27. I fly

They flew out to the village. William enjoyed that tremendously as now he recognised some places where they had walked, and where they had done their stunt on the market square.

As they passed over the square, William grinned. "Honey and fish bits. How did you think of that?"

"It just seemed the appropriate thing to do," Hilda grinned. "I have to make my reputation trustworthy, don't I? Besides, he did not have to eat it."

Some people on the ground were yelling something up to them, but the distance was too large, they couldn't understand a word.

"Come, we're going down. Hold on to your breakfast, I am going to make this a killer entree."

William wondered, was grateful that she warned him and held on for dear life. And not in vain. Entering a kamikaze-like roll, she made the two brooms plummet to the earth in a most sickening way. The tip to hold on to his breakfast had been a nice one, but as they saw the ground come closer in a gut-wrenching way, William silently wished she had also given him a tip on how to do that.

Whether it was his good health or mere G-forces that prevented him from throwing up, he never knew. The fact that they suddenly came to a halt only five feet off the ground gave him the feeling that his stomach just kept going down. Somehow the hood had remained on his head, and William was grateful. It would be too much of a show for the people to see a green-faced wizard.

Hilda had no difficulty at all. "What did you yell?", she asked the good people of the village.

"We wanted to thank you and the wizard, honourable witch, for what you did here the other day. These young men have been been making a nuisance of themselves for weeks, and nobody could handle them."

Hilda lowered her broom so she was at eye level with the speaker. "For weeks? And you never sent me a message about that?" She turned to William. "Did you hear that? It's full of stupid!"

The wicked witch treated the two men to a shriek of laughter that had the potential to turn hair grey.

"Next time something like this happens, you should let me know. Or do you expect me to show up here every day to see if you didn't shit yourself?"

"No, of course not, honourable witch! We'll send a message next time!" The two men seemed to shrink under Hilda's sharp words and gaze, but it was clear that they got the message.

"Very good. Anything else you have to say or give us?"

William was rather surprised to hear that. Give us?

The man who had been silent until then pushed the other to the side. "Yes, honourable witch. A wagon with vegetables and other food is on its way to your house already."

This really was a surprise for William.

"I appreciate that," Hilda said, nodding at the man.

The brooms went up again, not fast, showing ultimate control.

"Hilda, about that wagon..."

The witched looked at him. "Yes?"

"Do these villagers actually give you food?"

"Of course."

"Oh. I am probably missing something then."

Hilda took her time to look at him. "Perhaps," she then started to explain, "you have missed the part where I am not growing food in the lawn, and instead fly around fixing their things and solving their problems. That is my part of the deal."

Everything became clear to him instantly. William felt ashamed for not having been able to puzzle that out by himself. "I am really sorry. I should have understood."

"It's nothing, sweet man," Hilda smiled. "I understand. You came here less than a week ago, from your own world where everything is insane, and that world makes sense to you. Do you think I expect you to understand how my world works in such a short time? It is probably as strange to you as your world was to me. I didn't ride the things you do, like those men on their two-wheelers, and the horseless carriages like your truck, and here you are, flying a broom. Really, I understand."

William still felt like a first-class idiot for doubting something about the wicked witch. Granted. she wasn't the most diplomatic kind. but she had never been unfair towards anyone, as far as he had been able to determine. "Thank you. Still, I apologise."

"If you insist, I accept."

"Thank you." William was serious.

"Let's go on, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Hilda made the brooms turn and they sped off through the air.

William did not try any tricks while in the air that day. There was a lot for him to think about, to get used to, now he was in such a state of transition.

Hilda told him that she was not sure what he should or could do, except practice his new-found magic to her directions, the way she had learnt to use it also. For her there was the challenge to cope with the erratic way William's magic was developing. She had been taught by several old and respected witches, and the way her magic had developed was similar to that of the other witches she had been with then.

"Your magic is acting weirdly, William," she told him as they were sitting down for dinner that day. "Something pops up and you are not ready for it, while something simple just doesn't work yet."

It was true. He was not able to light a candle yet, or move a sheet of paper over the table. And he did manage to make the hood of his cloak move over his head, which according to Hilda was far more complicated.

He agreed with what she said. "I am sure it is as confusing to you as it is for me. Only I have an advantage."

"Really? And what might that be?" Hilda stared at William.

"I get to play, and you have to suffer the consequences."

Hilda was flabbergasted. She dropped her fork, walked round the table and started slapping William over the head. "Magic is not something to play with unless you know what you are doing, okay? And any consequences that I may suffer, mister, will be reflected on to you. So you'd better be very careful with what you are going to do, did I make that understandable for your ordinary's brain?"

William was laughing very hard, and he turned to Hilda as she had stopped her happy slapping, pulled her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

"You're not supposed to laugh when I am slapping you, William," she pouted, "I am trying to get a point across."

"Point taken, pretty witch. I just love it when you are getting so worked up over something." He then became serious. "Dear Hilda, I was teasing you. I am very much aware that wielding magic is not something to take lightly. I have seen some of the things you can do and I am seriously impressed. And frightened also. The ease with which you manage to get both of us in the air with the brooms and keep us there, it is amazing, to mention something."

"See, you really are mixed up. Flying isn't that difficult, you just have to do it. Maybe tomorrow I'll try and show you. But with the likes of you I really worry about what will happen." The witch kissed the beginner that was in her care. "So... Do you want something more to eat? Or are we done here?"

"I think we're done here. I also think that I am not yet done with you..." He lifted her as he stood up.

"William? What are you planning?" Hilda already had a notion, as the link between them was becoming the perfect tattle tale.

William just grinned. "You'll find out soon enough." Then he set course for the stairs.

A few minutes later the goldfish agreed that Hilda had become much more relaxed since William was there to take care of the needs she had repressed for so long.

The next day, as they were on their way home from doing the rounds, William asked Hilda about the magician Gurtrheyn. "What kind of person was he? Do you know much about him?"

"Why do you want to know about him?" Hilda wondered about the question. "It's his labyrinth I am worried about, not the dead wizard himself."

"In my world, pretty witch, it is known that if you get to know the person who built something, you understand the reasoning behind what he made. And that can be an advantage."

"Oh. Right. Well, I don't know much about him. Sorry. I can tell you what I know when we're done with your training," she offered.

"That's great."

Hilda had drawn up a plan to train William in using magic. The plan was quite simple, basically it consisted of trying something and see what would happen. His ability was too fickle to follow any serious plan, so she had decided that this approach would be the best option. Or rather: gamble.

"I have an idea," she said as they had just past the village. "I said that flying is basically simple, remember?"

"I remember, yes." William already had a feeling of what was coming at him.

"Why don't you try it while I hold you?"

William now had the certainty of what was coming at him. "I somehow knew you were going to propose that."

"And what exactly should I make of that reply? Are you afraid, William?" Hilda moved her broom closer to his, and touched his arm for a few moments. "No need for that, sweet man. I am here. I won't let you fall."

"I know that, Hilda, but the idea is a bit... daunting."

"Oh, shush, you. Just get the feel. Like you did yesterday when you wanted to move the broom left and right. Only now you want to keep it level and going forward."

William's idea for trying to fly had their origins a bit nearer to the ground, but Hilda was right. She was there to catch him. "Okay... I will seriously do this."

"Don't cramp up, William. It is really as easy as breathing. Or kissing...", she added with a smile. "Try to feel the magic inside the broom. Feel its life, and feel where it goes. Where you want to go." She kept talking to him, her voice being gentle, calm, even seductive in bringing his mind into a state of peace and attentive calm awareness. That would be a first step into sensing what he'd need.

William let her voice lead him. His vision seemed to go a little out of focus and he let his senses take over. He felt the broom, the air, he saw the house where they were going in his mind and he felt Hilda close to him. William dared to relax as he let all that take him over.

The feeling of his magic was faint, but it was there. He had learnt to notice it by now, although there were plenty of times that he missed it.

Hilda kept a close eye on the man who was flying next to her. Her sensation of him told her that he was going in the right mental direction. William was letting go of the disbelief and the uncertainty. 'Yes, my dear man, you just need to will it without pushing,' she thought for him.

The hold she had on him was firm. In fact the hold she had on her magic was firm, and that did the real work.

She noticed a change in William as his magic flowed out of his core and into his veins. Almost with baited breath she watched the metamorphosis in him happen as he took control of the broom and the flight. She slowly started to let go.

William discovered and embraced a new feeling. A tingling sensation that was going through him, and it seemed to envelope him, Hilda, the brooms. It was as a light that could not be seen, just felt, he decided, and smiled at the idea. He felt in control of the situation. He knew where they were going. And how they were doing it.

Hilda saw William's smile and that something was happening inside him. She had let go of him completely now, and he was still flying. Very very slowly she made her broom rise up, only a few inches. William followed. His smile widened, and the feeling it gave Hilda made that she started smiling also. She did not say a word, afraid that she would ruin the state of mind he was in.

William had noticed Hilda's broom rise and wanted to stay with her. His broom went up. He turned his head to look at the pretty witch, whose hair was flying wildly behind her, just because she wanted it to. "How am I doing? Am I doing something, should I ask?"

Hilda's smile remained as she replied. "You, William Connoley... you are flying a broom."

"I know that," he said, his eyes shining, "but-" It was then that he became aware of the actual meaning that her words carried.

He was flying a broom. He did it himself. Slowly he turned his head and looked at the bristles in front of him. The hands that held the stick. Again the feeling, the sensory light, was pulsating around him.

William took a deep breath and held his relaxed posture.

Hilda, flying on his left, tried not to tense up as she saw how William was slightly shifting. His broom gently moved to the right, creating an opening of almost five yards between them. The wicked witch was ready to throw her magic, but there was no need.

William had simply willed the broom to move. It had gently done what he wanted- no, what he had requested and hoped for. After the thrill of feeling the broom move to his wish, he looked at Hilda, his face competing with the sun in shining. He saw her smile, sensed a feeling of marvel, and then he closed the gap between them again, his eyes on the broomstick.

"Hilda..." In his voice sounded a slight wavering.

"William? Look at me, okay?"

He looked at her. "How does one land a broom?"