Chapter 20

There’s an old witches tale. It tells of two travellers lost in time. But how did it end? Finding an end fit for a witch is a hard thing indeed….

Witches don’t believe in fairy tales, even though most people find fairy tale endings so appealing. Fairy tale endings are usually considered to be the most fantastic after all. But that doesn’t mean that witches don’t support happy endings, they just frown on pumpkins turning into carriages and men using lost shoes to find their apparent true loves. No, witches don’t like fairy tales because witches are never represented well in them. Witches are lurking in the background cursing people or shoving children in ovens. A fairy tale does not offer a fair ending for a witch.

So witches have to look elsewhere for a happy ending. But if you cannot look to folk lore or legend, where can you look? Where can there be found an ending fit for a witch?

Wherever there is magic, mystery, philosophy and a great cup of tea.

…….

‘Pembrake I’m being serious,’ Abby stared wildly around the cell. Things looked different right? It wasn’t just her. ‘Things look different in here!’ She swivelled her head to look at Pembrake.

Pembrake was leaning down and looking at the bars of his cell. There was a curious look on his face. He ran his over one of the bars. The metal was shiny and he almost looked surprised when nothing came off on his hands. ‘These bars were rusted through a moment ago.’

‘A moment ago?’

‘Or 26 years ago maybe,’ he admitted quietly.

She walked over to him, more excited than she’d ever be. ‘You don’t think… do you?’

He nodded mutely. ‘Unless someone sneaked in and changed the bars while we were… busy.’

‘Oh my god Pembrake!’ she wanted to jump through the bars and hug him.

But that was the problem wasn’t it… They were still technically behind bars. Abby stared at the bars then across at the locked door.

There was still a problem here.

‘Oh you’ve noticed have you,’ a voice said from a dark recess near the door.

Abby jumped. She knew that voice, she knew that voice.

The figure stepped closer. ‘And what have you been doing flying around time and ruining perfectly rotten time lines?’ Mrs Crowthy stepped closer. ‘Saving princes and princesses. Trying to kill Colonels and failing,’ she shot a pointed glare at Pembrake, ‘and worst of all – you went and fell in love Abby.’

Abby looked down at her hands.

‘I mean really,’ Ms Crowthy strolled all the way up to Abby’s cell. ‘Do you call yourself a witch Abby? Would a witch have done what you did? Would a witch have gone back in time and tried to change things? Would a witch have taken on the most powerful force in the universe? Would a witch have gone head to head with time?’

Abby sniffed.

‘You’re damn right she would. Congratulations Witch of Bridgestock.’

Abby shared a startled look with Pembrake before looking back at Mrs Crowthy. ‘What?’

‘You did good.’

Ms Crowthy let them out of prison and filled them in on what their messing about in time had achieved.

‘Things will be different out there,’ she warned, ‘you’ll be a bit shocked but what you did. It’ll take some time to readjust it will, so you’ll both have to rely on each other I thinks.’

‘So we changed the time line then?’ Abby screwed up her hands. ‘For the better?’

Ms Crowthy shrugged her shoulders. ‘why don’t you go and find out?’

Abby suddenly remembered something important. ‘But where’s Charlie?’

‘Scratching at the door,’ Ms Crowthy nodded towards the large door to that separated the prison from the rest of the palace. Now that Ms Crowthy had mentioned it, Abby could hear a scratching sound.

‘You’re in so much trouble Abby,’ Charlie called from the other side.

‘Ignore the little bugger,’ Ms Crowthy sniffed, ‘and go out and see the world.’

‘But how did you get here?’

Ms Crowthy paused with her hand on the door, ready to push it open to the new world that awaited beyond. ‘Oh I’m a witch Abby. We’re meant to do mysterious things. Now come along, a new world is waiting.’

Ms Crowthy opened the door.

Abby put her hand in Pembrake’s and walked out.