16. Scary Mountain blues

Hilda touched down on the path that led to Baba Yaga's hut. She knew how to approach it, being from the front. It looked like your average hut on giant chicken legs, but it was a lot smarter than that. Like Hilda's house, it was able to inform the resident witch if someone was approaching.

The wicked witch considered that as she was walking up to the hut. Perhaps she should indeed get her house a new layer of paint. Lately it had been really neglecting its tell-tale abilities, making her open the door in her nighty for the wrong people.

"Heya, house, how's things? Can you watch my brooms for a bit while I am inside?", Hilda said as she was close to one of the legs. It lifted a toe and she shoved her brooms under it. With such a chicken toe guarding her belongings, there was no way anyone but herself or Babs would be able to get them away from there.

The witch looked at the unpainted hut. Maybe her own house was just acting up.

The door of the hut opened and Baba Yaga appeared, in all her ugliness. "Hilly!", she shrieked as she jumped towards the wicked witch. The two hugged, as they had not seen each other in almost a year. "Come in, you witch," Baba Yaga said, "I have tea and cookies."

"It is so good to see you again, Babuschka," Hilda said as they were sitting and having exchanged a lot of gossip. There was always gossip to go over, or to go over again.

"Feels so to me also, Hilly," Baba Yaga said, scratching her few hairs with the long boney fingers. "So can you have a look at this kettle of mine? It is a serious piece of hardware, made by one of my most faithful Russian blacksmiths, and he did a really good job on it. A bit too good for my taste at the moment."

Hilda considered the immense cauldron. It stood big, black, round and very solid in the room, appearing too large to be even inside the hut. "That is one beast, Babs. I see where your problem sits."

She pulled out her wand and walked around the cauldron. She tapped it. The kettle was such a massive thing that there was no sound coming from it. "Whoa, serious stuff," Hilda mumbled. "This is one challenge. Resilire Cortina!"

The cauldron was hardly impressed. Nothing happened.

Babs sat watching how Hilda was going about, biting the thin lower lip with her toothless jaw. Hilda knew it and wanted to do this.

"Russian eh, no liking for Latin? Good. I hate Latin." She slapped the cauldron with the wand, while saying: "Shrink, you bitch." There was an audible plop as the cauldron reduced itself in size to an overgrown dice.

Hilda picked it up. "Gotcha. Here ya go, Babs, no problem."

Baba Yaga grinned. "You are so good, Hilly, I knew you could pull this off as the witchmaster you are. I have been meddling with skulls and bones too long, I think. Lost the touch for the bigger magic, I'm afraid."

"Ah, don't worry Babuschka, let's pack up and head over to Scary Mountain. I am sure Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax are already working on getting the full moon out tonight."

And so the two witches took out Baba Yaga's suitcase and a big bag of goodies for munching on the way. Hilda tied the shrunken cauldron to her spare broom and they were set to go.

"Hey, that's wicked, Babs, what gave you that idea?" Hilda looked at the end of Baba Yaga's broom where a skull was tied to the stick. The end of the stick stuck out of one of the eyesockets. "Didn't you have the end out of the nose last year?"

"Yeah, I used to," cackled the old witch, "but I did some courses on modernism and alternative approaches to expressing yourself, and I came up with this. And I have to say that I like it, although it does affect the flight abilities of the broom a bit. But I can deal with that."

"Shiny," said Hilda, "I am awed by you, girlfriend. Doing courses still. Sweet."

Then they kicked off and soared along the clouds, en route to the meeting place.

They were coming within visual range of the mountain when Baba Yaga looked up. "Now what..."

Hilda looked up also and saw what was bugging her friend. The moon was out already. It was full. And too close to the ground. And pink. "Suck an elf, what's that?"

"I bet they brought that amateur in again, what's her name... Garlick."

Hilda groaned. "Not her... She's so... kissy kissy mooshy mooshy..."

"Don't let the kid get to you, Hilly," Baba Yaga said. "Keep your cool and get it over with. Remember: there's only one you and that is why I love you."

"Alright," Hilda sighed, not yet convinced she'd pull that off. Magrat Garlick was one of the sweetest and most innocent witches around, and she gave Hilda the never-ending creeps.

The duo landed their brooms a bit away from the general pucblic that was already assembling on Scary Mountain. Hilda kept looking at the moon that was still pink, full and too close. After muttering something about burning on the stake, she helped Baba Yaga unload her cargo-broom and inflated the cauldron from hell again. With all their attributes and ingredients in place, they started preparing for the fireworks they had in mind.

"Hello, hello," a small obnoxious man with grey hair and a grey beard cheered as he walked around the cauldron.

"What the heck are you doing here?", Hilda asked.

"Ignore him, Hilly," the old boney witch said.

Rumpelstiltskin however grinned. "Hilly. Haha, I like that! I'll call you Hilly from now on!"

"Do that. Just once. Please, do it, and do it now," Hilda said as she made her wand appear. "It will be the last thing that comes from your puny throat, you idiot."

"Hey, wasn't this supposed to be a peaceful meeting?", Rumpelstiltskin asked as he slowly walked backwards, holding up his hands.

"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.