Puddlebrain

Chapter Twenty Nine

One moment she was surrounded by a host of oaks desperate to rip her to pieces, the next she was in a huge clearing almost bereft of any greenery at all. She gasped and instinctively let go of the broomstick. The front end dipped suddenly and grazed the floor, flipping the witch. She flew through the air, unaided this time, and landed flat on her back on a sparsely grassed stretch of hard mud.

Winded and bruised, Puddlebrain laid there, her ears ringing like the church belfry on a Sunday morning. She tried to sit up but couldn't. She tried to move more than her arms, but she couldn't, and even moving those was painful. She wheezed, drawing her breaths in as if through a wad of cloth, it was so difficult. Her head ached from being slammed into the hard mud. She groaned, and the groan turned into a cough that threatened to burst her throat apart.

Her broomstick had recovered from its own tumble and drifted hesitantly over to the witch. It had only just met her, a brief introduction that had been so swift it hadn't even included a hello. There was no "Hi, I'm a witch" – "Hi, I'm a branch." It was simply a jump on and go!

And then this had happened.

The broomstick knew it wasn't at fault. It hadn't really had any choice in the direction or speed they'd been flying – the witch had been in total control, although perhaps 'control' was a little too strong a term considering... Still. She had removed it from the Grimace. She had taken it from the elm that had given it birth. In doing so, and in giving it the gift of flight, she had made the former branch feel as if it was waking up from a drugged sleep, not that it particularly knew what drugs or sleep were. Being a part of the Grimace was overpowering and smothering, and you knew nothing else other than the feeling of being overpoweringly smothered. It was normal. It was natural. To be separated from that was... enlightening. Having a sense of self was new and, well, wondrous! And it was thanks to this witch! The broomstick nudged her.

You ok?

Puddlebrain tried to push her creation away. She was decidedly not ok. She had bruised her pride and her back and could do without any creeping concern from the scabby bit of wood that had thrown her! The effort of lifting her arm was too much for her and she flopped it back down, wincing as it hit the ground. Again the broomstick nudged her, this time more insistently. She turned her head towards it a little too sharply.

"What!?"

The broomstick backed off but stayed close. It was hovering a few centimetres off the ground, swaying slightly from side to side. It wasn't quite used to being able to fly, so it was taking things steadily, not wanting to rush or try anything too rash. The race through the Grimace had been enough! It jabbed at the air in a pointing motion. Puddlebrain frowned. What? The broomstick jabbed again. It was definitely pointing. Puddlebrain turned her head stiffly in the direction her broom was indicating.

She sat up abruptly, immediately forgetting her pains.

She was in the centre of the Grimace. It couldn't be anywhere else. Three oaks, so huge they dwarfed even the mighty ones that had made a grab for her on her journey in, formed a triangle in the middle of which she was sprawled. The Grimace ringed the behemoths like an audience waiting to see some spectacular gladiatorial display, or perhaps to simply stare in awe.

She craned her neck back to try to see the tops, but they were lost in the night sky. How these could not be seen from outside the Grimace was beyond the witch. They were blatantly massive! Minimal roots could be seen at their bases, as if they'd burrowed deep into the ground for stability and pulled the bodies part way down with them. It gave the trunks the illusion of being moulded from the very ground itself, as if the earth had thrust oak fists skyward. Branches didn't sprout until a good 20 yards up, and the lower ones were easily thicker than Puddlebrain's own torso. Beyond that, she couldn't tell. The upper reaches disappeared into the darkness above. She turned to stare at each colossus, speechless.