The Witches Race

 

 

Witches, like most folk, come in all shapes and sizes. Some are tall, some are short, some are thin and some are on the well fed side. Some are pretty, and some are... well, I’m sure you’ve had nightmares bad enough that would make a Rock Troll wake up lathered in terror sweat. But there is one thing they all have in common and that is their eyes are always black.

 

Not dark brown mind you or dark grey, but black… really black. The colour of coal or the darkest ink. The stuff nights are made of when there’s no moon, no stars and you're in the middle of the darkest forest you can imagine.

 

Now it is said that looking too long into a witch’s black eyes is like suddenly finding yourself in a very dark cave with something growling, probably quite large and with very sharp claws.

 

And Mayor Litton of the town of Feather in the Kingdom of the Golden Moon, had not one pair of black eyes fixed on him, but two. Which of course was making him very, very nervous as he sat across a table from Mother Strawflower and Mother Jonquil.

 

He had been a bit nervous around witches ever since he was a child. He liked them well enough and they had certainly cured him of a few nasty rashes, toothaches and some bouts of the flu. But he could never quite shake off the memory of his first visit to a witch at her Witchery with his mother.

 

She had been stirring a large pot of simmering, steaming liquid that hadn’t smelt all that nice. She had been mumbling something about bubble, bubble, toil and trouble as she dropped things into the pot, a few of which squeaked or hissed.

 

He had asked what she was making and the witch had given a high pitched cackle, eyed him slyly with her dark eyes and replied that it was a mouthwash.

 

Of course, it was all a big joke and the witch and his mother had got a good laugh out of his horrified reaction. But the memory of that horror just hadn’t gone away, even after all these years.

 

But he couldn’t show that to either witch at the meeting they were all attending. If they sensed he was even a little nervous he would never get them to agree with his request.

 

‘I know this is unusual, Mothers,’ he said. ‘But there is nothing I can do about it. The town council will only approve the race if you agree to certain rules.’

 

The mayor was talking about one of the most exciting event’s in all of Kingdoms… the Annual Witches Broomstick Race. It was held in a different town in Kingdoms each year, attracting folk from kingdom’s far and wide and the resulting trade was very good for the host town.

 

And there is nothing more thrilling than seeing a black clad witch atop a broomstick, racing through the air with the straw tail of her broomstick crackling with magic. They take the race very seriously and make special broomsticks for the event.

 

‘This is nonsense! The race doesn’t need rules… they take the fun out of it!’ snapped Mother Strawflower, a haggard looking crone with grey hair that looked like it was made out of iron strands. Her face was covered in vivid red splotches and her nose had not one, but two impressive moles on it. And her lips were so wrinkled you wondered whether she sucked lemons on a regular basis.

 

‘Please, Mothers… hear me out.’ Mayor Litton replied. ‘This is very difficult for the Council. We know the race is a great tourist attraction and that we will profit extremely well by it.’

 

‘Indeed, you will!’ said Mother Jonquil, a strikingly pretty witch with long dark hair that was marked with a white streak above her right eye. ‘I would have thought with all the money you will make the Council would be more than pleased just to have it.’

 

Mayor Litton shook his head.

 

‘It doesn’t change the Council’s position,’ he replied. ‘You must realize that Featherton is a very old town. Most of our buildings are made of wood… very old wood. Since the magic in your broomsticks produces sparks, they could easily start a fire. There was, I believe, an accident in last year’s race where a witch crashed and a house was burned down.’

 

The two witches suddenly looked a bit guilty.

 

‘We paid for the damage,’ Mother Strawflower replied stiffly.

 

‘Mother, you couldn’t pay for an entire town,’ Mayor Litton said bluntly. ‘That is why the Council must do all it can to prevent an accident from happening.’

 

He took a deep breath before he went on, very nervous at what he was about to say.

 

‘That is why we must insist on a speed limit.’

 

‘A speed limit!’ Mother Strawflower exclaimed with a cackling laugh. ‘It’s supposed to be a race!’

 

‘I realize that,’ Mayor Litton nodded. ‘But the Council thinks it has an idea that will make it just as exciting without going too fast. Please look at the map.’

 

The two witches turned their eyes reluctantly to a map on the table and Mayor Litton gave it a tap with a finger.

 

‘We’ve designed a course that takes a route around the edges of the city so that if a witch gets into trouble…’

 

‘Which is very rare I remind you,’ Mother Jonquil said pointedly.

 

‘Yes, but even a small fire could be a disaster for us. Now, what we propose is a little like an obstacle course. There will be tall poles with flags positioned around the city’s edges and each witch must circle them before continuing on. That way her speed will be slower and if she gets into trouble, she can steer into farmland beyond the town. That will lessen the chance of crashing into any building.’

 

The two witches looked at each other thoughtfully.

 

‘It’s an interesting notion,’ Mother Strawflower said.

 

‘Circling the flag poles will make it quite a challenge,’ Mother Jonquil said. ‘It will make overtaking tricky too, but very exciting when it happens.’

 

Mayor Litton gave a deep sigh of relief.

 

‘That’s what the Council thought,’ he said.

 

‘Mmm… well, I can see the sense in what you’re requesting, Mayor Litton,’ Mother Strawflower said. ‘We’ll take the plan back to the Kingdoms Council of Witches for approval, but I think they will accept it.’

 

‘Thank you, Mothers,’ he said. ‘Now, there was one other thing that I needed to ask…’

 

‘If you ask for anything more, Mayor, the race won’t be worth running,’ Mother Jonquil said firmly.

 

‘Oh, it’s nothing to do with the race, Mother Jonquil,’ he replied. ‘I just wanted to know whether the broomstick rides for the children will be free again this year.’