Read Hilda - The Challenge for Free Online Page A

you have to sit up a bit and put an
arm around my neck," he said, "otherwise your head will hit the
wall."
    "Okay, okay," she mock muttered, pulling
herself up on his arm. "But don't worry, I have a hard head
William." Her speech was getting more and more difficult to
understand. She snuggled against him, her arms around his neck, her
head bobbing against his shoulder as he walked up the stairs. By
the time he reached the small hallway on the top floor, Hilda was
sound asleep.
    "Great," William mumbled to himself, looking
at the plenitude of doors that were still visible in the fading
light of the sparkles that were dying away. "Which door..."
    The house was not asleep. It opened the door
to the bedroom of the wicked witch.
    "Thanks," William whispered. He slowly went
into the room, hit his knee against the bed and, having found it
that way, he lay Hilda down. In a corner was a small floating stick
with a single flame. William used that to light a candle.
    With that light at hand, he straightened
Hilda's dress as well as he could, pulled the covers over her after
taking off her shoes, and then blew out the candle again. He left
the bedroom, closed the door behind him quietly, and repaired to
his own room.
    All the strange events of the day kept him
awake for a long time.

7. Household hassle

    "I hate myself." Those were the first words
that came from under the covers that were on the bed in Hilda's
bedroom. They came, of course, from Hilda. They were spoken in a
mere whisper, and even the whisper was too loud. "I hope this
works."
    A hand appeared. A wand appeared. A soft sigh
of relief came from under the duvet. The wand was pointed
downwards, a spell was murmured.
    Seconds passed.
    The covers were kicked away violently,
something in which the witch was severely hindered by her dress. "I
am going to kick that idiot out right now!"
    Hilda, wrinkled clothes and hair rather in a
mess, jumped from her bed, wand ready to fire. She stomped out of
the bedroom and kicked the door to the guestroom open- to find the
bed empty, the duvet folded back and the windows open. Fresh air
and sunlight were streaming into the room. "Now what the
hell..."
    She looked around the room. William's clothes
were still there. His bag was there. But the man himself was not
there. It was quite difficult for Hilda to keep up her anger as the
subject of it was not there to receive it.
    The wicked witch turned and descended to the
living room. As she was halfway down the stairs, there was the
smell of fresh bread, fruit, flowers and tea coming up the same
stairs to greet her. She stopped and looked at one of the pictures.
It was an ancient image of a famous wicked witch, who on one
occasion had not been wicked enough. Hence the picture.
    "Do you know what's going on?", she
asked.
    The face in the picture looked
apologetic.
    "Urgh", reacted Hilda, and continued her
journey down the stairs.
    The sources of the smells she had already
encountered were becoming stronger. As she stepped into the room,
she came to a standstill, staring at the table. Bread, obviously
warm and straight from an over. Flowers. Flowers?? A teapot floated
over three candles to keep it warm. A basket of fresh fruit was on
the table also.
    William appeared from the kitchen, carrying a
tray with something hot. He wore his new velvet pants and an apron
that Hilda recognised, but she wasn't sure when she had seen it
last. She had no idea where the oven mittens came from. "Hello, and
good morning. Come, sit, a decent breakfast will certainly help
you."
    "You!", she snapped at him, pointing her wand
at him, her mood temperature dropping to sub-zero values..
    "Yes? Is something wrong?" William did not
wait for her to continue; he walked on to the table and put the hot
pot containing vegetables on the table.
    "What's all this? What have you done? And
what happened last night?" Hilda was especially worried about the
latter, as there was a worrying amount of nothing that she could
remember of it