The Witches #3

         It was not often the three witches were called before the Witch Queen, a fine lady with iridescent, flower sprouting hair and kind eyes. Or rather… it wasn’t often they took heed of their summons, for Daphne, Tulip and Lilac were firm believers in the power of adventures and also that adventures and rules did not go hand in hand.
    Today, however, they were persuaded into going. Whether this decision was due to the fact they thought it was the right thing to do or because they wanted to show off their new broomsticks was difficult to tell.
    They were very proud of their brooms, though.
    Queen Sap (Maple to her friends) had redesigned the broomstick and made it what it was today, a beauteous thing of reliability and power. Gone were the twigs at one end, replaced with found feathers - hundreds and hundreds of them, long and petite and of every sort imaginable, even flamingo. Indeed, to digress, it was rumoured Queen Sap had a broom of entirely flamingo feathers, a majestic creation no one had ever actually… seen.
    Queen Sap was truly the most majestic of monarchs. Tulip was quite a big fan.
    ‘Do… do you think she’ll cross?’ she asked, looking at the moss and rose covered cottage they stood before now.
    Queen Sap also forwent castle life for the cottage home she had always lived in. Few took issue with this decision, not when it saved so much money and stress (and, after the previous queen, money and stress both very much on edge, even so many years later. Few could hold back a flinch when thinking of those days of old).
    ‘Why would she be cross?’ Daphne asked brazenly, striding up to the front door and banging her fist upon it.
    ‘Because we’ve ignored her?’ Lilac suggested. Tulip whimpered. ‘For months. She could very well banish us.’
    ‘Don’t!’ Tulip screeched, covering her eyes and sinking to the ground.
    ‘Pish,’ Daphne scoffed. ‘Hello? Maple?! We’re HERE!’
    ‘Good grief, are trying to be polite or breaking my door to smithereens?’ a voice asked. Tulip and Lilac looked up, Daphne running back to join them. Queen Sap stood atop her roof, broom in hand and frown on her face.
    ‘Your majesty.’
    ‘Queen Sap.’
    ‘Maple! There you are.’
    The Queen stared at the young witches. She narrowed her eyes.
    ‘Stand up. I’m not going to banish you.’
    ‘You’re not?’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Told youuuuuuu-’
    ‘I might banish you,’ she added, gazing at Daphne, who closed her mouth. ‘No, I have called you here… two and a half months ago…’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Apologies, Queen Sap.’
    ‘Oops?’
    ‘To talk about those.’ She pointed.
    The three witches looked at each other, then back at their queen. A bluebird darted out of nowhere and sat atop her head; within seconds it had made quite a comfortable nest among the bluebells growing from the top of her head and was asleep.
    ‘Those?’
    ‘Those…’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your brooms!’ Queen Sap hopped onto her own, soared off the roof and circled them, each movement so effortless that the bird didn’t even stir.
    ‘Do… you like them?’ Tulip asked, shifting her broom so it stood before her. Daphne and Lilac did the same, looking at each other sideways.
    ‘They…’ the queen hesitated. These three always left her perplexed. ‘They’re very good. You three need more practice.’
    ‘That’s true,’ Tulip agreed.
    ‘Oh. Right,’ Lilac nodded.
    ‘I don’t,’ Daphne asserted.
    ‘You, most of all, need a lot of practice,’ insisted Queen Sap. ‘Which is why you’re here. Lessons.’
    ‘Lessons… lessons!’
    ‘Oh, excellent.’
    ‘Do we get cake, afterwards?’

The Witches is a serial story, published every week on Thursday/Friday. See you then!