up."

"Ladies? Can we start, or is your tea-chatter
too important to interrupt?", Strega Nona asked, tapping her
fingernail on a hovering broom and looking impatient.

"Wanna try me?", Hilda fired up immediately,
striding up to the southern bad witch and standing almost nose to
nose with her.

"Oh deary," said Nanny Ogg. "Come on, ladies,
peaceful event, do you remember?"

Witchy adrenalin only lowers slowly, so there
was the need for a bit of time before both Hilda and Strega Nona
had cooled down again.

The witches and the still sore little man
assembled in the middle of the open space, where Granny Weatherwax
welcomed everyone, after which she invited Magrat Garlick to cast
the magic circle.

Magrat thanked her, took out a really amazing
big knife and made a circle with that, slicing a rift in the ground
around the people attending the meeting.

Hilda kept all her snide remarks to herself,
seeing the skinny witch go round.

The meeting then got on the way, with everyone
talking about the things they had done, the novelties they had
discovered either by themselves or the once that were proudly found
elsewhere. Of course, the short gossip-moment could not be
forgotten.

Nanny Ogg and Mother Elderberry had taken the
roles of hostesses onto themselves and were going round with tea,
coffee and home-made cookies.

Frau Holle went off on a tangent as she was
describing new ways to build wishing wells, but nobody minded
really, as she had a very funny accent and that made the entire
story quite humourous to listen to.

Rumpelstiltskin had a small show prepared in
which he had an automatic spinning wheel that could not only
produce gold, but also silver and silk from straw.

"Neat," Hilda had to admit, "but you can only
have so much gold and silver. I can see where the silk comes in
handy, though." She was already imagining a silk nightgown. With
skulls and bears.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "You are not moving in
the right circles to see the advantage of lots of gold and silver,
that is obvious. I, on the other hand, rub elbows with kings and
queens."

Hilda's eyes reduced themselves to slits. "You -
say - what?" Slowly she got up and stared at the small man with the
head full of hair.

Rumpelstiltskin, obviously unaware of the
extremely thin ice he was venturing out on, repeated his words.
"See, royalty is always up for the glittery stuff."

Hilda, hands on her hips, shook her head.
"Listen, buster, I don't know your kind of royalty, but mine has
other things on their mind than gold and silver. They are people
who care about things. Perhaps not the right things, but they take
responsibility for what they do. And when they neglect that, that's
where I come in and bend things a bit. So don't give me that crap
about rubbing elbows with royalty. I talked to the king a lot
lately."

Her face a thundercloud, she sat down again,
glaring angrily at the small man.

"Tut, tut, tut," said Granny Weatherwax, "this
perhaps was a bit uncalled for..."

"Think so?", Hilda snapped, holding back the
rest as Baba Yaga and Strega Nona both put hands on her
shoulders.

"Calm down, girlfriend," said Babs, "no good in
making people angry. Not this kind of people anyway, okay?"

Hilda grumbled something which was probably very
offending but it was also so quiet that nobody had to take
offense.

Rumpelstiltskin was quite shaken up by the
interruption; he just barely managed to twist things into an end
and sat down. Far away from Hilda. He had not forgotten his airtrip
into the bushes and he was certainly not looking forward to a
repetition of it.

Strega Nona then brightened things up by making
a group of musical instruments float around. They accompanied her
in a few songs she was singing; songs from her country, with rather
naughty lyrics. That was something Hilda appreciated very much, and
she sat clapping her hands to the rhythm.

Berchta then went into a lecture about moss and
its use in magic.

Hilda kept her mouth shut, exchanging meaningful
glances with Baba Yaga.

By and by all the witches performed or talked
about something, until only the wicked witch and her illustrious
girlfriend had not been up for their part of the show. The two
looked at each other and nodded.

"We will need a few moments to prepare our bit,"
Baba Yaga said as they got up. "Perfect time for more coffee, tea
or something stronger."

That was accepted with a cheer from the others.
Rumpelstiltskin was up very quickly and made his way to the large
drinks cabinet that was there to be plundered.

Meanwhile , Hilda and Babs brought in the
massive cauldron and all the other goodies they had been working
on. This was going to be the paramount of displays on this meeting.
They readily ignored the fact that it had supposed to be during the
last meeting also. That event had literally blown up in everyone's
face. Nothing like that should happen this time.

After setting up their improvised stage, Hilda
noticed that the attendants to the spectacle had not forgotten last
time. They sat around the area, but at more a respectful than
respectable distance.

As the two witches were fussing over the last
preparations, there were several whispering conversations going on
among the spectators.

"Do you think they are afraid that we're setting
them on fire again?", Hilda asked Baba Yaga.

"Wouldn't really surprise me, after last time,"
Baba Yaga replied. "We did a helluva job on that then. I am
honestly surprised that they let us do the closing boom again this
time."

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