Hara and the Witch

Chapter 1: Witches and Teapots

'That,' the witch replied, 'is because I didn't tell them. It wouldn't do for news to get around, would it? "Witch on revenge quest" is not the thing to spread about and my reputation is already quite fragile enough.'

'I don't do-'

'Revenge?' the witch laughed, but not unkindly. She seemed amused by the prospect. 'A quester not going in for revenge?' She snorted, then, seeing a frown crease Hara's brow, added, 'Oh, I'm sorry, it's simply that... you are not what I expected. I felt certain I might rely on you both for this. Do you have any recommendations for whom I might seek out in your stead?'

Hara crossed her arms and Plim tweeted. 'I didn't finish. I was only going to say I don't do much revenge these days, so it'll have to be good.'

'Outstanding,' Plim said.

Hara nodded. 'Outstanding.'

'But we're also skint,' Plim added, 'so outstanding comes easy.'

'That... is also true.' She looked at the woman across from her and not for the first time flushed. 'Tell us the story.'

Faintly disgruntled and for a moment or two completely speechless, the witch eventually explained. 'A troll living in the forest stole something from me.'

Plim raised an eye, in a "surely you don't think that's it?" manner. 'What?'

'Spells. He stole my spells and I want them back.'

'Spells? What would a troll want with spells?' Hara asked. Trolls, as a rule, steered clear of magic (either learning or stealing it), preferring not to mess with forces so volatile. All the ones Hara had met seemed much more interested in how to brew the perfect tonic, but she supposed that didn't mean...

'Because I wouldn't give him my help.' She pursed her lips and sipped from her cup again. 'Will you help me or will you not?'

Hara eyed the witch and the witch eyed Hara and Plim eyed the teapot she had fallen in.

And Hara, quite to her own surprise, looked first at Plim and then at the witch and finally she agreed.

-

The witch had followed them out of her home, stepping into the radiant sunlight with a shiver, bringing her broom with her and closing the door with a sharp snap behind her.

Hara turned, slowly and hoping she would be proved wrong, only to see the witch sticking a house key under a foxglove leaf.

She was surprised, for a moment, by just how different the witch looked now she stood in the sunshine. She couldn't be much older than Hara. Her brow was lined, but from thought rather than age, and the freckles Hara had previously noticed really did seem as if they were placed with infinite care, rather than the profuse smattering that covered her own skin. The witches clothes were not simply black, either - they were velvet, shifting in hue from black to the deepest purple, then to green and then blue, the colour changing with every second and yet always united from head (she now wore a pointed hat) to skirt. Her lips were perfectly painted a glimmering charcoal and her shoes were like embers, bright and gleaming; Hara didn't know how she'd missed them before, how they didn't light up the whole of that dark house.

And yet now was not the time to focus on shoes. Hara watched the witch in silence until she turned around.

'What,' Hara said, Plim squawking in assent, 'are you doing?'

'How do you mean?' The witch quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head.

'Outside.'

'Oh.' She made a noise of amusement. 'I'm coming. Didn't I say?'

'No. No you did not say and no, absolutely not are you coming.'

'Except I am.'

'No!' Hara felt her cheeks turning blue with annoyance. As a child they would shift from blue to green to orange to purple multiple times a day, her emotions perfectly painted in her face, but as an adult she was able to rein it in most of the time. Or at least... well. Some of the time. 'Alright, so there are really only two ways this-' she gestured pointedly at first Plim, then herself '-can go. First is that you hire us, we do the job and then you pay us. Second is you do it yourself. No tag alongs, no negotiations.'

The witch looked at her, face unchanging. Her hair, like a midnight opal, blue black with shots of gold, green and shimmering white, curled out around her face and shoulders, seeming the most indignant part of her. 'You know this forest?'

'We'll manage.'

'You know how to exact revenge just as I require it?'

'No, but you'll be telling us your specifications.'

'Won't you get lonely, out there on your own?'

Hara looked at Plim and Plim screeched furiously.

'My apologies.' The witch let go of her broom (it hovered soundlessly beside her) and handed Hara a worn piece of paper from her pocket. 'It seems you're not what I expected.' Hara, accepting the note and looking at it, saw a vague map in an ink-spattered hand, full words obscured by blots and spills. 'Bring me back my spells. And-' she reached out a hand and touched Hara's elbow '-good luck.'