Chapter Six: The Boons
The three witches were suddenly back by the river, and the judges were in a huddle again. When they finished their consultation, Odin spoke to them.
"Although the competition did not go as planned, we've decided to award the round to Tiffany again. While all of you came to terms with your adversaries, the young lady managed to be served tea and scones by her opponent." He smiled at Mildred. "I'm sorry, my dear, but while you also had tea, you were forced to make it."
"Tea?" Hermione asked.
"I'll explain later," Mildred offered.
IT IS TIME FOR THE BOONS, Death pointed out.
Odin smiled. "Thank you for reminding me." He turned back to the witches. "Do you know about the boons? Each of you may ask for one thing, be it animal, vegetable or mineral, to aid you in the contest. Whatever you ask for, the others will get its counterpart from their world. Mildred, what would you like?"
Mildred bit her lip. "Well, I was taught that a witch should always have her hat, her broom, and her cat. I already have my hat . . ."
"We can do that," Merlin said after a look at the gods in the clouds. "All three of you will get the witches tools."
Mildred's reticence became a smile. Her cat appeared suddenly, along with her broom. She immediately picked up the cat and hugged it. Tabby, in turn, began purring at once.
"Your broom is broken," Tiffany pointed out.
"I did that on my very first day of school. It flies well enough since I fixed it but it does have that bend in it. That's why I call it Banana Broom."
"You named your broom?"
Hermione and Tiffany shared smiles. Then Hermione heard a growl. Crookshanks was sitting in front of her, with a broom and her hat. Hermione saw with surprise that it was Ron's Cleansweep Seven. She noted to herself that it was a definite advantage for her if she needed to fly. She had no idea what to do with the hat or Crookshanks, but the cat had already decided to take care of itself.
Now it was Tiffany's turn to be surprised. Her broom appeared suddenly along with the cat. But the cat seemed to be covered with a blue mist that quickly dispersed. "Oh, no," she said out loud. The blue mist was several dozen MacFeegles scattering to the wind. Somehow they must have known that Mildred would ask for a cat and they had hitched a ride.
The cat sniffed the air and realized it was free of the small creatures. It immediately bolted over the nearest hillock, never to be seen again.
"How odd," Merlin said as he watched the cat run away.
"It hates crowds," Tiffany explained.
"And the blue . . . whatever it was?"
"It t'wer nothin'," a wee voice cried.
Everyone looked around for the voice while Tiffany tried to think of an excuse. "SHUT UP," she shouted at the MacFeegles, then quickly added, "cat."
"That was your cat?" Hermione asked.
"It's a magic cat," Tiffany said hurriedly. "It will be there if I need it."
Hermione hid her worry. If Tiffany Aching had a magical cat to help her, she had a greater advantage than a fast broom. To hid her reaction she pointed out that Tiffany did not have a hat.
"The sky is her hat," Mildred said thoughtfully. "Mistress Weatherwax told me that while I was making the tea. The sky is her hat and her cloak is the wind."
Hermione was left out as the other two witches shared a smile.
Merlin turned to Tiffany. "And your boon, young lady?"
Tiffany thought for a moment. She could ask for pictsies but then she would be forced to reveal them. And they had made an effort, amazingly successful, to keep themselves secret. She could ask for help but . . . what kind of help.
"It's all headology," Tiffany said to herself. Granny Weatherwax told her that. It wasn't what was going on, it was what people thought was going on. And she knew something was going on with this contest. The gods were watching, but they weren't paying attention. How else could the MacFeegles get away with smuggling themselves to this world? And how did they know about this world. Who was this wizard they talked to?
"Tiffany?" Merlin reminded her.
Tiffany gave him a simple, little-girl smile. She would ask for something simple. Something to keep the pictsies occupied while she took part in this contest. When her stomach gave a low growl, she decided to ask for something else also.
"Well, I live on a farm, and I make cheese. Could I have some cheese? And a bottle of whiskey . . . for my cat."
"Oh, ye bonny hag," Rob Anybody said lovingly from his hiding place.
"Make that two bottles."
Merlin looked surprised, but shrugged his shoulders. Two bottles of whiskey appeared in front of Tiffany along with a brick of cheese from the barn.
Hermione almost laughed as a wheel of cheddar cheese appeared in front of her along with two bottles of Ogden's Fire Whiskey.
Mildred let out a snicker when she looked down. It was a wedge of Gouda with two bottles of whiskey from the local distillery. "Whatever are we going to do with all of this cheese."
"I was thinking of lunch," Tiffany suggested. "Hermione, you could ask for bread."
"That will be my treat," Merlin said as he waved his hand. Several loaves of bread appeared, as well as a large table to eat at. He waved his hand again and the cheeses and whiskey flew to the table as well.
"Excuse me," Odin pointed out. "We still have one boon to grant. Hermione?"
"A friend," Hermione said without hesitation. "A close male companion. Preferably one who is wearing glasses."
"You've been thinking about this?" Tiffany asked and Hermione nodded.
"Can we do that?" Odin asked looking at the figures in the clouds. "Can we?"
"I don't think they're paying attention," Tiffany pointed out. Something about the way she said that caught Hermione's attention. Looking at the clouds, she realized that the young girl was correct.
"Isn't that odd," Hermione said softly, so that only the other two witches could hear.
"Very," Tiffany replied in the same low voice.
Mildred looked surprised but she noticed the serious tones. Then she understood what they meant. Merlin had told her the gods were having this contest for their own entertainment. But not one of these gods was paying attention to what was going on. The other two witches had already realized there was something more to this contest than they were told. But what?
While the girls were whispering to each other, Odin managed to get the attention of Zeus.
"Ah," Zeus said. "The next contest. Finding a hidden object."
"Not quite yet," Odin corrected. "Hermione Granger's request is to have a friend help her."
"Go ahead," Zeus said with a slightly bored tone. "Then get on with it."
Odin nodded. The boy looked up at Hermione and smiled. "I could have wagered you'd ask for Harry Potter. I like the way you added the point about wearing glasses."
"YOU CAN'T FORCE . . ." Harry was shouting as he suddenly appeared. He looked up and saw Hermione, giving her a weak smile. "I was talking to Uncle Vernon."
"Harry, I'm sorry to drag you away like this but I might need your help."
"If it means not being with the Dursleys, I'll do anything for you." They shared a grin. "Now you have to tell me who everyone is and how you managed to get me here."
"It's a long story," Odin said as he interrupted the two friends.
"Harry," Hermione said with a smile, "This is Odin. He's the ruling god of Norse mythology. That's Merlin the Magician, and the skeleton is Death."
"And why am I not surprised by any of this?"
"A gift from the gods. They don't want anyone going barmy on them."
IF WE BRING THE OTHER TWO COMPANIONS, Death pointed out, WE ONLY HAVE TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING ONCE. IT WILL SAVE TIME.
"Agreed," Merlin added, then turned to Mildred. "Will I perchance meet my namesake?"
Mildred nodded. "He even wears glasses."
Merlin Langspear appeared at that moment. He was the same age and height as Mildred and he did have glasses, similar in shape to Harry Potter's. But he had brown hair to Harry's black. Like Harry, he was dressed in jeans and a shirt but he was also holding a staff.
"Millie?" he said in wonder.
"Explanations will come shortly," the adult Merlin said. "We have one more guest to arrive."
Tiffany Aching understood. She did have a close male companion, although close was not a term either of them would use. The Duke's son was the only boy, except for her baby brother, she had ever associated with. He would be little more use to her than the cat was. On the other hand, he wouldn't run away. She held her breath as the boon was granted for her.
The boy appeared. He was Tiffany's age and height with a mop of sandy-coloured hair on his head. Like the other two boys, he was dressed in jeans and a shirt. He was also wearing glasses. And he was holding a strange box with a strap.
"Now for lunch and the explanation," Odin noted.
"Then," Tiffany whispered to the boy, "you will tell me exactly who you are."