Hilda - The Challenge (2 page)

Afterwards Lamador had sulked for weeks, as
the dragon had not only broken most of the sorcerer, but also his
favourite wand.

The judges had called the challenge a draw,
Hilda remembered and became furious about that decision once again.
She had clearly been on the winning hand, she was convinced of
that. There had only been three more long corridors filled with
unpleasant creatures she would have had to take out. And some
twnety-four dragons. And a small army of ghouls. And Lamador, of
course.

More and more angry about the whole thing,
she grabbed a broom, charged outside and shot into the air as a
raging bullet.

"Bye bye," said the house, "and be
careful."

Less than a minute later Hilda was back.

"That was quick," said the house.

"Shut up, just forgot something," the wicked
witch growled, ran in, grabbed her crystal ball, and ran out again
stuffing the object in a pocket of her cloak. Then she flew off
again, cloak flapping.

"She's really got it bad," the door mumbled,
closing the door.

Inside the house, a cup with two goldfish on,
disagreed with the house. "She needs it bad. We've been saying that
for ages."

Hilda was not aware of the fact that she was
the subject of discussion between her house and her teacup. She was
heading for the mountains. And that in more than one way. Yes, she
was on the run, but she was also going towards the mountains that
were in the east of king Walt's realm. Nobody in their sane mind
went there, as it was known that there be witches.

The joke was, of course, that there was only
one witch in the mountains, being Hilda, and she had brought the
rumour to life herself. She was not there full-time, but wanted
that area as a retreat if she wanted to think. Or try out new
stuff. Or, occasionally, sit there and be scared for a while. Now
was one of these occasions.

She landed her broom on a high peak. The view
from there, she knew, was breathtaking. The wind however was
breathtaking too today. Not being a feeble little witch, Hilda
magicked up a chair and was determined to sit and enjoy the
mountain view, but before she could sit down, the wind had taken
the chair away and was toying with it. Hilda stared at the object
plummeting into the depths as it was on its very erratic
course.

"Not a good start," the wicked witch tried to
say, but even her words fell victim to the wind's playful mood. It
obviously was smarter to find a location that would not eventually
rip all clothes from her body.

It was a tricky lift-off, against the wind,
but Hilda was practically born and raised on a broom. She made it
to the lower plain, a shielded plateau almost a quarter mile long
with steep rocky walls around it. Granted, the view was not as
stunning here, but being able to breathe was worth the
compromise.

She magicked up a new chair, one that
remained in place. She sat down on it. Wiggled her behind a few
times to make sure it was stable. Nodded.

Hilda popped out her wand and arranged for a
table with some hot tea and cupcakes. There also was a small red
cushion on which she placed her crystal ball. It was essential now.
She was determined to contact a few people that might have tips for
her.

The teapot had filled a cup for her and she
picked it up. Sipping and thinking in silence, her eyes wandered
over the rocks, the high peaks around. It was good to sit here.

Suddenly her crystal ball sang to her.

Curious who that could be, Hilda put down her
tea and waved over the ball. "Talk to me," she invited the
caller.

"Hello," a very sophisticated voice said as
the emblem of a very prominent school for witchcraft and magic
appeared in the ball. "I would like to know why Tommy has not
reported in. His classes have started already."

The wicked witch grinned. "Well, maybe
because I ate him," she said to the emblem.

"Oh. Really. How inconvenient. I will take
this down and relay the information. Thank you."

The emblem faded and Hilda snickered. "Stupid
person, not knowing how to contact someone." There could be no
mercy for people like that.

"Bert? It's me, William. I am making tracks.
If all keeps going as well as it does now, I should make it in
time."

Bert Bantrey, bookshop-owner, was pleased to
hear William's voice. "William, good to hear that. I am looking
forward to seeing you again. As I said before, I have some real
treasures here, you will be very happy to get your hands on
them."

William Connoley was driving down the road,
his face slightly burnt from the sunshine. The break he had taken,
sitting in the sunshine and eating his lunch, had left its
traces.

"I'll have a look after dinner, Bert, for now
it is still quite a number of miles I have to travel. Would you
care to reveal where or what we are going to eat?"

Bert laughed. "Of course, since you ask.
There is a new Greek restaurant in town since a while, and I have
been sampling their menu. It is exquisite, as is their wine
chart."

That was William's cue to laugh, recognising
one of the small vices of his friend. "Well, you'd better make sure
you do not drink them dry before we've been there, Bert. I'll call
you again when I am able to tell you more precisely when I will
arrive."

"That's fine, William. We'll talk again.
Drive carefully."

William grinned. Bert never changed.

Hilda had spoken to several witches. All fine
women. She had spoken with the few warlocks she knew that might
have tips for her. The list with ideas was well-filled, but she had
not scratched away the double ones. Or the ridiculous ones. Okay,
the ridiculous ones could stay for a while, as she was in a very
strange situation once again.

As she read the list once more, a feeling of
unease came over her. It was unease mixed with feeling
underpowered. And that was a bad combination.

"Isn't there fucking no one who can help
me?", she shouted out to the crystal ball. In a suddenly
manifesting frenzy Hilda the witch jumped up from her chair and
cast an enraged ball of magical fire towards one of the far steep
mountainsides. "I can't face this crap alone!"

Her words were lost in the thunder that
erupted from the rocks as her spell, cast in anger and fear, hit.
The mere impact already made the mountain shake, but the blast of
fire and magic that were comprised in the bolt had an even greater
effect. Several hundred yards high, the top of the mountain
trembled.

The pressure of the blast lashed back to
where there was space. It did not mind that there was also Hilda
who was not paying attention. The witch was pushed away as if she
was a feather, as were the chair and the table including its
contents. Cupcakes flew everywhere. The large pillar of massive
stone moaned as chipped-off fragments weighing several tons came
thrashing downwards, making the solid ground shake even more.

Hilda covered her head with her hands. This
was no time to bring up a wand, because there simply was no time
for that. "Umbrae!", she shouted, "give me friggin' umbrae!"

The odd combination of English and Latin
decided that there was more need for action than for the drama of
the delayed effect of the English. A protective layer of solid air
formed around the witch, which brought the agonising rain of rubble
and stones on her body to an end.

"Crap, crap, crappedy crap," Hilda cursed as
she dared to lift her head and look at what she had wreaked. The
work of the Angel of the Abyss would have been less
devastating.

Just when she thought it was over, a roaring
sound hit her ears. "Oh no," Hilda groaned. She did not know the
sound, but it was loud enough to mean even more trouble.

Smoke billowed up and the roar changed a bit.
Then a large 4x4 pickup truck shot out of the smoke, the man behind
the wheel doing all he could to avoid the boulders that were in his
way. The fast trip over the rocky plateau came to an end when the
truck smashed into the rock on the other side of it. The roar
ended.

Hilda had watched the roaring contraption
with its large wheels and high speed do its slalom through the
boulders. The whack that echoed over the plateau as it hit the
granite side of the mountain made her squeeze her eyes. "Ouch. That
must have hurt," she was certain.

The wicked witch remained on her belly, her
eyes shut, her nose in the dust and her protective layer of solid
air over her until she was absolutely sure that this strange wagon
was the last thing that would happen.

As finally the sounds had gone back to the
soft blowing of the wind, she removed the protection and got to her
feet. She inspected herself. "Damn. Another tear in the skirt." She
sighed. Then she looked at the cart. It was blue and silver. And
huge. It stood proud on black wheels, in their centre what had been
gleaming silver caps. Now they were mere caps, somehow hanging
on.

Hilda frowned. There had not been a horse in
front of it. Then her eyes became large: she remembered where she
had seen such a thing before! It had been at that weirdest of times
when she had been sucked into that insane world, where people did
not recognise a witch if she spit them in the eyes!

"Impossible," she mumbled. Her wand appeared
in her hand, as one could never be too careful with this kind of
close encounters.

As she approached the vehicle, she saw that
there were indeed glass windows everywhere around it. None of them
allowed a peek inside, as there was dust all over them, and not a
square inch of glass had remained unscratched. The front of the
thing was very warm. Hilda used her wand on it, to cool it down.
Then she slowly reached out to the handle of the door and pulled
it. The door did not move. She pulled harder. The door moved just
as little.

"Open up, you stupid thing," Hilda said,
pointing the wand at the door. A few seconds later the door clicked
out of its lock and slowly swung open. From inside the vehicle came
a groaning, moaning sound. There was someone inside it.

Hilda carefully pulled the door open, her
wand aimed and ready.

A man pushed himself up from the round thing
he had been leaning against, moaning some more. Then he looked at
Hilda.

Hilda looked at him. He looked at Hilda.

Two voices at the same time said: "You?!"

The two gaped at each other for a while. Then
Hilda asked: "How did you get here?"

William, who examined his nose and cheeks for
broken parts, replied: "I was hoping you could tell me that." As
his face seemed umblemished, he undid his seatbelt and carefully
climbed from his truck.

The man looked around, to see where he had
ended up. "Good grief, what happened here? Did I miss a
stone-throwing contest of giants?"

"No giants here. Not anymore anyway," Hilda
enlightened William, still staring at him in disbelief. "Now tell
me how you got here, and why?" That also was something Hilda
wondered about.

"How I got here..." William rubbed his face.
"Hell if I know, Hilda. I really don't know. I was driving along in
my truck" -he looked at the sad remains- "when all of a sudden the
small crystal ball you left started singing. I can't call it
anything else, it was singing. I tried to reach for it when
suddenly there were loud sounds around me like explosions,
lightning cracked all around the car and things went dark outside.
Then all of a sudden I saw a faint light, drove on towards it and
the closer I got, the faster the car went. I didn't have to a thing
for that, it just drove itself. And then it shot out of that dark
tunnel and I had to work the wheel like crazy to avoid those rocks
back there." William sighed. "Could have saved me the trouble if
you ask me."

"I did not ask you about trouble," Hilda
remarked. Then she recalled something. "Oh no. Don't tell
me..."

"Tell you what? I just told you-"

"Shut up," Hilda invited him to be quiet. She
turned and ran back to where her table had last been. "Crappedy
crap, where is it!" Frantically she looked around for her own
crystal ball. It did not show itself.

The witch pulled out her wand as William
scurried closer. "Come here, you."

"Okay, I am already here," William said,
raising his hands just to be on the safe side.

Hilda whirled around and faced him. "Not you!
Argh!" She shook her head and waved her wand. "Come here, ball!'
She held out her hand, and a few seconds later the crystal ball
freed itself from the rubble it had gotten buried under. It raised
itself into the air, whizzed over to the witch and landed in her
hand.

William stared at the hand with the ball. "My
god, you really are a witch."

"Of course. What do you think made me
disappear from your insane world? Breadcrumbs? Think again, William
Connoley." Hilda tucked the crystal ball in her pocket and then
used her wand to clean herself up and fixed the tear in her
dress.

"William, are you hurting?" Hilda found it
necessary to ask him, as he was clearly confused and very unaware
how he had gotten here, to the real world.

William looked at the woman with the long
grey hair. She had not changed a bit in all these years, he saw,
where he had put on a few pounds and traded some of his brown hair
for grey ones. "No, I think I'm fine." He looked at himself. His
suit had taken a beating, but he was still reasonably
presentable.

To his surprise, as he checked his shoes, he
saw a cupcake. He bent and picked it up. "Do these grow here?"

Hilda quickly took it from his hand. "It's
mine. I conjured them up." Then she saw his surprised and confused
face again. "Sorry." She put the small cake back in his hand. "You
can have it if you want."

William smiled. "Thank you." Politely he
picked a few small pieces of rock out of it and ate it. "Holy
Bejeebus," he said, "these are good!"