"Good," Hilda said, pushing the broom into his
hands, "then you carry it for me." She walked on a few steps and
then looked at the security man. "Coming? It won't fly without
me."
The man, a Star Trek fan, raised an eyebrow.
"Could you come with me, please?"
"Are you taking me to the crystal balls?", Hilda
asked.
"Certainly," the man said. Up until that point
he had done everything well. The moment he reached out to push
Hilda ever so gently towards a special room, that was when things
started to go bad. You do not touch a witch. You definitely do not
touch a wicked witch. And least of all you'd want to touch
Hilda.
The wand was out before the eye could follow.
The security man seemed to solidify beyond human standards, he
literally became petrified.
Hilda looked at him and assumed her broom would
be safe in his stone hands. "Thank you for holding my broom," she
said, patting the statue on the arm. Then she went on the search
for crystal balls, a chore where her wand could not help her.
It took her about ten minutes to locate the
balls. "Hair of a unicorn, these are small," she said as she saw
them. With a simple incantation she changed the glass into air and
reached into the cabinet, picking out the largest of the crystal
spheres. "Pretty though..." She tapped it with the wand and sampled
the sound. "Good quality too. I guess this will have to do."
A saleslady then came into the section where
Hilda had decided on her choice. "Ah, madam, I see you have
already..." Her voice faltered when she saw the glass missing from
the cabinet.
Hilda held up the ball. "I am taking this."
"Excellent choice, madam," the saleslady said,
still wondering about the cabinet. "I'll take it and have it
wrapped for you."
"No. I said that -I- take this. You take
nothing." Hilda held up her wand.
The saleslady stepped back. "Are you threatening
me?"
"Threaten? I do not need crude means like that.
I am telling you, that suffices in general," said Hilda. "Now let
me get to my broom and no harm will be done."
"Broom?" This threw the saleslady so much that
she did not attempt to stop Hilda as the witch breezed past her.
The saleslady had no idea how lucky she was.
As Hilda walked through the Swarovsky store, she
tucked the ball in her shoulderbag and made the wand disappear
again. Her hurry attracted some attention, but a spell handled
that.
The stone man still guarded her broom. One of
the other security people stood next to the statue and was busy
talking on the phone about the remarkable find he had done. "No,
man, honest to God, he's turned to stone... No, dammit Marty, I am
not drunk! I'm on duty here! Send over the cops or so, and an
ambulance-... Marty, you asshole, we don't need a sculptor here.
I'm telling you, Stephen has changed into a statue and I need help
with that!"
Hilda heard the conversation. She shook her head
at the weird man who was talking to a small piece of metal. Then
she picked the broom from the statue's hand and walked out of the
shop. She did not mind the alarm going off, nor the man with the
phone coming out after her. Long before he could reach her, she had
already mounted the broom and flown off.
"Marty... you are not going to believe what I
just saw," the man said to his partner on the other end of the
line.
Hilda was high in the air, on her broom. She was
looking for a spot where she could consult the crystal ball,
somewhere quiet. She found a small patch of land with trees. Not
large, but then she did not require that much space. She guided the
broom downwards and landed beside the small foresty spot. The witch
looked at the broom and shook her head. An impossible thing, she
thought to herself, but so far it worked. It just cornered
poorly.
Hilda walked among the trees and put the broom
up against one of them. She looked at the surroundings. "Back to
basic. How authentic." Her face betrayed that she did not agree
with the words she just had spoken.
She kneeled down on the sand and lay her bag on
it, in front of her. She took the small crystal ball and started a
time-consuming ritual to charge it. A ball not properly charged
would give the most insane answers, she knew. Fitting for this
place, she added a thought, while a grimace hurtled over her
face.
By the time the ball was charged, the sun was
setting. A dark shadow fell over the town and also over the group
of trees. Hilda grabbed the wand, stuck it in the soil and snipped
her fingers. A bright light came from the wand.
"Now let's see if this sucker works," she
mumbled.
The ball was on the bag, charged and potent. The
witch held her hands over it and as silently as she dared she
repeated a chant to activate the visionary powers she had summoned
and put into the small sphere. The world around her grew dark.
Nothing existed, except herself, the power and the crystal ball
that she was working on.
A small light started to shine inside the
crystal and Hilda had to pay extra care now, be amazingly gentle
and chant the nuances of her song in the most subtle of ways,
otherwise the whole exercise would have been in vain. One wrong
intonation, one slight faltering of voice and volume, and the power
of the spell would rupture the crystal ball, rendering it useless.
It would end up as being merely a ball made of crystal, not an
actual crystal ball.
The bright spark spread through the hard
mineral, slowly revolving, shining its light against the inside of
the sphere. It was an amazing feat to witness, time and again, even
for the wicked witch, how the light would just stop moving as it
reached the limit of the ball and not go out further as light
usually did. Patiently she worked on, chanting, empowering,
soothing the structure of the ball so it would not crack under the
strains that she was putting on it. A larger ball would have been
easier, the pressure inside would have more substance to spread
around in, but alas, things were as they were. The quality of this
little object would have to make up for the reduced size.
Hilda closed her eyes as she projected the
ultimate burst of energy right into the heart of the sphere, where
the light lived and danced. She held her breath, summoning all the
powers she could reach to make this work, dedicating her whole
being to the work. The ball existed of pure white light now, energy
flowing freely, in near obscene amounts. Then it was done. All the
light vanished, darkness fell over the witch and the sphere. Hilda
kept her eyes closed and was ready for the cold that was going to
flow over her. It was inevitable, as so much energy had been pulled
away from the environment.
The frosty cold hit her as she had taken the
crystal ball in both her hands. She pressed her little gem against
her heart and fainted, as the drain of energy, the lack of food and
the sudden harshness of the icy wind that whistled around her took
their toll.
Hilda awoke with an abundance of smells in her
nose, the sensation of a soft bed beneath her and warmth on her
face.
"Well, look who's awake," a voice said. "Tilly,
I think it's time for some food and coffee for someone."
Hilda opened her eyes and quickly looked around,
throwing off the blanket. Surprise and recognition caught her and
prevented her just in time from throwing around a powerful stunning
spell. She was in the house of the ancient one, the man with the
white hair and the large wizard's staff.
"Ancient one?", she whispered, not understanding
how she had gotten there. "Did you bring me here?"
"Haha, hear that, Tilly? She's calling me
ancient one. I did tell you!" The old man got up from his
chair.
From behind the table that he'd been sitting at,
an old woman got up as well. She had a round face, grey hair with
still some black streaks in it and large friendly eyes.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, miss,"
she said, "let me get you something to eat." As she went out of the
room, the old man helped Hilda get up and led her to a chair. Soon
after that, she was eating a good meal and sipping the dark, strong
smelling stuff that the ancient ones called coffee. As she was
stuffing herself in what appeared to be a frenzy, the old man told
her how she had gotten onto the stretcher in his livingroom.
"I was taking the dog out for a walk, you see.
Always do that in the evening. Good to get some fresh air before
going to sleep, and it's good for Wilbur also. Wilbur's the dog,
you see." He took a swig from his coffeecup. "So we were going down
the road when Wilbur was pulling me over to the trees where you
were lying. What were you doing out there all by your lonely self,
anyway? You looked as if you had been thrown out of a freezer."
Hilda dropped her fork and knife. "Where's my
ball?" As the old man frowned for a moment, she got up. "I need my
ball. Where is it?"
"Oh, you mean the crystal ball? We kept that
safe for you." The old woman, Tilly, picked it from a small jar and
handed it to Hilda, who grabbed it from her hands. The wicked witch
probed the power inside the sphere and found it to be working and
all fine. Relieved, she tucked the ball in a pocket of her denim
jacket.
"I need this ball. I charged it, and I have to
keep it close to me. You understand."
The two old people looked at each other and
smiled. That was enough for Hilda to know that they did indeed
understand. Old mages, she knew, often did not need words to
communicate.
Before she could ask, the ancient one said: "We
also have your broom here, so no need to get all excited about that
either."
Hilda nodded. "I appreciate that. But, of
course, as you know, the ball is more important. A broom is just a
broom."
"Of course, dear," Tilly said. "Would you like
some more food? Or coffee?"
"Yes. Coffee. It charges me very fast. I must
know the recipe for this brew, if you can share it," Hilda said,
pushing the cup towards the wife of the ancient mage.
The old man looked at Hilda. "Do you really not
know how to make coffee?" Astounding sounded in his voice. Hilda
immediately knew that she was trouble. Clearly the making of this
brew was a knowledge very common here, telling that she did not
know how would make her be the laughing stock of these people.
"Of course I do. But this one is special," she
tried to save her butt from pending mockery.
Tilly laughed. "Yes, you have that right. The
trick is to buy more Arabica and mix that to the regular
roast."
Hilda, having emptied her plate, felt like a
fool, a novice, a beginner. The coffee was clearly a liquid, and
these people knew how to roast it.
Hilda got up. "Can you give me my broom? 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 snatched her shoulderbag from the cot near
the wall 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, energising it for flight. "I have to thank you for your
generous help." The words were hard for her, but she had to show
courtesy, or these people would make her life hell, she was
convinced of that.
"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, 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."
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 probing she had not found
anything. Their shields had to be phenomenal. Her mind was already
racing, going over the right spells to seduce the crystal ball in
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 "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 did not
feel obliged to make a comment about that. "What'll it be?"
"Coffee, of course," said Hilda, wondering why
the man bothered to ask. "It says outside that you have this."
"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."
"Bring me regular. You may go." Hilda waved her
hand.
Another frown later, 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 beverage. Then she could seal off her area and start
her quest with the crystal.