Hilda - The Challenge, Page 2
Paul Kater
help but chuckle over that remark. "And you know like no one else, I am sure of that. I hope I can call on you if there is something becoming more clear about the challenge, Babs."
"Of course, kiddo, just get in touch and we'll try to work something out. Maybe we can also shanghai Strega. I know she doesn't have a problem with bending the rules slightly concerning challenges."
Hilda felt good about that. Friends were just great. "Thanks, girlfriend. I'll let you know."
"Take care, Hilda." Baba Yaga's face was very serious when she ended the conversation.
The wicked witch got up and started pacing through her room again. The challenge worried her, much more than previous times.
Memories of the last one swam in front of her eyes, in technicolor and monophonic sound. The challenge had been set up in a labyrinth of dungeons, where black dragons, ghouls and all kinds of crawly creepies were going round. There would be nothing wrong with that of course, if the creatures would have hindered Lamador as much as Hilda. She, however, had been busy fighting off cartloads of them, while Lamador was sneaking up from behind, through a secret passageway that he had created (very illegal, that move had cost him four points).
It had been sheer luck that one of the black dragons had taken a running leap and misjudged its distance to get to Hilda. It had overshot its target, fell on the floor close to Lamador and its bulk had slammed the sorcerer into the wall before he could launch the fatal attack on Hilda. This had been the end of that challenge, as there were only a few bones in Lamador's body that had not been not broken by the surprise the black dragon had bestowed upon him.
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.
3. Rocky mountains
"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 wa
s 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
"Of course, kiddo, just get in touch and we'll try to work something out. Maybe we can also shanghai Strega. I know she doesn't have a problem with bending the rules slightly concerning challenges."
Hilda felt good about that. Friends were just great. "Thanks, girlfriend. I'll let you know."
"Take care, Hilda." Baba Yaga's face was very serious when she ended the conversation.
The wicked witch got up and started pacing through her room again. The challenge worried her, much more than previous times.
Memories of the last one swam in front of her eyes, in technicolor and monophonic sound. The challenge had been set up in a labyrinth of dungeons, where black dragons, ghouls and all kinds of crawly creepies were going round. There would be nothing wrong with that of course, if the creatures would have hindered Lamador as much as Hilda. She, however, had been busy fighting off cartloads of them, while Lamador was sneaking up from behind, through a secret passageway that he had created (very illegal, that move had cost him four points).
It had been sheer luck that one of the black dragons had taken a running leap and misjudged its distance to get to Hilda. It had overshot its target, fell on the floor close to Lamador and its bulk had slammed the sorcerer into the wall before he could launch the fatal attack on Hilda. This had been the end of that challenge, as there were only a few bones in Lamador's body that had not been not broken by the surprise the black dragon had bestowed upon him.
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.
3. Rocky mountains
"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 wa
s 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
