Tira dodged out the way just in time, and the imp flew over her shoulder and slipped under the kitchen door.

"Stop!" Tira ran after him into the yard, just in time to seem him wriggle under the stable door. She kicked the stable door open. The smell of hay and horse invaded her nostrils. To her horror, the witch saw Darkness sinking his needle-sharp little fangs into the poor horse's rump!

"Don't!" Tira would have grabbed the imp, but the horse kicked out with his hooves because of the imp bite, and she had to fling herself sideways to avoid them, rolling over in the smelly straw.

In the dark corner of the stable, the imp stood trapped. He hissed at her and swiped with his claws. Tira glared at him and spoke the word of command for imps that she had read in the book of spells. Darkness hesitated.

Tira spoke to him angrily. "Darkness! I order you to leave these poor people alone. How dare you make their lives miserable?" She breathed through her nose. "Mistress Crowfoot will no about this, make no mistake."

"She already does," said Darkness in his reedy little voice. "It is you who should be worrying."

Tira frowned and pushed her hair away from her face. "Go on, get out! Do you dare refuse a witch?"

The little imp grumbled and left the stable, making for the farm gate. There was a strange symbol on the dirt on the stable floor. Clearing away the straw, Tira saw a hex-mark. She had read that this was a magical sigil designed to draw misfortune to a place. Concentrating hard, she rubbed it out with her green fingers. This was troubling. According to the book, only a witch could make or remove a hex mark like that one.

The horse still seemed a bit jumpy, so Tira patted him, wishing she had brought a sugar lump, then she walked slowly back to the farmhouse. Back in the kitchen she told Tom and Martha of her discovery.

"The work of Mistress Crowfoot alright," said Tom grimly.

Tira bit her lip. "Um... There must be a mistake. Perhaps the no-good imp acted on his own. I'll go and see."

----------------------------------------

00O00

Tira arrived back at the cottage and hauled herself up through the trapdoor. Her Mistress was striding around the room muttering, her brows drawn together and her eyes anxious. She gave a little start as Tira's head popped through the floor.

"Where have you been?" she snapped. "Didn't I say not to be late?"

Tira stood and nervously twirled a strand of her hair between her green fingers. "Um… Mistress… uh, that is… Darkness was at the farm, being a nuisance. Someone has to do something. I mean, you've gotta do something…"

Her voice trailed off under her Mistress' glare. "I ordered him there to teach those farmers a lesson. Dare you question your Mistress?"

"But Mistress, it's wrong and cruel," protested Tira.

And that moment, the cottage gave a terrible jolt, and Tira lost her balance and fell over. The jars rattled on the shelves and a heavy tome slid from the table onto the floor.

"Intruder!" hissed Mistress Crowfoot. "You were followed here, simple girl. Can't you keep a low profile?"

Tira scrambled to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was followed… It's hard for a green girl to be inconspicuous."

The cottage jolted again. The witch's familiars circled around the trapdoor. The raven flew in through the window and alighted on his Mistress's shoulder and croaked in his harsh voice?

"A common bandit? Disappointing," said the witch. "Still, at least I get to flex my fingers and try a powerful spell. Watch and learn, Tira."

The witch's other familiars gathered around the trapdoor, which was pushed aside. A shaggy head poked through, a man with a filthy, scrubby beard and bloodshot eyes.

"Wot valu'bles 'ave you 'ere?" he burbled. "Green women… dat's a turn-off."

Tira's heart began to beat faster and she clenched her hands together.

"Attack!" Mistress Crowfoot was breathing through her long green nose, her bosom rising and falling. Her familiars all attacked the bandit as he hauled himself into the cottage, scratching, clawing, pecking and biting.

The bandit roared and killed the toad and bat with a rusty sword. Tira gave a little cry. The cat scratched the bandit's cheek, then retreated from the reach of the sword. Gloom bit him on the leg at the same time, making him yell and whirl round.

Mistress Crowfoot stood over the bandit, making complicated gestures with her long, green fingers and muttering a weird incantation. And then…

In front of Tira's eyes, two pairs of arms sprouted from the bandits torso and his jaws cracked and stretched open as a pair of huge fangs speared forth. Obsidian eyes appeared all over his forehead and grey, bristly fur sprouted all over his body. At the same time, he shrunk and shrivelled as if collapsing in on himself… This all happened so quickly, it was like Tira was in the grip of a nightmare. The bandit shrunk and shrunk until all that was left was a large grey spider squatting on the floorboards.

Tira realised she was screaming. Mistress Crowfoot clapped a green hand over her mouth. "Silence, you stupid girl."

The spider scuttled under the floorboards.

"That was better than incapacitating the bandit?" said Gloom the grimalkin.

"He won't be troubling anyone else," said Mistress Crowfoot, her dark green lip curling.

"Y-You didn't have to turn him into a spider," said Tira, as she scrambled to her feet. She was trembling and she felt really sick. "Y-You…"

"Don't question me," said Mistress Crowfoot, slapping her around the face. It stung, like when Morag had slapped her. Tira blinked, trying hard not to cry.

Mistress Crowfoot was wearing her long, black dress this night and she adjusted her sleeves and flicked dust off the fabric. "We have a distinguished visitor soon… He will be here any moment. I have no time to get you presentable… Don't sniffle like that, for Shekka's sake!"

At that moment, Wacket the black cat hissed and his hackles rose.

"The distinguished visitor approaches," said Gloom.

"Clear the useless carcasses of the bat and toad away, then," snapped Mistress Crowfoot.

There was a rumble of thunder from outside, and it suddenly seemed colder. Winter really was setting in. The trapdoor swung open and a man emerged, but this time smoothly, with an almost serpentine grace.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

This man was swathed in a black hooded cloak. His face was so pale and haggard, that Tira worried that he might be ill. His cold, black eyes darted around the cottage.

"Good evening, Sir," said Tira, giving an awkward curtsey. "May I take your cloak? And would you like some, er, soup?"

"Excuse my apprentice, she forgot that she shouldn't speak before her Mistress," said Mistress Crowfoot, cuffing Tira around the head. "I welcome you, Nazek, to my humble home."

"Spare me the pleasantries, witch," said Nazek. His voice was cold and sort of nasally. Higher than Tira had expected it to be. He sneered as his gaze flickered around the cottage. He pointed at Gloom and Wacket the cat. "Must you keep vermin here in my line of sight?"

"No," Mistress Crowfoot snapped her green fingers. "Familiars, begone."

Gloom, Wacket and the Raven all left via the window. Tira thought Nazek had been mean about them.

"I have come to inform you that our alliance, the Circle of Doom, will meet in Claybury on the night of the New Moon. There, I will summon the Beast. The Beast will wreak much havoc when he is free of the pit." Nazek grinned and rubbed his hands together. "The Infernal Beast was banished decades ago, but when he is back, we will have a mighty ally. He will bring with him, the power of Infernal fire when he once again walks hither and thither in the lands. Our enemies will suffer. He will pour fire on them. The agrarian pinheads in this fetid backwater will likely suffer too."

"What?" Tira couldn't stop herself from blurting that out.

Quick as lightning, Nazek caught her face in his hand and pinching her cheeks, he squeezed out her tongue. "Clean out your ears if you can't hear, girl. And don't interrupt, lest I cut off your green tongue." He made a snipping motion with his fingers, then he turned to the other witch. "The Beast will bring death to both our enemies, and to the weak."

Mistress Crowfoot dropped her gaze when he said that, and for a moment, Tira saw unease in her eyes.

Tira herself was horrified. What was he saying? He would unleash the Beast and the Beast would kill people? This could not be. Why wasn't Mistress Crowfoot saying anything… unless… she was a part of this? It was as though a veil had been torn from Tira's eyes as she saw her Mistress for what she really was. It chilled Tira's heart and made her feel sick to her stomach. She could not stay here. When this dreadful man had gone, she would have to be off to warn the authorities. She was done with Mistress Crowfoot.

"Remember," said Nazek, "In Claybury the Circle will congregate at Midnight on the New Moon, when there is no light in the sky."

Nazek retreated down through the trapdoor.

Tira stood as if rooted to the spot.

Mistress Crowfoot turned towards her bedroom. "Call me if there is any disturbance tonight. Though I doubt there will be." Her voice sounded far-off. Distracted. Just as well.

Tira made a pretext of getting under her blanket on the floor, but she stayed awake until she was certain that Mistress Crowfoot was asleep. She waited one hour… two… OK, this was it. She would have to steal away into the night.

"Thinking of slipping away? On a night like this?" Tira gave a start. Gloom the imp was at her elbow. She hadn't seen him come back in.

"I-I've got to. Please Gloom. Don't tell. I can't stay."

"My silence has a price."

Tira groaned. "What price?"

"That you take me with you. I cannot stay either. Not now."

She patted his head, feeling a warm glow of affection for him. "Thank you. Knew you'd want to be good. We can leave at once then."

"Not that simple. Mistress Crowfoot will track us. I can work an invisibility spell, but not against my own Mistress."

Tira's heart sank.

Gloom continued. "You must take me as your familiar. If you are my Mistress, that'll settle it."

Tira nodded. "I'm happy to. What do I do?"

Stare into my eyes and say, "I accept you. Bond with me."

Tira cupped his furry face in her hands, and stared into his overlarge eyes. "I accept you. Bond with me."

She felt a warm glow spread through her, and from her fingers, into the imp. She blinked. Now she was aware of the imp another way as well. She felt sure she would always know if he was close by.

"Wonderful. What a break." Gloom capered around. "Now let's get moving, shall we? I know the way out of here."

He pulled a leather satchel from the corner. "I've already packed. Let's get a move on."

They slipped out of the trapdoor. Tira was worried at how loud a creak it made and was anxious to get away in the woods. She and Gloom dashed across the clearing and into the treeline. Now that she was a witch, Tira had noticed that the trees and brambles didn't snag on her or get in her way nearly as much, although they didn't part for her like they did for Mistress Crowfoot.

Tira and Gloom made it through the woods and across fields and lanes until it was almost dawn. Then they sheltered under a haystack and slept for a short time. After that, Gloom was anxious to move on again.

"Right," said Tira, rubbing her temples. There were bits of hay in her hair. "Which authority can do something about the Circle of Doom and Nazek?"

"Hollowell have their own Militia. But it is risky for such as we to approach them."

"Well we've got to try, haven't we?" said Tira, folding her arms. "There are lives at stake."

Gloom had thoughtfully packed food for Tira, although she had to drink out of a stream. Gloom himself could forage for slugs and worms.

"Don't fancy sharing one?" he asked, holding up a slug.

Tira smiled and shook her head.

"Witches…" said Gloom, swallowing the slug himself.

That evening, they sheltered in an old barn. Gloom had pinched one of Mistress Crowfoot's old books, a jar of powder and a pouch of bronze pieces.

Tira leafed through the book. Gloom pointed at a page. "See this curse? A witch can invoke it by saying 'by salamander breath and scorpion stings, I curse you.' Doesn't even require contact."

"Huh, says it delivers a crippling blow as if from a cruel blade," Tira read aloud. "Not something I wanna use. I prefer magic that is useful and good."

"Magic changes the way the body works. Can be for good or ill. It all depends on the wielder," Gloom assured her. "You get to choose. Right or wrong."

She put an arm around him. "And we're going to do right."

Gloom pointed out another curse. "This one just causes bewilderment for a minute. For a getaway that's less cruel."

"Ah, interesting," said Tira.

They slept in the hay and were awakened in the morning by an irate farmer. He didn't seem too phased by the presence of a green girl or even an imp, but he was calling them no-good trespassers.

"The confusion spell," muttered Gloom. "Then we make our getaway."

But instead, Tira drew out the pouch of bronze and gave it to the farmer. "Please… I'm fearfully hungry. Could I have some porridge with jam? And some meat for Gloom, here? Then we need directions."

The farmer was mollified and tipped his hat to her. He went away. Hopefully to prepare their meal.

"That was all our coin," said Gloom, kicking at the straw.

"Well we did use his barn," said Tira.

Gloom snorted, but made no reply.

The farmer came back soon afterwards with a tray containing porridge for Tira and bits of raw bacon for Gloom. The imp forgot his gripe and snatched the bacon in his little clawed hands and stuffed it down.

Following the farmer's directions, the two of them set off for the town of Hollowell. The trail joined another which led to a main road, where they had to keep out of the way of carts and horses. The road led to a walled city, and the witch, imp in tow, walked down the cobbled street to the town square. Some people stared at Tira and pointed. This hurt her feelings. Her green skin shouldn't be that big a deal… "Too bad you can't make yourself inconspicuous like an imp can, Mistress," said Gloom.

It still felt weird, to have anyone call her Mistress.

"You're doing a spell of invisibility? You're clever," said Tira.

Gloom laughed. "Don't talk now, it looks like you're muttering to yourself."

The magistrate's house was easy to spot. As she put a hand to the door, Gloom tugged at her dress.

"Are you sure about this, Mistress?"

"Yes. I have to warn them."

The witch pushed the door aside and stepped into a tiled hallway, leading to the marbled chamber of the town elders, four elderly gentlemen who were now sitting around a grand table.

They stared at her. One looked shocked, another, an old fellow with a grey beard, curled his lip at her.

Tira curtseyed awkwardly. "Sirs… I am Tira the witch. I've come to warn you… a servant of the Beast is planning to resurrect the Infernal Beast… he wants the Beast to rampage around and hurt people. Umm…" She forgot what else she was going to say.

"Come up here, witch," said the bearded gentlemen. Tira walked up to his desk.

"I wish to test the veracity of your story. Hold out your hands."

Gloom was hissing and tugging at her dress. "Quiet," she murmured. She held out her green hands. The beaded gentleman picked up a weird set of metal wires and rings. Suddenly, without warning, he clapped them on her green fingers. They clinked and fastened her hands together. She couldn't move her fingers. In shock, heart pounding, she snatched her hands away, but the metal weighed them down and she couldn't get it off. "Hey! It hurts!" she cried. "What're you doing? I'm trying to warn you…"

"Now you won't be casting any spells," said the bearded man. "Your powers are contained as long as you can't move your awful fingers. Guards!"

The air around Gloom flickered and he became visible. His power of invisibility must be linked to her power somehow.

A pair of militiamen in armour and medium helms came running in and clapped the imp in chains. Both the witch and her familiar were well and truly caught!