Author: Mateusz Kowalski. Mat is a neurospicy chaos incarnate working in the video games industry. Fan of everything occult, horror, fantasy and retro with an occasional sprinkle of sci-fi and Magic: The Gathering. A self-proclaimed failed cook.

‘Ah, the devil! The devil hath descended upon us!’

A hysterical scream tumbled through the church naves like an avalanche, causing all the gathered to raise their heads. This motion was accompanied by a set of cracks and complaints about the excess noise, followed by exclamations full of curiosity, panic and disbelief.

‘What is she saying?’

‘I don’t know, something about an anvil!’

‘Frances, it’s a church, not a smithy. Clean your ears, you old bag!’

Soon, the arguments were joined by a weak hiccup coming from the side of the altar. Father Augustus woke up from a brief nap – something that happened every time the altar boys started singing ‘Joy to Our Lady’ – an anthem that clearly indicated Our Lady must have been particularly fond of funerals.

Having discreetly swept the chasuble, he walked up to the pulpit and coughed. All the gathered looked at him in silence and anticipation. The priest combed his curly hair, then sighed – something the gathered wouldn’t notice, even despite the great acoustics of the church. With the average age of his grandmother, who was sitting in the prime spot, most of the frequenters couldn’t hear anything quieter than a bomb.

‘What is it, Mina?’ he asked, looking at the old lady, still staring through the window with her cane raised, ready to attack.

‘The devil hath descended upon Grüngold! Behold his vile presence!’

Father Augustus sighed again, then walked from the podium towards the window. Indeed, something was there, flying across the sky. The shape reached the winter moon with grace, moving its legs morosely. A horned head turned briefly at him, then focused on the path ahead.

A single faint bleat reached them from the skies, wreaking another havoc amongst the church’s geriatrics.

‘Blimey,’ Father Augustus groaned.

‘Lucy? Lucy! Where is this damn goat,’ Griselda muttered, walking through the garden. She knew it was a bad idea to let the goat graze as she pleased but keeping her in a pen was utterly pointless. Not only Lucy kept on getting out in some miraculous way, she also intimidated the manticore to the stage where the beast just hid its face under the wing whenever it heard the bleating.

A weak rustling came from behind a winterberry bush. Griselda slowly approached it, so as to not startle the animal. Truth be told, if anyone could be startled, it would be her, not Lucy. The goat survived an encounter with three dragons, completely unfazed. If hell gates opened in front of it, it would just spit and walk away.

‘Here you are,’ Griselda fixed her glasses and grabbed the string tied to the goat’s neck. ‘Bedtime, don’t make me force you,’ she muttered, turning around on the creaking snow. Lucy shook her head, then reluctantly followed, feeling the pull.

Evangelina’s hands twitched nervously, then moved as if she was about to throw an invisible object from her hand. The spell fizzled, leaving a splatter of pink and orange paint on the table.

‘I have no idea why it won’t work,’ she muttered.

‘Possibly because you’re trying to cast it on a mercurial hourglass,’ Griselda sighed, flipping the object and fixing her head resting on a fist. ‘Mistress Carmina told us many times mercury needs more than a raw spell.’

‘I was certain it would work this time,’ the red hair shook with disdain. ‘I recalculated, recalibrated, re…’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Griselda flipped her hand, making the bones crack.

‘Why not enhance it a bit?’ Helga raised her head from above a book.

‘I thought you weren’t even paying attention? You were so focused on this grimoire…’ Evangelina blinked.

‘Oh, Lives and Trysts of Miramar the Beautiful are captivating but watching you struggle is more entertaining,’ Helga cackled. Griselda rolled her eyes. Of course, the winter exam session had already started and Helga was frolicking.

Miss Wink’s Academy of Liberated Arts, Magick but First and Foremost Good Manners for Talented Girls had a very strict curriculum for its students, even the senior ones, and neither of the three was exempt from the rule. At least not formally.

Of all three of them, only Evangelina crammed whereas Helga was focused on catching up with penny dreadfuls and cheap romances. Griselda was still examining the first years and wasn’t even interested in finding time to handle the assignments from her mentor, Miss Donkdonk. Moreover, Griselda had no competition in the field of agricultural magic as none of the students displayed a penchant in it. Griselda was, therefore, safe.

‘I know what might help you,’ Miss Hoffnung smiled slyly, making both Evangelina and Helga look at her with curiosity. ‘There’s this herb called widow’s blossom. Its leaves… some of the witches use them to help with certain magic. We could try it.’’

‘Isn’t it dangerous though?’

‘Anything less dangerous than the risk of getting bored to death during the arcane history lessons – I’m on board with that,’ Helga clapped her hands and stood up.

‘It’s so cold,’ Evangelina groaned, going through the herb garden.

‘Next time take your cloak with you,’ Griselda sighed in response, pushing the bushes aside. She lowered her nose almost to the ground, looking for small, bluish leaves. ‘I’m certain it was somewhere here,’ she added. Something was odd.

The very same moment she said these words, something in the bush rustled.

‘What is it?’ Helga whispered nervously.

‘Probably one of the garden gnomes,’ Miss Hoffnung replied, still moving her hand through the grass. ‘Can you two calm down for a moment?’

‘We’re not saying anything!’ Evangelina replied with a complaint in her voice.

‘So what…’ Griselda raised her head. Her look met one sent by Lucy who was chewing on something. ‘You!’ she raised her voice. ‘Come over here!’

The goat took a step back, swallowing loudly, then bleated.

‘I’m being serious! Lucy!’ Griselda moved forward. ‘I locked you inside, how did you get out?’

Without response, the goat turned around, then trotted gleefully through the garden, stomping the surrounding ground and raising small clouds of frost around her. Then, to everyone’s bewilderment, she rose from the ground.

‘Is she…’ for the first time in a while, Helga didn’t even finish the sentence. They watched as the goat ran through the night sky towards the moon.

‘How?’ Griselda took off her huge, round glasses and cleaned them with a sleeve.

‘Must be the herbs,’ Evangelina replied nervously.

‘We need to get her,’ Helga started. ‘Imagine what might happen if this poor being lands in some cauldron. Or worse – in a circus!’

‘Both fates will still be better than what happens when I get to her,’ Griselda muttered and walked towards where Lucy was grazing. Barely any of the widow’s blossom was left, all of it eaten by the goat. She picked a couple of them and turned back to the witches who looked at her in horror.

‘What?’ We’ve got what we came for. I’ll deal with her later,’ she snorted, moving between them towards the dormitory.

‘…and so I think that this herb must result with different conditions triggered depending on the species that use it. This would explain, for instance, the plague of boggarts from last summer. Remember when they started multiplying themselves rapidly only to pop back into nothingness after a couple of hours? It’s amazing how much we’re still yet to learn about Mother Nature…’ Helga was tirelessly thinking out loud as they marched through the corridor.

‘Yes, yes, it’s very enlightening, thank you very much,’ Griselda cleaned her nose in the sleeve. This cold was even more annoying than the musings of her friend.

She needed some tea afterwards. Maybe some catpaws, dried lingonberries…

‘A witch hunter is here!’ a scream of panic came from behind a corner, followed by a running first-year. Her eyes were twitching, blonde locks unruly. Without a word, Evangelina grabbed the student by her arm, causing her to stop rapidly.

‘First: no running through the halls, Laura,’ she said with annoyance. ‘Secondly, there are no witch hunters in Grüngold.’

‘But it’s true! He came in! With a large hat and a cane! His eyes gleaming with rightful vengeance!’ the girl sent them a nervous look.

Griselda hovered over to Helga and whispered: ‘Sounds like one of your books.’

‘I take no responsibility here,’ her friend muttered with a complete lack of energy.

‘Why is he here?’ Evangelina sighed.

‘The devil is in Grüngold! The entire congregation saw him! Wherever it goes, the smell of sulfur announces his arrival, flames of hell pave the way and the horns crown his forsaken head!’ Laura exclaimed.

‘Nope, not my books,’ Helga nodded. ‘It’s too tawdry.’

‘Horns…’ Griselda frowned, then opened her eyes wide. ‘Wait, if he’s here, it means he’ll sooner or later come to us.’

‘The devil?’ Helga looked at her with surprise.

‘No, you numpty, the witch hunter,’ Griselda snorted. ‘And it’s going to be a mess.’

Indeed, it didn’t take long for the witch hunter to knock on the Academy’s door. It seemed like the local witch hunter guild wasn’t even particularly concerned about the rumours as the man was barely walking on his own with the large round hat making him look more like an overgrown mushroom with a long beard than a human being. Moreover, when correcting his hat, he also displayed large, thick glasses.

‘Made from all the jars in the vicinity, I’m telling you,’ Helga tapped her mouth, observing the man walk through the hallways.

‘Does anyone here partake in Satan’s business?’ a creaky old voice echoed through the hall.

All the gathered witches looked at each other with confusion. Fortunately, Miss Wink came to the rescue with her usual strictly controlled nonchalance.

‘Master…’

‘…Bertrand,’ the old man raised his head, looking at the towering raven-haired woman wearing extremely high red heels. Seeing the two of them next to each other was an experience on its own, with Miss Wink overdressed for any occasion, wearing dashing, as Helga claimed, gowns, intricate hair and oversized glasses with trinkets hanging from them like from a Christmas tree.

‘Master Bertrand then,’ Miss Wink replied with a deep, groggy alto. ‘As you might know, we cultivate not only magic but manners here. What sort of manners would involve the devil? Maybe some devilment, yes, some deviled eggs every now and then but never devilry. We would be more than happy to assist you but it seems like it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that the Prince of Darkness has decided to visit our little realm.’

The witch hunter scratched his beard, then sighed.

‘So exorcism it is then,’ he muttered, turning around. ‘Why is fieldwork always so boring?’

He stood in his place for a moment, pondering, much to everyone’s curiosity. Then, he turned back to Miss Wink.

‘Thinking of it, your assistance would be more than welcome. I hope I could inter… have a chat with all of you gathered here?’

If rolling eyes were followed by a sound, thunder would have rolled through the main hall.

‘But of course. Where do you reside?’

‘Oh, just the sacristy,’ the man started walking towards the door. ‘I hope to see all of you by the evening prayers,’ he added.

The moment the door closed behind his back, Miss Wink looked at everyone and sniffed loudly.

‘Girls, I hope I don’t have to explain to you that there should be no trickery on these grounds. If in what I hope is an unlikely case one of you is caught being responsible for this mess, I’ll have a chat with her. Now prepare yourselves so you’re at your best to represent the Academy,’ having said this, she turned around with her gown floating in the air like large wings and marched towards where her office was.

Evangelina left the small room at the rear of the church, huffing and snorting.

‘What happened?’ Helga rushed towards her.

‘He… he said all my efforts were just some peddler’s trickery,’ Evangelina burst in anger. ‘As if he knows how much effort it takes to do something here!’

Griselda sighed.

‘We shouldn’t have let you in alone,’ she shook her head.

‘Then we will go in together,’ Helga replied energetically.

‘I’m coming with you,’ Evangelina offered. ‘If I can turn him into a frog, maybe he’ll change his mind.’

‘So will Miss Wink about your presence here if you do it,’ Griselda sent her a weary look while approaching the door.

The witch hunter was sitting behind a desk, scribbling something. He looked up and waved his hand to move aside some smoke coming from old, oily candles put directly on the wooden surface.

‘Why is she here again?’ he pointed at Evangelina.

‘Because…’ the witch started, only to be interrupted by Griselda who moved her hand, causing the chairs in the room to align in front of the desk.

‘Because we have questions.’

‘I am the one to ask questions here,’ Master Bertrand huffed.

‘We want to help,’ Griselda sighed. ‘Just that. You’re an expert at the devil things, we’re experts on the… unnatural ones.’

‘Alright,’ Master Bertrand tapped the desk. ‘Not like any of your girls could say anything valuable anyway.’

‘It’s because we don’t have the devil here, that’s for certain. We cultivate manners and hone the use of magic for the better good of everyone,’ Helga started. Griselda and Evangelina looked at her immediately, mortified. They knew what was coming and Miss Hoffnung started to feel sorry for the old man. ‘Hypothetically, if the devil came to Grüngold, we would witness a huge disturbance in power. You know, there are accounts from the olden days of yore where the Prince of Darkness actually showed up and his presence caused the witches to lose the ability to do basic things…’

‘So you want to say your magic comes from him?’ Master Bertrand raised his bushy eyebrows.

‘Am I finished yet?’ Helga replied with annoyance. ‘He sucks everything in like a magnet. You know, this weird stone that attracts metal. Anyway, anywho, anyhow…’ the witch looked towards the window. ‘Ah, right. If he was here, we’d have grounds to suspect it would be debilitating. I can assure you our students are at their top capacity…’

‘Why is she having problems then?’ the witch hunter nodded at Evangelina who clenched her fists in return.

‘I’ll show you problems, you…’ she muttered, only to squeak when kicked by Griselda. ‘Ouch, this was uncalled for!’

‘Summa summarum, we will find the said devil for you and prove there is nothing to be afraid of when it comes to our good citizens!’ Helga replied hastily, pushing the chair away.

The witches looked at her and nodded quickly, then rushed out without waiting for the old man to reply.

‘What’s that rush?’ Griselda asked after the door closed behind them.

‘This,’ Helga pointed at the moon. ‘I think I found our devil.’

A gentle bleat reached them from above.

‘Lucy, damn you!’ Griselda snapped.

A sight of three witches running across the streets of Woodstone Major, the adjacent town to Miss Wink’s Academy, while not without a precedent, still took most of the witnesses by surprise. The fact that all three of them were shouting at each other, didn’t help the citizens in not rubbing their eyes in bewilderment.

‘…I am telling you, it must be these weeds, who knows…’ said one of them, trying to hold her macrame hat.

‘I get it, I get it, Helga, can you please shut it already?’ 

‘I swear, I will make soup out of her…’ a flaming coiffure was shaking angrily.

‘You’re not touching her! She is mine!’ the black-haired witch tried to clean her glasses while manoeuvring between the narrow alleys filled with little houses with red and brown roofs and floral arrangements cascading from the windows.

‘Oh yes, and your responsibility. You were very responsible here,’ the ginger one screamed.

‘How could I predict this mess?’

‘Well, think about all the possible outcomes,’ the blond macrame owner took a deep breath, to which both other witches yelled ‘shut it, Helga’ in unison.

They ran out on the road towards Schwarzwald where Lucy was grazing peacefully.

‘Here you are,’ Griselda stopped and started approaching the culprit slowly. ‘You two don’t move,’ she raised her hand. ‘Who’s a good, naughty girl?’

The goat sent her an unimpressed look.

‘I bet you’re tired and that you’d like to spend the rest of the night in your cosy barn, wouldn’t you?’ Griselda continued.

In return, Lucy uttered a bleat that got cut halfway through. The goat was staring at Griselda, making no movement, with her tongue lazily falling from the mouth.

‘I froze her,’ Evangelina shrugged, seeing Griselda’s surprised face.

‘And how are we going to bring her back? She’s heavy,’ Miss Hoffnung groaned.

‘Alright, grab her firmly and we can guide her,’ Evangelina hastened Helga with a hand gesture. Griselda held on to the pink collar first years made for Lucy while Helga and Evangelina held on to the goat’s back. Evangelina then huffed.

Lucy swallowed loudly, then moved on.

‘See, everything will be fine,’ Helga announced optimistically only to scream seeing her feet leave the ground.

‘How can she have so much strength?’ Evangelina exclaimed, embracing the goat. Lucy kept on ignoring them, just staring at the moon and moving her hoofs in the air.

‘You ask me,’ Griselda hugged the goat’s neck, trying not to suffocate her. All three of them tried to move to more comfortable positions but, instead, they fell like sacks of wheat against Lucy’s body.

Griselda sighed and tried to move the hairy head in the direction of the academy buildings which was met with a dissatisfied grunt.

‘What are you doing, Griselda?’ Helga shouted.

‘I’m trying to steer her!’

Finally, Lucy changed her direction and slowly moved through the air back to the garden.

‘Miss Wink is going to kill us,’ Helga cried.

‘I made us invisible,’ Evangelina yawned. ‘Sorry, it’s really tiresome.’

Thankfully at least one of us thought about it, Griselda rolled her eyes, trying to figure out what to do. If anyone learns about who the devil is… Lucy was just a goat but it was still her goat. And the stubbornness of the animal made the witch a bit fond of her. Then, an idea came to her mind…

‘You are insane. I’ve always known this. It must be these fumes from the pollen,’ Evangelina crossed her hands.

‘We’re in the middle of winter, you nitwit,’ Helga snapped. Both witches looked at her in surprise. ‘What? I’m done with it. I just want to get to bed.’

‘We’re doing this. I’m not letting Lucy become stew,’ Griselda huffed. Evangelina looked at her with anticipation.

‘Not letting you do it either,’ the black-haired girl twitched her glasses.

The storm of ginger locks turned around rapidly in disdain.

‘But why?’ Carla maybe wasn’t the brightest of the witches but most of the time people blamed it on her overly abundant imagination and tendency to forget what needs doing.

‘Do you like goat milk in your coffee?’ Griselda grinned.

‘I do but…’

‘So you’ll help us. Also, think about it: have you ever done something to the moon?’

‘No…’ Carla whimpered.

‘See? All you need to do is…’

‘Not get caught,’ Evangelina finished.

‘Why are we doing this in the sacristy anyway?’

‘Because having him walk anywhere will take ages,’ Griselda sighed.

‘Alright, let’s get cracking then,’ Evangelina stood up, walking towards the library door. A couple of first-years sitting at the nearby desk raised their heads, only to be met with a patronising scoff. They quickly returned to their books, muttering something under the nose.

‘I’ll…’ Evangelina started, only to be pushed by Griselda who was following her steps.

‘Later. We’ve got no time for this.’

Lockpicking was an undeniable talent of Helga’s and when she finally arrived at the church’s back door, she took out a handful of small tools. She sent them a smirk full of confidence and started manipulating at the keyhole.

‘Why can’t we just use magic?’ Evangelina sighed.

‘Because I’m enjoying it,’ Helga chuckled, hearing a click in the door. ‘Gotcha.’

The three witches sneaked in, leaving Carlota to watch the entrance. The girl looked at them from behind large glasses and shook her head, causing countless braids to shimmer in the air.

‘It’ll take a moment for me to summon the image,’ she whispered.

‘Just watch out for the signal,’ Helga smiled at her with reassurance. ‘You know, the scream saying the devil would leave.’

Evangelina started to unpack the sack Griselda carried in and blinked.

‘So you think this blanket will be enough for all three of us?’

‘Yes,’ Griselda smiled, reaching inside. ‘Here’s the mask and the smoke bombs. Just remember to drop them when we start.’

‘Why don’t you do it?’

‘Because I’m going to be in the middle and if they fall under the blanket, you’ll all lose your breath,’ she rolled her eyes and took the mask out. A goat-like head looked at her with elaborate horns almost poking her face.

Master Bertrand was, as expected, snoring at his best.

‘Can you please… move faster…’ Griselda whispered, bumping into Helga.’

‘I’m trying but I can’t see much!’ a complaint came through a bit muffled.

Griselda finally stood in front of the bed and patted the other two witches who, obediently, stopped and started to wave wooden hands.

‘Wooo,’ Griselda started. ‘I am the devil of Grüngold,’ she howled.

The witch hunter was snoring at his best.

‘Wooo!’ Griselda added, albeit with less confidence.

‘Why is he not waking up?’ Evangelina asked.

‘I don’t know, maybe he died. He’s old,’ Helga huffed.

‘He’s snoring. Of course he’s not dead, you nitwit,’ Griselda scoffed.

‘Try again,’ Evangelina replied.

‘Wooo, witch hunter, woo,’ Griselda started again.

‘Oh whatever,’ the red-haired witch said with annoyance, then hit the man with one of the hands.

‘W… what,’ the man moved on the bed.

Griselda blinked.

‘You, carry on,’ Helga whispered hastily.

‘Woo, witch hunter. I am the devil of Grüngold,’ she said with a low voice.

Much to her satisfaction, the old man shoved himself frantically against the wall, trying to find the glasses.

‘To your left,’ Helga advised gleefully. Griselda kicked her in her ankle.

‘What the hell are you doing now?’

‘If he can’t see us…’ Helga started.

Master Bertrand finally located his glasses and looked at the devil in awe.

‘You! You…’ he exclaimed with his voice getting trapped in his throat.

‘Yes, me,’ Griselda replied slowly. ‘I came here to confront you, witch hunter. This domain is mine and only mine,’ she added.

‘In the name of holy, I will destroy you!’

Miss Hoffnung could feel the witches turning their heads towards her.

‘Wave your hands,’ she whispered.

‘No, you shall not!’

Master Bertrand moved on the bed, reaching towards the nightstand and fetching a pendant with holy insignia.

‘Oh, here we go again,’ Griselda groaned.

The witch hunter started evoking Mother and Father, followed by Sister Moon and Brother Sun (who, technically, didn’t qualify for the pantheon but the tradition said otherwise and the Church was reluctant to modernise what was written in quite good Latin, most likely due to lack of language proficiency of the clerks), shouting random names at the alleged devil who, conveniently, started twitching its right hand in spams.

‘What are you doing?’ Evangelina asked.

‘Cramps!’ Helga groaned.

‘I can feel the power of the holy coming,’ Griselda yelled, trying to drown out the quarrel. ‘Woo! You are a powerful witch hunter!’

Master Bertrand stopped for a moment, blinking. Was it outside the script? Griselda wasn’t entirely certain how the demons behaved. Maybe she was being too complacent?

Before she could ponder possible solutions, the witch hunter returned to his incantations.

‘Bombs, now,’ Griselda whispered.

The witches dropped them, making the smoke explode and create a rainbow wall between the man and the “devil”.

‘Why these?’

‘We raided a children’s carnival a month ago ‘cause it had an imp infestation,’ Helga replied. ‘Aw, aw, aw! My arm!’

‘I can see my powers dwindle! Woo, you have won! Curse you, witch hunter!’ Griselda turned around, seeing the smoke reach the ceiling. ‘Now!’

The witches ran out from the sacristy to fresh air, coughing. Griselda looked at the moon and then at Carla, who was sleeping on a crate. She shrugged. Even without a sight of the flying Lucy, the display must have been convincing enough as a loud laughter followed by a rather frantic coughing reached them from behind.

The three witches were standing in front of Lucy who ignored them, grazing in the garden.

‘You, Miss, are a headache,’ Griselda sighed, petting the goat behind her ear.

‘I still think we should’ve cooked a hearty stew,’ Evangelina said grimly. ‘Wouldn’t even be too much hassle – she’s already eaten all the herbs!’

‘They’ll grow back. I’ll just put a fence,’ Griselda shrugged.

‘What about her assignment, though?’ Helga asked.

Griselda raised a tip of her mouth in a thoughtful grin, while walking back to the academy building.

‘What if we dress as an hourglass?’

‘With your waist? Good luck,’ Helga chuckled, stopping the very moment she saw her friend’s face.

‘Maybe I could just work on your waists?’ Evangelina tapped her chin. ‘This would be an idea.’

‘Or maybe you can just try to work on your skills,’ Helga replied.

Evangelina snapped her fingers and moved on faster, forcing Griselda to strut to keep up with the pace.

Lucy was moving her nose through the grass, trying to find something more tasteful than the usual greenery. Suddenly, she hit something wet and slimy. She looked carefully at the object which croaked.

‘I’m a frog. You don’t eat toads,’ a thin voice reverberated in the air. ‘Don’t even try.’

If Lucy could shrug, she would’ve probably done it by now. Instead, in her goat ways, she perked up her ears and turned around.

‘I swear, when I find Evangelina…’ the toad jumped in the air, plotting its revenge.