Chapter Eight: Treasure Hunt
Tiffany Aching eyed the strange boy carefully as Merlin explained the situation to the new arrivals, and answered their questions over a lunch of bread and cheese. The whiskey had mysteriously disappeared. Tiffany explained that the cat took all the bottles, and apologized, despite Joe McClaine's confused stare. Then the witches were shown their next task. Each would be given a clue about what object they were looking for, then they would have to find it. Each treasure could only be obtained through some form of magic.
Tiffany took the paper which held her clue and glared at the boy next to her. She began walking away, knowing the boy would follow. She stopped and turned once she had reached a line of trees.
"Now, who are you?"
The boy turned the strange box around and opened a panel. Inside Tiffany could see what looked like a miniature shield, something that looked like a small weapon, and a small book. The boy took out the small book and closed the box. He opened it to show the one page inside. It had a picture of him, and a brief description.
"I'm Joe 90, most special agent for the World Intelligence Network."
"I'm very impressed. Does that mean anything?"
"Not here," Joe admitted. "Not now. But that's who I am."
"You're a secret agent?" Mildred Hubble asked as she stepped from behind some trees. "At your age?"
Tiffany stared as Mildred and the boy, Merlin, revealed themselves.
"You followed me?"
"It's my fault," Mildred admitted. "I heard you ask him who he was. I was just curious."
"You mean you were nosy," Tiffany said.
"I'm sorry," Mildred said sadly.
"Why? Witches are supposed to be nosy. It's our job to know other people's business."
"Now don't you feel better, Hermione," Harry Potter was heard to say. He and Hermione Granger stepped out of from behind the trees to join the group. "Hermione was curious about why Mildred was following you."
"You mean she was nosy," Mildred said.
Hermione smiled at the young boy. "So, the question is: Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"That's two questions," Tiffany pointed out.
"I'm impressed," Harry smirked at Hermione. "How does it feel to be corrected?"
"Harry, when I want your help, I'll ask for it."
"You already did."
"Excuse me," Joe said. "Could I answer the question? Then you can explain to me what's going on. If those are real gods then why didn't they know I was the wrong Roland."
Joe quickly explained everything, including the fact that he knew everything that Roland, the Duke's son, knew. He concluded by saying, "They ended up choosing me because I was wearing these glasses."
Tiffany was surprised by the revelation. And intrigued. "Could your machine record the thoughts of those gods?"
Joe shook his head. "The cloud figures? I doubt it. I wouldn't even know how to focus on them."
"It was a good thought," Merlin Langspear acknowledged, "but might I suggest a different course. We've all been hinted to about how the gods aren't paying attention to what's going on, and that they have some secret plan. The clues they gave us could give us an idea of how they think."
Mildred smiled. "That's a wonderful idea." She opened up the piece of paper she was given. "It's a poem, I think. Thunderous waters, slithering danger, caverns end."
"Mine says the same thing," Hermione said, showing Mildred her paper.
"And mine." Tiffany showed them her paper as well. "They want us to hunt the same thing." Tiffany thought briefly. Her first thought told her that she had no idea what the clues meant. Her second thought told her that she had five people she could ask for help. Her third thought said that would be cheating, but that it was not a problem.
The second thought paused. If it was a contest they should play fairly. But it was a contest, the third thought reminded the second thought, that appears to have no purpose. Ah, you've got me there, the second thought admitted and conceded the point. The conflict resolved, Tiffany asked, "Does anyone know what this means?"
"Yeah," Joe admitted. "It's easy. It's a cave filled with snakes that's hidden behind a waterfall. It was in an Indiana Jones movie. The fourth one, I think."
"There were only three," Hermione pointed out.
Joe smiled. "Five, in my world."
"Does your world have DVD's?" Harry asked. "Maybe we could rent them."
"What are DVD's?" Merlin asked.
Tiffany looked at Joe. "I think, Harry Potter, that the answer is no, regardless of what the question means. Anyway, we need to find a waterfall."
"We go upriver," Merlin pointed out, "the land rises so we should find a waterfall fairly quickly."
"Together?" Mildred asked. "Won't THEY notice?"
"We need a plan," Merlin pointed out.
"We all have brooms. Can we all fly?"
Tiffany answered no. It was one of the finer points she still had to learn.
Mildred paused. "Banana broom isn't very good around water, and I left it back at the clearing where we had lunch." She paused. "I can fly if I have to but . . ."
Merlin sighed. "Millie still has a fear of heights. She can fly if she has to." He grabbed her hand and squeezed. "But she doesn't have to. We'll walk with Tiffany and Joe."
"How's this?" Harry offered. "They gave Hermione a Cleansweep Seven. We'll fly ahead to see how far it is. If the river bends, we'll fly overland. One pair can follow that way. The other pair can walk along the river. We all keep our eyes open. Once we find where we're going, we'll try to get to everyone else as soon as we can."
Tiffany smiled. "You'll get there first and let us know what happened. And you get us to cooperate with letting you win this round."
"Except," Hermione interrupted, "we don't want this round to end too quickly. The longer we drag this out, the more time we have to figure out what is going on."
"Do we trust each other?" Tiffany asked.
"Of course we do," Mildred told her. "We're all witches. Except for the boys." She looked at the smirks on the other two girls. "Fine. Then we'll trade partners."
"Mildred," Hermione said in a teasing voice. "You're supposed to be the foolish witch. You're not supposed to come up with such a brilliant idea."
Tiffany Aching sat behind Harry Potter as he flew into the air on the Cleansweep Seven. He shouted back to her. "I usually fly a Nimbus. It's a much faster broom."
"I like the comfortable ride," Tiffany shouted in return. "Is it a spell?"
"It is. Hang on. I'm going to circle to let them know there is an overland route."
Tiffany looked as Harry banked the broom and saw the mountain range ahead. It was much closer than it should have been but she guessed, correctly, that the gods had something to do with it. As she looked down, Hermione and Merlin waved to them to show they understood. That was when Tiffany realized she had no idea of what happened to the pictsies.
"Rob," she said quietly to herself.
"What?" a wee voice asked from behind her shoulder.
"Just making sure you were there," she told him.
"What was that?" Harry asked.
"It sure is lovely up here," she called back, and Harry agreed.
Hermione smiled as Harry showed them the direction to walk. Merlin nodded to show he understood and they began walking.
"Hermione, I was curious. You said Harry was a friend from school."
"Ever since our first year."
Merlin seemed confused. "Then, if you study together, how can one of you be a witch and the other a wizard?"
Hermione paused. "I'm guessing there's a difference between our worlds. All women are witches and all men are wizards, but the magic is the same. It doesn't matter what school I go to. Because I can do magic, I will always be called a witch. And Harry will always be a wizard."
Merlin nodded. "That is curious. In my world, schools are always for witches or wizards. We learn most of the same spells as far as the basics go, but we have different advanced spells."
"That is strange," Hermione admitted. "At least to me. What are the differences?"
"Well, you've seen Millie's broom. Witches can fly for one thing. It's something most wizards never get the knack of. On the other hand, I'm advanced for my age as a shape shifter."
The two paused as the reached the crest of a hill. The outline of the mountains could be seen ahead of them, no more than two miles away. As they stood there, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby.
"Joe said to expect snakes, Hermione. Here's an excellent chance to show you what I mean."
Merlin held his hands in front of him like he was imitating a rabbit. He disappeared in a flash (much like the flash from a camera). There was another flash, and a mongoose stood where Merlin had been. The mongoose rain into the bushes, and quickly ran out again, followed by Crookshanks. The boy suddenly reappeared wearing a sheepish grin. And the cat gave Hermione a hurt look, as though to ask, 'don't you trust me?' A moment later, the cat disappeared back into the bushes.
"They gave us the slow route deliberately, because of me," Joe McClaine said casually.
Mildred picked up a rock and threw it into the river, smiled as it skipped. "Not just you. But I don't mind, really. They all know I'm not very good at magic, and you can't do any magic." She sighed. "And this contest is to test our skills." She sighed again. "And Tiffany doesn't really need help, not with her magic cat."
Joe adjusted his glasses in surprise. In his mind, Roland did the same thing. "Tiffany Aching doesn't have a magic cat."
"But it appeared surrounded in a blue mist."
"Blue? That wasn't the cat. That was . . ." Roland's thoughts tapped Joe's mind on the shoulder and showed him a fearful memory. A six-inch tall, blue man in a kilt was staring a monster in the face at close range and telling him that if he ever did that again he would get a "fistful of haed". (The haed, sorry, the head being the hardest part of a pictsie, it is often used instead of a fist, hence the quaint saying.) ". . . probably nothing."
Mildred frowned at the way Joe finished the sentence, then looked around. "Oh, no, I've lost Tabby. I shouldn't have let her walk."
Not too far away, Tabby was sitting and watching intensely as a small blue man covered with leaves chirped at him. "Das righ', ye scunner cat. Cheep. Cheep. Try ta eat the purty birdy hidin' in dese leaves. Cheep. Cheep."
Tabby was intrigued. He swatted at the leaves to reveal a shock of red hair. The cat leaned its head forward until it was nose to nose with the man.
"'at's righ', ya wee kitty. Take a bite, an I'll show ya wha' to no do anymore."
Tabby licked his face.
"Nay, ya fool cat. Bite. Wit' yer teeth."
Tabby licked his face again.
The little man began to laugh.
"Tha' tickles. Stop it." He pushed Tabby's head away.
Tabby began purring. The little man's eyes lit up with delight.
"Ya like tha', eh."
The man would push against Tabby's head one way, then the other, occasionally receiving another lick for his efforts. He was too busy laughing to notice the pair of eyes looking down at him.
"What have you found, Tabby? Joe, look. It's a strange little man."
"I'm no strange," the man said, "I'm daft."
"You can't be daft," Mildred said with a laugh.
"Can an' am. Me name's Daft Wullie. They wouldna' call me that' if I wasn't." Daft Wullie paused. "ACH! I let ya see me. I'm no suppose to do tha'."
Mildred laughed again. "Well, if anyone asks, I'll say I never saw you."
"Ye'd do tha'?" Daft Wullie asked in surprise. "Ye mus' be a fearsome hag ta lie li'e tha'."
"Hag?"
"He means witch," Joe said carefully, then added too carefully, "please don't be offended."
"I'm not offended," Mildred said in surprise. "Willie, how did you know I was a witch?"
"Tha's Daft Wullie, um, Miss Medium-Sized Bigjob Hag, um Ma'am."
Mildred couldn't help but giggle. She understood the reference. Hermione was taller than her and Tiffany was shorter. Hence, she would be medium sized. And she was clearly big compared to Daft Wullie.
"Daft Wullie, that is a mouthful. Why don't you just call me Mildred, or Millie like Merlin does."
"I couldna' do tha'." Tabby nudged him with his head. "Well . . . Mildred." He stared in surprise at what he had done and was still staring when Tabby licked his face again.
"I guess that means we're friends, Daft Wullie," Mildred said, trying not to laugh at the little man's reaction. "And I can see you've already made friends with Tabby." Mildred bit her pigtail as she began to think. "Daft Wullie, would you like to come with us? We're having an adventure."
Daft Wullie nodded in delight. He had made friends with a hag, and with the hag's familiar. That was something no male pictsie had ever done before. This would show everyone, without a shadow of doubt, that Daft Wullie was well and truly Daft.
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A/N: just another note to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Ouatic-7 mentioned having to look up Joe 90, so I thought if anyone else was interested, the web site is with the www in front of it.
