“In witchcraft,” the old woman explained. “You sacrifice
something and convert it into energy, then you either transform that energy
into something else, or you can put it into another item. That’s how you get
interesting enchanted items, like Excalibur for example.”
“Wow,” I said. “Well if that’s how magic works then how do
talents work?”
“Talents as far as I can tell, function through energies
inside of the body. While witchcraft uses external energy, Talents seem to only
use internal. I think it’s sort of like a reservoir or a dam that slowly fills
up over time. Then once you have enough power you can release it all at once to
do something incredibly powerful, or you can release it in little bits to do
other less potent things…”
“That makes sense.” I sipped the bitter tasting tea that the
old woman had made for us from blue rose petals. It was a kind gesture to offer
us the hot beverage on this slightly chilly night, but the drink tasted of
cottage cheese and smelly feet.
The inside of the hut was very cozy if not odd. All over the
room there hung old dried herbs and hot peppers. And there were long purple and
red strips of cloth that hung from the ceiling in plush comfortable loops. On
the walls were ornate picture frames and, strangely, inside of them were
pictures of chickens. In the corner rested an enormous pot and a long rod
protruded from it, it was exactly like a giant mortar used for crushing up
powders for medicine. And in one corner there was a long desk filled with all
sorts of interesting knickknacks. A skull, a bunch of black feathers, various
metal rods that I imagined could be wands.
“This place has great chi.” Chris said. “Great for doing a
little bit of crystal ball gazing.”
“Fascinating.” The old woman said, as she watched Chris pull
the ball from her purse and begin staring into it.
“I’m sorry we never asked you what your name was.” I said.
“Ah,” The old woman said turning back to me stroking her pet
mole—not to be confused by the giant mole on her face. “I have many names…”
“Which do you prefer most?” I asked somewhat confused.
“Well most people call me Yaga, I suppose, that seems the
most appropriate at this time…” She paused gazing off into the distance as if
remembering some long forgotten past before continuing. “If people ask me too
many questions I grow weary,” The old woman said yawning. “So let’s make a
deal. If you ask a question then I get to ask a question.”
“Alright,” I nodded in agreement.
“Okay then, now it’s my turn to ask a question. Where is
that annoying Mr. Thumb now?”
“I didn’t know what she might do to Mr. Thumb if she found
out, she looked fairly serious. Fortunately for Mr. Thumb, I didn’t know where
Mr. Thumb was.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know exactly where he is, or if he
is still in existence,” I said. “I sort of ‘vanished’ him while he was trying
to train us with our talents.”
“Yaga’s mouth turned up into a half smile. Well with all
good luck he has ceased to exist. But my guess is that he’s still out there,
that incessant trouble maker.”
“Why do you want to know where he is?” I asked curiously.
“Mr. Thumb has something that belongs to me,” Yaga replied. “Something
that I borrowed to him a very very
long time ago. Unfortunately, he has forgotten to return it to me. Forgotten on purpose, if I know that
Thumbkin!”
“I see,” I wanted to ask what it was that he took but it
wasn’t my turn to ask the next question.
“Why are you two kids traveling about in the woods this late
at night and all by yourself?”
It was a good question, one that covered so many topics in
one breath. “Well I’m not sure exactly where to start with that question. Chris
and I met about a month ago, at a Wendy’s about five or so miles from Liberty.
Before that I escaped from my evil aunt and uncle and set out to find my own destiny.
On the way though, we ran into Lord El Stinko…”
The old woman’s eyebrows raised in recognition.
I continued. “We accidently discovered that El Stinko has
been taking over Wendy’s establishments all over the United States in an
attempt to feed everyone a toxic cheese that will take away all powers from
those who eat it. This would leave the world horrible dry and depressing.”
“Quesonastifolopugus,”
Yaga said, nodding her head slowly. For an old woman who lived out in the
middle of the forest she seemed rather well informed. I thought better of
telling her that the cheese was actually in our possession, just in case she
wasn’t on our side.
“Of course, now that we know about his plot, El Stinko wants
to stop us. He hired an assassin named Sir Champagne to take care of us, and he showed up on the day that we vanished
Mr. Thumb. That was why we were running through the forest, and why we knocked
on your door this night.”
“My cabin,” the woman said. “Turns its back to the forest
and toward all those who really need shelter. It really is remarkable that you
were able to find my house at all, and indicates that you two have a
significant destiny in the future that will change the history of the world
forever, for good or bad. A few years ago a certain gnome appeared on my
doorstep, as well. A clown really in the form of a gnome who needed my help.”
“El Stinko,” I gasped, remembering what Mr. Thumb had said
about Liberty. That it was an enchanted city that attracted all the worst
criminals to it eventually. Mr. Thumb using his magic would then transform them
into garden gnomes.
“He needed me to transform him back into a human,” Yaga
said. “And it’s never easy transforming something back to how it used to be.”
“And you did?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes. I’m afraid I did,” the old woman said grudgingly. “But
then again he too was able to find my front door, even though he was in the
form of a garden gnome…”
“That means then that his destiny is also very important,” I
confirmed.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I’m afraid for the worse.”
To Be Continued…
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