The Only Thing Worse Than Witches

What To Do About the Witches

“BUT WAIT,” RUPERT SAID, BREAKING AWAY FROM Sandy’s hug. “Where are the witches? Are they still coming to find me?”

Sandy burst out in giggles. “That’s the best part!” she said. She ran outside, and Rupert followed her. They walked around town for what seemed like forever, but as soon as Sandy led him past the fish-and-chips restaurant, Rupert knew exactly where they were headed — to the witches’ lair. They walked up to the boulder that marked the entrance, and Sandy put her hand on the rock, which grumbled and rolled to the side to reveal the passageway into the heart of the lair. And there, in the entrance to the lair, fourteen bunnies huddled together.

Sandy cringed at the sight of the bunnies, but she quickly snapped her fingers and conjured a cage that surrounded all the bunnies. Then she held her hands out in a ta-da pose.

“What’s that for?” Rupert said.

“The Witches Council!” Sandy laughed. “And four witchlings.”

Rupert’s mouth fell agape. “But how?”

“Attack in two steeples,” Sandy said. “Turn back into people. But the witches were never people — they were always witches. It was a tiny loophole that I thought might work.”

Rupert stared at the bunnies. A gray one bared its teeth, while the rest looked humbled and frightened.

“Turn us back!” the gray one squealed. “By order of the Fairfoul Witch, I command you!”

“The Fairfoul Witch, huh?” said Rupert. He picked up a nearby stick and poked the Fairfoul Witch gently in the side. She hissed and tried to bite the stick, but Rupert poked her again.

Sandy stroked her chin with her thumb and pointer. “Weelllllll,” she said. “Look at this. I’m the only one who has the power to change the bunnies back into witches.”

“Oh please, please!” squeaked a few spotted bunnies.

Rupert scanned the bunnies and found the brown bunny that he recognized as Nebby — she was hanging back behind the group with a tawny-looking bunny, which Rupert assumed was Storm. Both their whiskers twitched, but they did not say a peep.

“Hmmm…” Sandy said. “I should turn them all back into witches. They are my family after all, and we witches do do a lot of secret things that keep Gliverstoll working.” Sandy paced around. “But will I?”

Sandy winked at Rupert, who took his cue. “I don’t know,” he said. “I sure would hate to have to lick their feet or eat my way out of a pool full of Jell-O.”

The Fairfoul Bunny snarled a deep throaty snarl, but the other bunny witches began to plead. “Oh please!” they said. “Please, Witchling Two, turn us back! We will leave the boy alone! Just turn us back!”

“I demand to be materialized back into my original form!” the Fairfoul Bunny said. “If you don’t obey right now, I can assure you that you’ll never be part of the Witches Council!”

Sandy folded her arms. “Then I can assure you that you’ll all be bunnies forever.”

“Please!” the rest of the witch-bunnies cried. “Turn us back!”

“Only if you promise to leave Rupert and his family alone,” Sandy said.

“We promise! We promise!”

“I need written proof.” Sandy whipped up a scroll and an inkpad with a snap, and each bunny pressed her paw into the inkpad and then marked the scroll.

The Fairfoul Bunny trudged over to the inkpad. “He broke the rules. You broke the rules. I will not agree to keeping him safe! He knows too much! He must perish — I shall make him eat the sludge from a fish tank — or I shall make him suck eggs up his nose with a straw—”

“No!” Sandy said. “I won’t change any of you back until you all agree to leave him alone.”

“But he is a human! We hate humans! We punish humans!” the Fairfoul Bunny howled.

“You may hate humans, but I don’t,” Sandy said. “And human or not, Rupert is my best friend, and I can’t have you hurting him.”

The Fairfoul Bunny dipped her paw into the inkpad. She glared at Sandy with her red eyes, and then she stamped the scroll, just below the signatures of the other bunny witches. “I will find some way around this,” the Fairfoul Bunny said. “You mark my words — I will make this boy’s life miserable!”

Rupert stared down at the Fairfoul Bunny. “You’ve made my whole year miserable,” he said, “but from this point on, you’re going to be miserable, not me. Isn’t this what you call fair and foul?”

The Fairfoul Bunny spat. “How dare you speak to me like that! I will make you suffer in ways you can’t even imagine. I can make your mother suffer.”

Rupert trembled with anger. “What happened between you and my mother?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“I know my mom stole some forbidden potions from the witches, and you claimed me as punishment—”

“Told you!” squeaked a tiny ginger rabbit. “Told you Witchling Two brought him to see the files!”

“What did my mom steal?”

“A fertility potion,” the Fairfoul Bunny snarled. “She wanted a baby.”

Rupert sat down on the grass. “You — you mean—”

“Yes, you owe your entire existence to the witches, boy.” She hopped forward, her red eyes glinting with glee. “But it’s time to take back what was originally ours.”

“And what’s that then?” asked Rupert.

“You.”