The Green Witch

Chapter One

     <Where are you, my very young and pretty?> said the Crone's voice in her head, sounding both frail with age and at the same time powerful with evil. <Show yourself to me.>

     Tala Viddyr had nightmares about the Crone frequently, dreaming that this time the hideous old hag had found her, her eyes glittering with greed and evil, and was even now on her way to work her evil magic on her. This was no dream, though. This time it was real. She was out there somewhere, in some form, searching for her. Tala cowered in her bed, quivering with fear. She pulled the covers up over her head as if that would hide her from sight. The evil presence swept back and forth across the country like a hunting bird of prey, its piercing gaze able to see through the tiles and thatch of cottages to see the people sleeping within. Tala imagined it pausing above every young girl it found. Anyone between the ages of fourteen and twenty. Scrutinising her until the Crone was satisfied she wasn't the girl she was looking for whereupon she would give a cry of frustration and fly on.

     The Kingdom of Meddelvy was big, but not that big. There were only so many towns and villages. There was the big city of Denwell, of course, with its teeming thousands, but the Crone would know her prey wouldn't be there. Her kind, to which both she and Tala belonged, almost always shunned cities. If Tala sensed that the Crone was coming too close she might move there to hide, but she would hate it and she didn't know how long she'd be able to stay before the lifeless gravel roads and the cold stone buildings drove her away again.

     She sensed her friends gathering around her small cottage. Birds on the roof, squirrels on the windowsill. Deer and badgers outside her front door. <Mummy!> they cried. <Why are you scared?> The sympathy turned to confusion as Tala failed to reply. She couldn't reply! If she did the Crone would hear. She was close now. Swooping low over the nearby village of Ellford and the dozen or so cottages that were scattered around the crossroads at its heart. Her friends called out louder to her, confusion turning to fear as they worried that something terrible had happened. She heard paws and claws scrabbling at the door, the mice squeezing under it and pattering across the floor to the bedroom.

     They climbed up the quilted bedsheet and under it until they were nestled against her body, their tiny minds calling out anxiously for her to answer them. The Crone was even closer, though. She sensed whatever had been sent by the old woman, an astral projection perhaps, swooping across the river and into the valley where Tala's cottage lay. Tala forced herself to ignore the increasingly desperate cries of her friends and curled up tighter, wrapping her arms around her head. She put a hand over her mouth as if the Crone would be able to hear if she spoke out loud.

     Whatever it was flew past directly overhead, and Tala heard the Crone's voice again. <Sweet child. Strong. Young. Healthy. Where are you?> Then it was gone, though. Perhaps it hadn't seen the cottage under the pine trees that pressed close around it on all sides. She gasped with relief as the black shadow it was casting over her soul lifted and she allowed her head to peep cautiously out from under the bedsheets. The mice stirred, comforted by her movement, but they were still confused by her silence. <Mummy! Talk to us, mummy. Tell us what's wrong.> Tala stroked their silky-soft fur, trying to give with her fingers the reassurance she couldn't give with her mind's voice.

     She could still sense the Crone moving away, now on the other side of Lake Silvemere and moving up into the mountains but she waited until all trace of her mocking, cackling voice had vanished before replying to her friends. <It's okay. I'm alright. You don't have to worry.> The animals squeaked and yelped with relief and the scrabbling at the door ceased.

     Tala climbed out of her bed, shivering in the cold, night air, and pulled a coat on over her flimsy nightie. The mice scurried happily around her bare feet. Tala then made her way down the squeaky wooden stairs and opened the front door.