"Did...Did it work?" Amy heard Hilda splutter. Although her voice sounded... different.
"I think so.... I can't see her. Then again, I can't see anyone," Miranda claimed as the smoke started to evaporate. "Ahh, that's better. Out of focus, but better... Whoa.... Why does everything look so big?"
Amy's hand flew to her open mouth.
"I don't feel so well," Hilda complained, sinking to the floor between the roots.
"I feel funny, too," Miranda plopped down beside her sister.
"You sound funny," Hilda leaned her head on her sister's shoulder.
"Where's Cybil?" Miranda looked dazedly around them.
"I'm over here!" Amy saw a hand appear from behind a very large root.
"How did you get under there?"
"I have no idea." Cybil fumbled her way over to her two sisters and flumped down heavily, holding her head in her hands. "Why is everything so blurry?"
"Are we Storytellers now?" the fatigued Hilda asked hopefully.
"I don't think so Hilda," Cybil answered solemnly.
"Ohhh...," Hilda sighed softly.
Amy followed her aunt down the stairs to the library's ground floor and approached the three all huddled together with their hands entwined.
She had a hard time believing her eyes. Gone were the scary old women, and in their places were three pretty hobgoblin teenagers, the black clothing and costumes replaced with bright, colourful dresses.
They were a lot smaller than before, and still had some of their previous hobgoblin features, like the large bulging purple eyes and pointy ears. But their skin was now a soft and smooth caramel colour, with no boils anywhere, and their thick lips and chubby cheeks had a rosy hue. Their silver strands were transformed into pure white, luxurious hair that fell in waves to their knees. Their long crooked noses looking more like slightly-bent twigs on their confused plump faces.
Aunt Penelope sat down on the tiles in front of them, a look of concern on her face.
"How are you feeling, my dears?"
"Strange...." They all nodded, agreeing with Miranda.
"I can't see very well," Hilda whimpered.
"Me neither," Cybil added.
"I am sure that will pass shortly." Her aunt told them gently. "Didn't quite turn out how you expected, did it my friends?"
They looked down shaking their heads.
"Did you know we were trying to make you disappear?" Cybil asked wearily.
"Yes. I did."
"Then why aren't you mad at us? How could you possibly call us friends?"
"Oh, I'm mad alright, but I can deal with that because I know your mother was only trying to give you the life that was taken from her." Amy noticed her aunt's voice sweeten, almost singing the words. "Your mother would have made a wonderful Storyteller, you know. She was so talented.
"I miss her so much," Cybil spoke up, her eyes watering.
"Me too," agreed Miranda.
"Me three," joined in Hilda.
"We're sorry we failed you Mumsy. " Cybil whispered.
"Hilda, Cybil, look... it's Mumsy!" Hilda yelled, staring in wonder into the candle.
YOU ARE READING
The Storyteller - ONC 2022
General FictionNine-year-old Amy Winter's holiday plans have gone from exciting to total disaster. How is she supposed to have any fun being packed up and sent to stay with a weird relative she can't even remember? And Aunt Penelope is as weird as they get. With...
