Let the fun begin...

Boscha screamed as the darkness swallowed her up, hurling her through the air for what felt like an eternity, her hands flailing about for anything to hold. The Ghost Host's laughter whirled around her like a gust of wind that pulled her deeper into the abyss until finally, she belly flopped to the floor. After bouncing a couple times and sliding to a halt, Boscha slowly peeled her cheek off the worn rug that stopped her fall. She had just enough time to see a long hallway stretching out before someone else landed on top of her and she was back to studying the gaudy pattern on the rug.

"Ow," groaned the loser who had used her for a crash mat.

Boscha snarled. "Would you get off of me Skar-" she froze, halfway spun around. "Oh, it's you."

Wincing as she rubbed her tender head, Willow frowned back at her. "Nice to see you too, Boscha. Where are we?" She got to her feet, looking around. "Where is everyone?"

"Ugh, what are you talking about Half-a-Witch?" Getting to her feet and dusting herself off, Boscha looked up to the fireplace to tell that idiot Ghost Host just how hokey it was, but froze when she found herself staring at the portrait of the family Round-Ears had freaked out over. Wait, but that painting was in the entrance of the mansion. Did that mean…? Boscha turned in a complete circle.

They had been dumped into the middle of the mansion foyer, with what Boscha recognized as the main hall laid out in front and behind, she smiled, the front doors. The same demonic suits of armor stood at attention, but, when she turned to head to the doors, rusted metal scraped together and the two statues stepped down from their posts, halberds lifted.

"Boscha!" Hissed Willow. "Get away from the doors!"

"Not when we've got the chance to leave!" Boscha yelled, bolting for the doors and pulling on the handle. The door did not budge. "What the?" Grunting, Bosch tried to pull the handle down, ramming her shoulder against the wood, but she may as well have been trying to hit a stone wall. Biting her lip against the throbbing pain in her shoulder, Boscha rammed the door again just as a shadow loomed over her, and she turned. "Oh Titan."

Both suits of armor stood over her, their halberds raised high over their heads. There was a sudden rumble and a thick vine speared through the chest plate of one, lifting the entire suit off the ground and flinging it away. Taking advantage of the surprise, Boscha drew a spell circle around her ankle and leapt at the other armor, kicking it in the faceplace and igniting the helmet in fire, sending it flying across the room. Landing in a crouch, she sprang from the floor and raced past Willow into the hall. "Run!"

The two witches tore down the hallway as fast as they could, neither looking back to see if they were being followed. Eventually, Boscha slid to a stop and Willow did the same, both fighting to catch their breath.

"What the heck was that?" Boscha gasped.

Willow looked in the direction they had come from, the foyer nothing more than a pinprick to them. "I don't know, but I'm guessing it means we can't leave the mansion. Remember what the Ghost Host told us? If we want to get out, we'll have to break the curse. It must have split us up in pairs to solve the riddle."

"But why did I have to get stuck with you?"

"Hey," Willow glared at the grugby captain. "I'm not happy about it either, but we really don't have much of a choice now, do we?"

Crossing her arms, Boscha turned her head so she didn't have to look at her. Half-a-Witch had a point, but that didn't mean she was about to agree with her. This was the human's fault. Why did she have to agree to freeing a bunch of souls cursed to stay in this mansion, when they could have just simply stayed outside or ignored that weirdo Ghost Host? The next time she saw that round-eared dweeb, she was going to use her head as the next game's grugby ball. Without Amity protecting her.

"Boscha,"

Pulling her lip back in a snarl so her fangs showed, Boscha met Willow's gaze. "Yeah, fine, whatever, let's figure out this stupid curse so we can get out of here."

"Thank you," Willow looked around the hallway. "Now, we just need to figure out where to start. How did the first part go again?"

"How should I know? I'm not on the Oracle track. I don't even think that was a real riddle, just some stupid poem that ghost came up with to mess with us."

Willow ignored Boscha's ramblings, recalling the Ghost Host's words. Oddly enough, only one part of the riddle stuck in her head. The smiling Jack - Under a moonlit sheen - Look for the felled - In somewhere that's green.

"Somewhere that's green…wasn't there a greenhouse attached to the side of the mansion when we were walking up to it?"

"Of course that's the first place you'd think to look."

Signing, Willow shook her head. "I'm serious Boscha, I think that's where the Ghost Host wants us to start. Unless, you remember anything different than what they told us?"

Boscha raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I remember what they told us! They said to look for...for…" her voice faltered as the words blurred in her memory, leaving only four lines to play in her mind as the rest warped together. "'Look for the felled in somewhere that's green'..." she clenched her fists and growled. "Well, how do we know it's a greenhouse and not something else? Maybe some hallway or room that's got green wallpaper?"

Willow shrugged. "I don't know, but the greenhouse is probably our best place to start. Besides, the first words were 'the smiling Jack', and I think I know what that is." She remembered Luz talking about them to her and Gus during lunch one day at school, when the weather had started to cool, about a human tradition of taking large orange gourds and carving faces into their flesh. She had used a name for them that was both strange and oddly fitting, after having shown a picture to them of one she had carved with her mother. Jack-o-lantern. If something as outlandish as a "pump-kin" did exist, it would be growing in the greenhouse.

"But," Boscha frowned. "Why would something from the Human World be here?"

"I don't know." Looking down the two directions of the hallway, Willow began to walk the way they had been running, pausing only to summon a light spell. "But whatever it is, we're going to need it if we want to get out of here and free all the souls trapped inside. Stay here if you want, I'm going ahead." Willow had barely taken two steps before Boscha was at her side, a ball of flames hovering in her palm.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Leaf Girl."

Ignoring the name jab, Willow walked on, her eyes scanning the hallway as the shadows slithered away from the light cast by their spells. Formal portraits lined the walls of many different witches and even a few demons, all poised in the same stiff-backed posture she had seen for the Pandor family. There was something eerie about the vast assortment of faces that stared at the witchlings as they walked by, an almost wistful gaze that followed them. Even Boscha kept glancing at the surrounding pictures, a hint of unease tugging at her eyes.

The walls and carpet all held the same deep violet shade, patterns of silver, white, and black swirling about in different shapes. It made Willow feel like she was walking over snowflakes drifting in the wind. Had it not been from years of neglect and time, she would have found the designs to be pretty. Instead, a thick blanket of dust had settled over the material, sending up clouds any time she or Boscha moved too quickly. At one point, a huge dust cloud poofed up in their faces. Instantly, Boscha's nose wrinkled.

"Boscha…" Willow said slowly. "Don't…"

"I-I-I'm," She pinched her nose, her body clenched for a moment, and then relaxed. "I'm good." She took one step and let out an explosive sneeze, sending even more dust up into the air. Coughing, Willow waved her hand in the air in an attempt to clear away the dust, placing her other hand on the wall for support.

Cold seeped from the wall against her fingers, making Willow jerk back from beneath the portait she stood by. Whoever the picture was of she could not tell, the face had been slashed apart. Silver-white light bled from beneath the frame and swirled together, forming into a shimmering orb of spectral light. When the last of the light left the frame, the orb flitted up and around the witchlings, a soft trilling noise following it as it moved.

"Ah, a little friend," Smiling, Willow held her hand out to the orb.

Boscha snorted. "Wow, you really are dumb if you think some ghost ball is going to float up to you." Her face instantly fell when the orb darted to sift through Willow's fingers, making her giggle.

"It's okay, we're not here to cause trouble."

"Right, we have a human for that."

Willow shot a glare over her shoulder at Boscha and turned back to the orb. "Are you one of the happy haunts the Ghost Host said would help us?"

The ball of spectral light bobbed up and down.

"I think it knows the Ghost Host," Willow whispered to Boscha eagerly. "Maybe it can help us?"

All three of Boscha's eyes slowly blinked and she rapped a knuckle against Willow's forehead, making her wince. "Are you trying to be funny? Or has all that plant magic turned your brain to mulch? We're not asking some random ghost ball for help! We're already in deep enough, thanks to your dumb human promising that psychotic ghost-demon we'd break the curse!"

Willow swatted Boscha's hand away and rubbed her head. "At least I'm not some snobby jock who cares more about her social status than helping others!"

"But at least I dont get kicked out of birthday parties because I can't do magic!"

There was a rush of air as the orb darted between them and around their heads, whispering urgently, then back into the middle of the hall.

Clenching her fists, Willow turned away and walked towards the orb. It bobbed up and down at her and bumped against her arm, whispering when she ran a hand over its translucent surface, tickling her palm and making her smile. "We're supposed to find somewhere that's green. Do you think you could show us where to go?"

Trilling, the orb wove around Willow's shoulders and floated down the hallway, only pausing briefly to make sure the girl's were following.

Boscha held back so Willow stayed ahead, not wanting to look at her after what they had just said to each other. It wasn't like what she said was true. Willow had been kicked out of Amity's birthday party, she remembered watching her leave, head bent in an effort to hide her tears from the shame. Of course she knew why Amity did it, everyone there that day did. It was because what she had told her was true; Willow couldn't perform even the most basic of skills back then, so why bother wasting time with some weakling when time could be spent with those who had power?

So, if what she had said was true, why did she feel like she took a burning grugby ball to the gut? Ever since that day Luz had challenged her to a game on behalf of Willow, even though Boscha had won by finding the Rusty Smidge, something had felt off. Whatever Boscha and her girls did, whether it was a normal routine or spur of the moment, felt different. No, it felt wrong. Wrong, because no matter how right Boscha felt, the sting meant for the target hit her too. And that made her angry.

Stupid human, coming here and changing everything! She was the reason why Willow was no longer the school doormat for Boscha to wipe her feet on, why more and more students were taking multiple tracks at once, and why Amity had completely cut ties with her group. In fact, Boscha narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, ever since Grom, Amity had done more than gone soft around Willow and her human pet. Any time she and that round-eared freak were in the same space, Amity would completely lose her mind. What was with her tripping over her words? Why did she go all red in the face? All for some human?

Frowning, Boscha stared at the carpet as she mulled over her thoughts, not realizing she had walked by Willow, and slammed face-first into thick glass. "Ow!" Her third eye throbbed from the impact and she slapped her hand over it, hissing, her two main eyes squinting.

Willow covered her mouth to keep from laughing when Boscha glared back at her. "I did try to warn you, but you ignored me."

"Try a little harder next time." Blinking to clear her vision, Boscha stared at the frosted glass window in front of her and what lay beyond. The remains of a door lay scattered along the ground, either broken by someone trying to get in or from the years of abandonment. What looked like thick ropes hung from the ceiling and along the walls, spilling over each other across the floor. An overpowering scent of damp air and dirt rolled out from the broken glass, crawling up Boscha and Willow's noses. Between them, the ghost orb shivered.

Taking a breath, Willow stepped through the frame and sent her light spell ahead to hover in the center of the greenhouse. Her spell illuminated not ropes on the floor, but massive vines. Thick and green, they blanketed the once smooth tiled floor, the tiles now broken apart to reveal the damp earth beneath. A flash of lightning from the storm outside filled the entirety of the space in a bright white, showing more vines spilling out from beneath something just beneath Willow's light spell. Something big, round, and orange.

Glass crunched behind her and Boscha walked to her side, staring at the odd-looking thing from which the vines seemed to be growing. "What the heck is that?"

"I think," Willow carefully stepped over the sentient vines. "That's our Jack."

It was not smiling or under a moonlit sheen, but it did match how Luz had described: a large, round gourd that easily rose to Willow's shoulders, ridges running all alongs it's lumpy surface, a rope-like stem sprouting from the top to curl down to the floor. When Willow placed a hand to its surface, she felt tiny bumps running all over the hollow flesh. It sat upon a nest of vines clustered together so tightly, it looked almost like a throne. The two witchlings paced around the pumpkin to study it, trying to see just what made the strange orange object so important.

"Look for the felled in somewhere that's green," Crouching down beside the vines, Willow pushed at them with a finger. "What would have fallen here?"

Boscha frowned at the mass of vines, taking a step back. "You're the plant expert, you tell - me!" Her heel caught on something and she lurched back to land on the vines. What was with her playing the part of the clutz this night? Grunting, Boscha pushed herself up to glare at the vine she had tripped over, just as another flash of lightning filled the room, and glinted off something metal. "Hey, Leaf Girl,"

Willow looked up from the pumpkin with a glare, but when she looked to what Boscha was pointing at, her eyes widened. Imbedded into the ground, handle paralleled to the floor and wrapped in a thin vine, was a hatchet. The blade was sunk halfway through the floor, gleaming silver in the magic-cast light. Boscha scrambled to her feet and stood over the handle.

"Look for the felled, in somewhere that's green."

While the floor was swarmed by the vines, the space around the hatchet was surprisingly clear, save for the one wrapped around the wooden handle. The floor around the sunken blade was stained by a blackened shape, but even with the light spell, it was hard to make out what. Boscha shared a curious look with Willow and wrapped her hands around the smooth wood. The ghost orb, which had remained at the door to the greenhouse, winked out for a moment before reforming, and Boscha briefly released her grip. Green flames rippled along the blade in the ground and up along the handle. She then steeled herself and, hissing from the effort, ripped the hatchet from the floor. The flames dispersed into the floor along the darkened smudge, and everything went still.

Willow looked around the room for anything that moved, but aside from the ghost orb at the door, the greenhouse stayed silent. Hefting the hatchet over her shoulder, Boscha slowly spun in a circle.

"Nothing happened.."

Frowning, Willow looked at the spot where the hatchet had been, studying the dark smudge. Just off to the side was the clump on which the pumpkin sat, curiously close to whatever had fallen. Almost as if they were covering something.

"Boscha, do you see anything under those vines?"

Boscha knelt down to peer beneath the vine nest, summoning a fire spell. In the flickering light, her eyes began to widen and she slowly reached through the vines. "It looks like a...book?"

The vines snapped around her wrist and she screamed, the hatchet falling from her hand as she tried to pry herself free. A deep moan filled the room as the pumpkin shuddered and creaked, the orange hide bubbling, and it began to expand. Two bright yellow slits appeared on one side and sliced open in triangles, another line zig-zagging to create a gaping mouth that let out a gurgling roar. Flames spewed from between the jagged teeth as the pumpkin rose up on legs of tightly-woven vines, easily now three times its original size.

"I hate this place!" Boscha screamed, her arms pinned to the monster-gourd's side. The giant stared down Willow and belched flames at her, barely giving her the chance to dodge out of the way.

Rolling on her side, Willow drew a spell and slapped the ground, sending her magic deep into the earth. Within seconds, the floor beside the pumpkin erupted as a large four-petaled pink plant with wide eyes and a gaping maw shot out, slamming into the monster. Boscha yelped as the pumpkin was thrown back, her fingers scrabbling over the vines holding her in an iron grip. Clutched in her hand was a small, leather bound book, completely covered by the thick vines that refused to burn away when she summoned a fire spell. When she tried to change her nails into claws to cut the vines, Willow's plant-creature rammed the pumpkin's hide with its teeth, breaking her concentration.

"Will you forget the plant-slicing thing?!"

The room jolted around her and she screamed as the pumpkin came crashing down on the floor, the petals of Willow's plant closing over its face. Smoke began to pour from beneath the petals and the creature lunged back with a shriek. It was at that moment Boscha caught sight of the discarded hatchet only a few inches from where she lay. Feeling the pumpkin lurch up, she made a desperate grab for the handle, the tips of her fingers brushing smooth wood.

Willow stumbled back and dropped to the floor as her plant was chucked over her head, hitting the ground with an earth-shattering crash and vanishing in a burst of magic. Gasping, she stared up at the pumpkin and the flames spilling from its grinning mouth. Suddenly, the gourd jolted back with a scream and Willow heard the sound of metal hitting something flesh. Roaring, the pumpkin stumbled forward and belched its fiery breath at the witch, but a shape darted in front of her and redirected the flames with a spell circle.

"Hey, Jack!" Boscha yelled, lifting the hatchet over her head. "Smile!" She hurled the weapon with all her might and the blade sailed through the air, slicing through the vine connecting the pumpkin's stem to the ground.

The creature froze, the fire in its eyes instantly going out, and it crashed to the ground, erupting in a mass of orange goo and seeds. Willow and Boscha hit the dirt,

barely managing to avoid the wave of pumpkin guts. For a moment, neither of them wanted to get up, preferring to lay on the floor as they panted for air, cold sweat beading across their faces. A couple patches of vines burned with flames from the fight, their light quickly dying out.

Silverly-white light spilled over the witchlings as the ghost orb drifted over them and let out a soft trill. Groaning, Willow sat up and let the orb sit in her hand. Turning around, she stared at Boscha who was slowly getting to her feet. "Boshca, you saved us."

Flicking a seed off of her shoulder, Boscha unwound her hair from her bun to redo it. "Don't act so surprised, Leaf Girl. I had to save my butt too, all for this." She slid her toe under the journal and kicked it up in the air to catch. "Whatever this is, that gourd did not want us to have it."

Willow got to her feet and took the journal from her hand. Opening the cover, she frowned at the strange language written in a surprisingly careful hand. It was not any language she was familiar with from the Boiling Isles, only the dates she understood, along with what no doubt was the family name; Pandor. That and one name written on the first page: Chiaro.

"Weird," Closing the journal, Willow looked from the ghost orb to Boscha. "We should probably get out of here, head back to the entrance of the mansion. I'm guessing everyone else will be there."

"Fine by me," Reaching down, Boscha hefted the hatchet from the floor to her shoulder, shrugging when Willow stared at her. "What? You got a better idea what to do with a silvered weapon?"

Willow sighed and shook her head, turning to the ghost orb. "Hey little friend, would you want to stick with us? I'm sure our friends will be happy to meet you."

The ghost orb bobbed up and down excitedly and she giggled. With that, the two witchlings hurried out of the greenhouse and back into the hallway towards the main entrance of the mansion. Neither of them noticed the black smudge on the floor that had been pinned by the hatchet was gone, a single rust-colored smear where the blade had pierced the floor.

Yeah, I picked on Boscha a bit in this chapter.