Hilda - Cats (13 page)

In the small village everything was quiet.
The night was coming to an end, but still everything in the streets
and alleys was dark. On padded feet, a creature moved along the
cobblestones, keeping to the most silent of streets. The sensitive
ears picked up every sound. An instinct that was not sensory warned
of someone walking...

The creature suppressed the growl that wanted
to escape, pressed its body against the wall and waited for the
village watchman to pass by. The man looked like such an easy prey.
Only one strike at the lower part of the neck, or dragging a claw
over the throat- but that was not allowed. The creature trembled in
anticipation and almost moaned. Then the man was out of sight again
and the urge eased.

The dark furry shape pressed on, more quickly
now, to the market square. There were crates on carts. Swiftly the
creature ran across the square to the cart that held the crate with
the chickens. A leap, a soft thud as its feet landed on the cart.
Then a paw reached out to the crate, in which some of the chickens
had woken up. Wood cracked, and a chicken was pulled from the
crate.

It did not take long to rip the head off. The
creature devoured the chicken, and then ate another one. Feathers
were all over and around the cart by the time it had finished. Well
fed, it jumped from the cart and ran away from the market square,
hiding in the shadows of the streets and disappearing from the
village the way it had come.

-=-=-

Four brooms were leaning against a cart in
the market place. Four shapes, three in black, one in pink and deep
red, were walking around together with the watchman and several
people that lived around the square.

Nobody had seen or heard anything. The
scratch marks on the crate and the layer of feathers, as well as
the bones that were scattered around, were definite proof that the
cat-creature had paid the village a visit, though.

"This thing must be magical," Hilda said, as
the four of them were sitting in the local tavern, drinking tea.
"Can't be that something moves around without being heard of seen,
makes such a mess of chickens and gets away unseen too."

"Huh," said Esmee, "I have seen unmagical
people make a mess of chickens too."

Hilda counted to ten. "As I said, this
creature has to be magical." She held up the bit of hair that they
had found on a side of the cart. It was the same colour and kind as
what they had found in the castle gardens. "And whatever, or
whoever is doing this, has a lot of tricks up some big sleeve. This
is amazing trickery."

A man stepped to their table. "Excuse me,
honorable witches... Is it safe for me to let my people clean away
the mess in the market place? The watchman said you might want to
look at it again?"

"And you are?" Baba Yaga asked in the
friendliest tone.

"Lindolf Garmackus, humbly at your service,
madam."

The man had iron willpower, Hilda noticed. He
did not back away.

"And that mess out there is yours?" Babs
continued.

"Well, whatever it was that visited my
property overnight did make a mess, I must say. It looked in better
shape when my man Jock put it there last evening," said
Lindolf.

"Oh!" Esmee chimed, "you know Jock? He is
such a good man. A nice friend too."

Lindolf looked at the woman in pink and red.
"Yes. He often works for me. Honourable witch." It took him some
effort to address the blond woman that way, but sacrifices had to
be made for the greater good.

Baba Yaga looked at Hilda and William. "Do we
need to go over that cart again?"

Hilda shook her head. William also indicated
that he saw no point in that. Then Babs looked at Esmee. "Do you
agree?"

Esmee looked shocked. "Uh, yes? I think so."
She was more than surprised that Babs would seriously ask her
opinion about this.

"Good." Baba Yaga turned to Lindolf. "You can
clean up the mess. Have fun with it." Then she turned back to the
people at the table, leaving Lindolf slightly flabbergasted. He
mumbled a "Thank you, goodbye" and left the tavern.

"I wish we had a lead to the person who is
behind all this," Esmee sighed. "This is all so difficult..."

Babs turned around and looked out of the
window, to where Lindolf was shouting instructions to some
people.

Even Esmee noticed that the ugly witch kept
that position for longer than regular interest in the goings on.
"Baba Yaga? Are you okay? Anything special to see out there?" she
asked.

"What? No, of course not. Lindolf is by far
not interesting enough to get a twisted neck," Babs said. "Anyone
for more tea?"

Hilda kept a straight face. William did also.
Esmee's face was forced to it by some magic Hilda carefully
applied. "Yes. Some tea would be good," Hilda agreed with Babs.

They had more tea and talked about the things
they had discovered. Their final decision from the session in the
tavern was that this was not helping them in any way. A ward had
gone off, so the creature had been at the castle. They had seen
prints to prove that. And the creature had been in the village,
where they'd seen bones and feathers to prove that one. But nobody
had seen or heard anything.

"The thing is magical. No doubt about it,"
Baba Yaga insisted as they were flying back to the castle.

"A magical big cat?" William sounded full of
disbelief. "I am sorry, Babs, but doesn't that sound a bit far
fetched? The idea of a cat that size is already quite hard to
grasp, but a magical one?"

"Do you have any better suggestions, Mr.
Wizard?" Babs asked him.

Mr. Wizard had to admit that his box of ideas
was painfully empty.

"Good. So until we have other ideas or proof,
we should assume the big cat is a magical one. That means we have
to be extra careful, also when we patrol the gardens."

"Patrol the gardens?" Esmee asked. "We've not
patrolled the gardens but once."

"Exactly. I propose we're going to do that
more often. Like every night. And someone should take it on himself
to scout the village and surroundings at night." Babs looked very
smug.

William had not missed the 'himself' in her
words and looked hurt. "This is not democratic," he complained.

"Of course it isn't," Hilda said, "it is Baba
Yaga."

"And you'd better remember that," said the
old witch. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself."

"What was that?" William asked.

"I'm not in the habit of repeating myself,"
Baba Yaga repeated herself.

Esmee grinned.

When the group arrived at the castle, Esmee's
grin disappeared when Baba Yaga reminded her that there still was a
frog to be turned into a man again. "You still remember the spell,
don't you?"

Esmee said she did. The group went in search
of the person who was taking care of the frog, and found that one
in the shape of a cook. As they entered the large kitchen, the
smell of food had already waved at them from afar. The cook
welcomed them and said they were welcome to have a taste of what
was cooking.

"I don't suppose you have frog legs, right?"
Hilda asked him.

"Oh, no, honourable witch!" the cook
said.

"Good. Didn't look like it, the way you are
walking," she grinned. "We're here for the frog."

"Yes, yes, it's here," the cook said. He
guided them to a large glass cabinet. Inside it sat a lonely frog
surrounded by a few cakes, a glass of wine and some straw.
Impossible as it sounds, the frog looked really miserable.

It was Esmee's doubtful honour to grab the
frog. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the animal. "Go on,
grab it and get it over with, witch," Baba Yaga commented. "It's
not like it's going to eat you."

"But it feels so icky!" Esmee countered.

"Have you ever touched a frog or a toad
before?" Hilda asked.

"No."

"So how do you know?"

That seemed to encourage Esmee. She picked up
the frog. The expression on her face changed. Dramatically. "It
feels icky."

"Some do, yes," Baba Yaga confirmed. "So the
best thing to do when you handle such an animal, protegé of mine,
is to decided where you are going to put it down. Once you've
determined that, you focus on what you are going to do." Esmee
stared at her mentor, while the frog hung from her fingers. "Then
you clear the path from where the frog is to where you want it to
go. Next step is that you grab the frog and put it where you want
it. Are you still with me?" Esmee nodded, the horror on her face
growing the longer she held the frog. "Good, I just want to make
sure that we are absolutely clear on this. So, where was I... Oh,
yes. You grab the frog, put it down, and you nail it with the
spell. That's all there is to it." The old witch nodded to herself.
"Best not to hold these things in your hand too long. Really."

Esmee groaned. She lifted the frog from the
cabinet, half put and half dropped it on the ground, and popped up
her wand. She aimed it at the frog. The other magicals as well as
the cook saw her lips move as she rehearsed the spell. Then she
spoke it and - nothing happened. Esmee stared at her wand and shook
it a few times. Then she spoke the spell again, and the result was
identical. The frog remained a frog.

The cook had a death wish "Looks like either
you or your spell are malfunctioning, Esmee."

Hilda picked up the frog and looked at it.
"Neither. This is a frog."

"Yeah. I can see that," the cook said. "It
already was one when they brought it in."

Baba Yaga glared at him. "This should be the
man we turned into a frog. Clearly it's not. Where is it?"

The cook had a death wish He picked up a meat
cleaver and held it in front of his chest as he said: "I dunno,
witch. They brought this here frog into the kitchen yesterday and
said I had to take care of it. That you folks would come around and
change it into a man. Thought I might as well get it used to a
man's food." At least that explained the cakes and the wine. And
the miserable expression on the face of the frog.

Hilda looked at the frog again. "You could've
fooled me, frog." Then she looked at William. "Do you think we can
find the real frogman?" Hilda grabbed Esmee's hand and put the frog
in it. "Here, hold that for me."

"I am sure that out cats can find the animal,
sweetwitch," William said. Obsidian Shadow looked up at him.
"Meow." Then he and his black sister ran from the kitchen. Hilda
and William went after them.

Esmee held up the frog. "What am I supposed
to do with this?" she asked Baba Yaga.

"Depends. If you're hungry you could ask this
cook to turn it into a stew. Otherwise you could go outside and
toss it in one of the ponds. I'd opt for the second choice," Babs
declared. "It doesn't look that tasty."

Esmee nodded and left the kitchen, holding
the frog as far away from her as she could. She left the castle
with it, Baba Yaga trailing behind her.

In that time, Hilda and William were still
chasing after their cats. First they returned to the corner where
the original incident had happened, the servant running into Esmee.
As if they were professional search dogs, the cats sniffed the
ground, just shorter. Then they took the magical couple for quite a
tour around the castle, raising many heads, leaving many questions
unanswered. They had no time to answer. They also lacked the proper
things to say anyway.

The chase came to a halt when they found one
of the people who had witnessed the rude servant being frogified.
The woman, she had the face of a mouse, stared at the two cats and
the two people, all in black. "What do you want from me?"

"We only want to know what happened to the
frog. We know you were there when we changed the man."

The woman looked for a way out, but the cats
had her cornered. "I don't know. Did you see the cook? I heard he
has a frog."

"Wrong answer. That's a real frog. Esmee is
dealing with that. We need the unreal frog." Hilda was getting
impatient. William recognised the signs, and they did not bode well
for the woman. "So, spit it out."

"I can't. I didn't swallow the frog," the
woman tried.

"Taking the stroll down Difficult Lane, are
we? Maybe we should give Esmee another one to practice on,
William..." A wand appeared.

"No no no no no!!!" The woman surprised
William with the speed in which she could say that. "It was one of
the men who took the frog." She told them where they could find the
man. It was Harko, one of the gardeners. All four in black then
proceeded to the garden and gathered all the gardeners
together.

"You, with the blond hair. Come here. We need
to have a talk with you. About a frog."

The man shuffled towards them, nervous, and
no one could blame him. "About the frog..." he started. "Yes. I had
it. I gave it to one of the maids."

William got a not-so-good feeling. "Which
one? There's a lot of those around."

"It was Lizzy-Belle. She's often taking care
of the little pests- I mean the children of Princess Snow White."
Harko described the woman, but that was not helping a lot so Hilda
and William took him into the castle and spent a lot of time
examining maids until they found Lizzy-Belle.

"Frog?" was Hilda's short question.

"Gone," was Lizzy-Belle's equally short
answer.

"How?" Hilda wanted to know.

"Dicky," Lizzy-Belle explained.

"Crappedy crap," Hilda broke the monosyllabic
conversation.

Lizzy-Belle elaborated then, that she'd taken
the servant-frog with her, as Harko the gardener had said he could
not take care of it. She'd taken it to the room of the twins, as
she had to clean the beds there. The twins had been playing in
their toy corner.

"Do I want to know what happened?" Hilda
asked.

"Depends on whether you want to know that
Dicky stabbed it with his dagger or not."