47. Eye-quill coordination

They completed their tour around the area that Baba Yaga had in mind. Most of it was less hostile than the part where they had landed, as in that it was possible to walk around there without the need to beat off twigs and shrubs all the time.

Back in the hut with the chicken legs, Babs served more tea and more cookies. "So you are happy with the patch. That's good. I may be able to work out a bit of a preparatory spell for it while you are gone again. If Lamador can play things dirty, he's at the right address for more."

"Oh? What are you planning then?" Hilda nibbled a cookie, stared at it and handed it to William. "Yours."

Babs watched the strange exchange of the cookie, then snapped out of it. "Oh, just a little thingy. I think it would be helpful if the forest calms down a bit when one of you two is there. In a radius of, let's say, three feet?"

Hilda's eyes sparkled blue. "You have the most ingenious ideas, Babs. I love you for that. Do you really think you can pull that off? It's quite an area."

"I said I'd work on it, okay? What was wrong with that cookie?"

"It was not sweet enough," Hilda said as she let her finger soar over the plate with cookies.

"They're all the same, Hilly baby..."

"And now they are the same sweet, Babsy baby..." The two witches laughed, William feeling a bit out of place at that moment.

In front of him were an ink pot and a stack of paper. He had asked for that, as he wanted to write down a few things that he had thought of. He held the quill in his hand, grinning at the exchange between the two witches.

"Willy, what's that?" Baba Yaga pointed a boney finger with a long finger nail at his hand.

"Hand. Quill. Why?"

"Why are hand and quill together?", the ugly witch asked.

"Because I want to write, perhaps?" William had a suspicion what would come next.

"And while you are magical, why do you write the ordinary way?"

He carefully put down the quill. "Because that is the way I have been writing most of my life, Babs."

"Yes, I see. But that life is behind you now, Willy, so grow up and write like a wizard. No touching the quill, no dipping the quill into the ink. It's easy. Even I can do that." Baba Yaga's laughter bounced around the hut again.

Hilda proved to be little help to him too at that moment, as she turned her chair and sat looking at him, her face straight and her eyes flashing blue.

"I don't believe this," said William as he reached for the quill again that moved out of his reached.

"Write like a wizard, William," said Baba Yaga, who made the feather float in front of him.

William drew in a lot of air and let it out very audibly. "Witches," he said. He held out a hand, made his wand appear and started writing with that.

A deadly silence fell in the hut as the two witches stared at the man writing.

"What...", was all Baba Yaga could bring up.

"And he always does things like that," Hilda said, a blissful smile on her face. "You never know what he will do next. Isn't that sweet?"

"It would drive me wild," Baba Yaga said, turning her tea into something a lot more potent and downing that in one go.

"Yes. That happens too," Hilda agreed, "but the fact that he manages that time and again... I really admire that."

"Do you, now?" William looked to the side, at his witch. He winked. Then he looked at his wand, used magic to clean the tip and made it vanish. "Just for that little revelation I will make a fool of myself and try to write like a wizard."

Baba Yaga filled her teacup again, with the same potent drink. "The man is insane. And the woman is not far behind him."

William grinned and looked at the quill that still danced in front of his face. Gently he took control of it and sensed how Baba Yaga let him do so. The quill was very light, it trembled as he moved it.

Hilda looked at him, as he slowly brought the feather down to the paper and started scraping the tip over it. "You need ink, sweet man," she said.

"Yes, it looks that way. So how do I do that, when it is so simple that even Babs can do it?" He was stumped.

Hilda grinned. "You make ink at the tip, that's all."

"Oh. Right." William stared at the tip of the quill. Then he looked at the witch next to him. "I now fully understand your problem with the engine of my truck."

Baba Yaga frowned, she was obviously missing a few large chunks of the puzzle, but Hilda almost fell from her chair laughing. "Finally!", she yelled out.

The Russian witch shook her head. "She's not behind him anymore. She passed him. She's gone."

Hilda calmed down a bit and then explained to Babs that William had asked her to fix something in his vehicle. "And I don't know how that works, so I can't fix it. And now he discovers that he does not know how to make ink since he doesn't know what goes in it."

baba Yaga laughed. "He comes to his senses. Good. That is important. He would be only half a wizard without that insight. But still he is insane to me."

The two witches explained to William how he could make ink. The fact that they all shared magic made that a lot simpler than actually having to work on the ingredients.

After ruining three sheets of paper with large blots of ink, he sighed and said: "Maybe I have to train this some more. This is micro-magic."

Babs looked at Hilda and shook her head. She didn't even need to say it anymore. "You go and work on this outside, Willy, while us girls talk serious things. I don't need you messing up my fine table with a small river of ink. Please?"

That probably was the best thing. William took his paper outside and grinned as he heard laughter thunder through the house. "Serious things. Yeah, right."

They spent the evening sitting around a big fire that floated in the middle of the room. William was stunned by the abilities of Baba Yaga. She was not a looker, but in the category of doer she was amazing.

The two witches were telling stories of things they had seen in their lives, and things they had done. There were plenty of tales about dragons, and the way the two witches talked about them made William curious about those beasts, but at the same time he wished that the first one he saw would be in a safe distance.

Hilda then told Babs about how they had travelled to king Herald's kingdom and the whacky way in which they had brought Bilgar back.

"You did what? You built a carrying thing on two brooms? And that worked?" The wrinkly witch sounded seriously impressed.

"Yes. Well, I had to convince Bilgar to lie still a few times-"

"Hahahaha," Hilda laughed, "you should have seen that. He punched him and Bilgar went bluh..." Hilda threw herself back in the chair, sprawled out, her tongue hanging from her mouth for a moment. "It was so funny to see!"

"Don't tell me that Willy now already has such control over flying a broom that he pulled that off," said Babs.

"No, I did not," William said. "Hilda took over the flying while I silenced Bilgar."

"Silenced. I like that." Babs grinned. "I really like that."

The chatting went on until late in the night, and finally they all went to sleep...

Morning came. Hilda slowly woke up. Very slowly. With her eyes closed, she reached for William. She could not find him. "William?", she whispered, but that did not bring him back to her either. She leaned up on an elbow, brushed most of her hair to the side and looked at the empty spot."William?" A frown was on her face for a moment. Then she was awake enough to sense him, through the mysterious link. He was outside. Practicing his hands-free writing and not making too much ink.

Hilda smiled. "Good boy. But bad boy for leaving me alone, too." She got out of bed and walked to the window in the main room, from where she saw William. He sat on one of the flattened skulls, the paper and the quill floating in front of him, both objects wobbling tremendously.

"Hold the paper, dumb person, that is so much easier," Hilda mumbled.

William remained a dumb person for a while longer. Then he seemed to understand. But even with the paper steady on his knees, the writing was not working out.

Hilda slipped into her housecoat and walked out to where William was sitting.

"I'm trying," he said as he saw her approach. "And good morning."

Hilda kissed his cheek. "Good morning. I should slap you for leaving me alone."

"Will that help me write better?", William asked her.

She stared at him. And laughed. And then said: "Please, never change, no matter how dumb I find you. I love it when you make me laugh with these remarks."

He grinned, the quill still wobbling in front of him. "As you see, I am wasting paper."

Hilda examined the stack of paper in his lap and saw that he spoke the truth. "I can't believe that this is so difficult for you. It is just like writing with your hand, just without using your hand."

William stared at the witch the way she had stared at the paper. "Just like writing with your hand..." He turned his attention back to the quill, took a fresh sheet of paper and set himself to writing. Like usual, just without his hand. The quill lowered to the paper and started moving. At first it was shaky, as if a drunk spider was trying a waltz on the wrong music, but after a few lines of rubbish, the writing became more stable, and at the end of the sheet of paper it was actually legible.

"Did you manage that just because of what I said?" Hilda was amazed.

"Yes. Once you said that, it dawned on me that I should feed my feeling of the movement to the magic that goes to the quill. And then it is - uhm - well, not exactly easy, but at least it works."

"Yes. That works. And now you got the trick down, I demand satisfaction. I am cold and you will have to come in with me and see if you can make me warm again." She held out her hand, which William gladly took, and they went inside. As the door of their room closed, the owner of the hut muttered something about impetuous youths.