The Lost Witch by David Tysdale Page A

than like this."
    "Me neither, though sometimes I think I dream about what it used to be like. What my
home was like."
    "Dreams be powerful magic stuff," Mariat nodded.
    "Mariat, a wolf was after me last night when I got stuck between this and the Monobrain
Realm."
    "Be ye alone at the time?"
    "No, I had a couple of brainy pigs with me."
    "Be that the smell on ye?"
    "Probably."
    "Wolves like pork very much. Maybe they's able to smell it clear through to the other
dimension during the overlay."
    "If that's true, than it's a sure bet they can smell it on me now."
    "We best tell Herling. She'll know what to do. Herling be a very old witch, very
wise."
    Mariat skipped over to where the head witch was still talking with the two other crones.
A minute later Herling followed Mariat back to Carole, who stood up and set her empty plate on
the bench.
    "Be that true what Mariat say, Sylphwood? A wolf be searching ye out from the other
dimension?"
    "Philamount thinks so. He said I only made a partial jump to this realm and that's why
the werewolf couldn't find me, but the creature was prowling all around us."
    Herling remained silent for a moment, deep in thought. "Philamount be very wise fer an
old fraud. More to this than just pig smell. Probable some spirits thinking ye be a monobrain and
be wanting to teach ye a lesson. Probable they who led the wolf to ye. If such be the case, then
we have wolf fer certain this night."
    Herling spun around and clapped her hands together, instantly getting the attention of
witches and cats alike. "Coven, prepare fer wolfish attack. It be near certain that one comes this
night, and likely to be peskish sort of attack, also. Make food safe behind pantry door. Lock the
latch. Cats, be strengthening yer diversionary pee. Prepare brooms fer time of need." She clapped
her hands again and witches and cats jumped into action.
    Mariat clasped Carole's hand. "Come. Tis my job to prepare brooms fer flight."
    "In case you need to escape?"
    "If wolf gets into hall and we can't spell such, 'tis easier to fly off fer a time, 'til the
creature gets bored and runs off into night. That way none gets bit nor bothered."
    "But I don't have a broom."
    "Ye ride with me and my cat, Cleopatra. She be a beauty and not mind the company. It'll
also make Brutus extreme jealous that multitasker snubs him for Cleo." Mariat snickered.
    She led Carole up a flight of stairs to a large room where dozens of brooms lay propped
against three of the four walls. Mariat picked up a few that had fallen over, and made sure the
rest were spaced evenly apart.
    The fourth wall was actually a large set of double doors held shut by a heavy cross bar.
Mariat checked that one end of a rope was securely attached to the crossbar. The rest of the rope
fed up and through two ceiling mounted pulleys and down to a huge weight, balanced
precariously on the edge of a shelf. Mariat tested the rope knot at this end and gently pushed
against the weight. It wobbled uncertainly.
    "This be the way to open doors in a hurry," Mariat smiled. "Drop the rock and doors fly
open. If need be, all witches can leave in one big hustle, like bats from a cave." She selected a
broom and brought it over for Carole to inspect. "This be mine," she said with love in her voice.
"Tis made special by me and works only fer me. What thinks ye, Carole Sylphwood?"
    Carole lifted the broom from Mariat's hand, surprised at how light it felt. "Wow! It
tingles, like it's full of energy."
    "Tis exactly so. My broom be fastest of the coven, cause I added special magic gifted to
me from my grandwitch. It be magic only granny and me knows. Every good witch keeps a few
spells just to herself and family. But I show ye someonce, when we gets more time to play."
    "I'd like to. Except for the brainy pigs, I don't really have any friends to play with."
    "We be friends," Mariat stated. She placed her hands on Carole's shoulders and stared
straight into her eyes. "We be good friends. And when ye fix