The Only Thing Worse Than Witches

Witchling Four

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? AM I A PUNISHMENT?”

“No,” Witchling Two said. “I think it means… you belong to the witches. They’ve claimed you.”

“B-but I can’t belong to the witches. I’m not allowed to go near them! This doesn’t make any sense.”

Witchling Two scratched her head.

“Why was this file on the table?”

“Nebby and Storm — they knew you had become my apprentice. They must know that we didn’t stop seeing each other after that day in the Brewery, and they must have wanted to read up on your family history.”

He looked at the piece of paper again.

“What did she steal? What’s a forbidden potion?”

“Oh, it could be lots of things. Love potion, death potion, revival potion, fertility potion, intelligence potion, obedience potion. The witches keep all sorts of potions that are forbidden for humans. For moral reasons.”

He looked at Witchling Two quizzically, but she turned to her watch.

“Honeybee minutes!” she squealed.

She grabbed Rupert’s hand, and the two of them sped down the hallways. They ran past the flowers so fast that Rupert didn’t even have time to inhale. The entrance to the Dome Room was just ahead of them — and they leaped into the room like two gazelles.

“Well, well, well!” said a snotty-sounding voice. “Little miss witchling breaking all the rules.”

Witchling Two froze, and Rupert turned around the room. Leaning against the wall was a short girl who looked well on her way to becoming the scariest witch Rupert had ever seen. She had tangled brown hair and small, squinty eyes. Her face was sharp and angular, her lips thin and curled. And as she grinned, she bared her small, jagged teeth.

“You brought a human inside the Witches Council lair?” the small girl said, smacking her lips in delight. “Witchling Two, you’re in so much trouble. I mean, they’ll probably make you clean the dome with your tongue. You always do this, you know — make us real witches look bad. You’re a joke — an insult to the name witch.” The small girl cracked her neck. “And you could never pass your exam, not even if the entire Witches Council gave you private lessons. I don’t know why you even try.”

Witchling Two looked down. A blush crept on her freckly face, and she shuffled her feet.

Rupert squeezed her hand. “Go on,” he whispered. “You’re better than that! Now tell her off.”

Witchling Two looked up and beamed. “Hello, Witchling Four!” she said.

Witchling Four looked nervous at Witchling Two’s sudden change of attitude. “Did you hear what I just said? You’re getting in trouble! They’ll never let you take the exam, and you and your niceness will be banished forever,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the word niceness, as if there was no worse insult in the world.

“Wait… are you threatening to tattle on her?” Rupert said.

Witchling Four nodded.

“You wouldn’t,” Witchling Two said. “You can’t — because if you tell, you’ll have to admit that you were here, too. And then you’ll be in just as much trouble.”

The sound of a gavel and cries of Meeting Adjourned! echoed throughout the room. Rupert tugged on Witchling Two’s sleeve in panic. She nodded toward his backpack, and Rupert handed it over to her.

“At least I didn’t bring a human in here!” Witchling Four shouted.

“Human?” Witchling Two said, reaching deep into the backpack. She pulled out the jar full of sand and handed Rupert back the bag. She smiled as she twisted the cap of the jar open. “I don’t see a human. Do you see a human?” she said to Rupert.

Rupert caught on fast. “I don’t see anything!”

Rupert closed his eyes and his mouth, and Witchling Two dumped the jar of sand all over Rupert’s head.

Witchling Four’s eyes slid off him, and Rupert and Witchling Two dashed toward the boulder. They ducked around the corner and hid for a moment so that they didn’t make too much noise as they scurried toward the exit. Behind him, he heard the doors open and a few witches cry, “Witchling Four! You naughty child!”

“Quick!” Witchling Four shouted. “Witchling Two is here with a human boy!”

“Quiet, you! Stop spreading rumors and lies,” said a squeaky voice. “I’m so ashamed of you right now! You know you’re not supposed to be here!”

“But Coldwind!” Witchling Four whined.

“No buts, bums, bottoms, tushes, tails, rears, fannies, or glutei maximi, missy! You’ve brought me shame and humiliation. No saliva slushie for you tonight!”

Witchling Two tugged on Rupert’s sleeve, and he tiptoed behind her as they made their way through the passageway with the framed smiling animals. At last, they made their way to the boulder, and it sat just ahead of them — but then the lights flicked off, and they were stuck in darkness.

“What happened?” Rupert whispered, frightened. “Are they gone?”

“No, it’s our new environmental conservation plan. They like to turn off the lights when this portion of the hallway isn’t being used. We’re very concerned about the environment, too.”

“But why aren’t the witches leaving the lair? Isn’t their meeting over?”

Witchling Two giggled. “We were really lucky Witchling Four was there — they’re dealing with her in the punishing room. Now let’s get out of here.”

And she dragged Rupert toward the exit.