Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
F or a moment there was nothing but a terrifying black void all around me. Then the world began to take shape and I found I was standing in a courtroom—but it wasn’t like any courtroom in the Mortal Realm.
It was a huge, shadowy room with glowing green doors on either side—one on the left and one on the right. The judge’s seat was located at least ten feet above the rest of the courtroom and there was no place to sit for either the defendant or the plaintiff. Speaking of the plaintiff, where was he?
I looked to my left and saw the enormous, smelly Ogre who had chased me down the path behind my house. It appeared like he had at least tried to dress for court. His long orange pelt had been combed into some semblance of order—though to be honest, the comb tracks in it only made it look greasier since it was very clear he hadn’t washed it. He was wearing longer trousers too, though still no shoes or shirt. He did however, have a lime green tie around his thick neck. It was too long and hung down almost to his crotch.
Standing by his side was the Harpy lawyer who had served me with the magical papers that caused me to appear in the courtroom. But there was no one waiting to represent me, I saw with dismay. And where was the judge? How could we have a trial without one?
As if in answer to my question, a booming, disembodied voice rang out,
“All rise for the judge and adjudicator of this case!”
Since we were all already standing, nobody moved as one of the glowing green doors opened and in walked an elderly warlock in a long black robe.
My heart sank when I saw who it was—none other than the head of The Council of Wisdom—Grand Wizard Henkelman.
I remembered now that Goody Albright had said that he and The Council went all around the world presiding over cases in the magical court system. But what terrible luck for him to be the judge of this particular case! Why couldn’t I have gotten Goody Tandy, the sweet old witch who wanted to try my cinnamon rolls instead?
I tried to think of all the court cases I used to watch on Judge Judy back when I was a kid and I was home sick from school. Could I ask the judge to recuse himself from my case on the grounds that he was already prejudiced against me since my lust-filled pear tarts had caused him to screw a knothole and get a splinter in his privates? I didn’t know and I was afraid that if I made a motion like that and it was denied, Grand Wizard Henkelman would get even angrier at me.
The elderly warlock went to the base of the extremely tall podium that dominated the room and began to climb. After a few minutes of audible huffing and puffing, he arrived at last at the top and settled himself on the judge’s bench. He reached into his long black judge’s robe and pulled out a tiny silver gavel which he tapped lightly on the podium.
It must have been magical because instead of the soft tink-tink-tink I expected, a loud BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! rang out across the shadowy courtroom.
“Now then, this court will come to order!” Grand Wizard Henkelman shouted, as though everyone was yelling instead of just standing quietly, watching him. “Bailiff—will you please state the case and read the charges?” he added.
“This is the case of the Ogre, Guglor Goremouth, who is suing the witch, Celia Hatch, for the unlawful theft of his property,” the loud, disembodied voice which had announced the judge in the first place said.
“I see. Yes, yes.” Grand Wizard Henkelman nodded importantly. “Well, attorneys—let’s hear the facts of the case! Councilor Heketate, you may speak first,” he added, looking down at the Ogre’s lawyer. “Please step forward and tell me what happened.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” The Harpy stepped forward and shook out her wings with a rustle. “Here are the facts of the case. Yesterday, on the twenty-second day of September, the year of our Goddess two thousand and twenty four, this witch, Celia Hatch, trespassed on my client’s property?—”
“I didn’t trespass!” I exclaimed.
Grand Wizard Henkelman tapped his silver gavel again, which resulted in a loud BOOM-BOOM! and glared down at me.
“That will be quite enough of that! You may speak when you’re spoken to—not before!”
“But she’s lying!” I said desperately. “I never trespassed on anyone’s property—I was on a path that runs behind my house.”
“Enough!” Grand Wizard Henkelman pointed one long crooked finger at me. “I already know what a troublemaker you are, witch! You’ll get your turn to state your case. For now, be silent or I’ll charge you with Contempt of Court!”
I wasn’t sure what the penalty was for Contempt of Court in a magical court and I didn’t want to find out. Unhappily, I nodded and murmured,
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good. Now maybe we can continue. Councilor Heketate?” he said, turning back to the Harpy lawyer.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” she said, fluffing her wings. “As I was saying, the witch, Celia Hatch, trespassed on my client’s property and proceeded to steal dozens of valuable and magical Golden-Skinned Warbler pears which she took from the tree that grows in his yard and made into tarts which she then sold for profit. My client is asking for fair compensation for the theft.”
“I see. What a heinous act!” Grand Wizard Henkelman declared, staring sternly at me. “ Especially since we know she used those pears to make lust-filled tarts that forced unsuspecting persons into copulation with inanimate objects which resulted in great personal pain in their private areas!”
I wanted to groan—great, just great. So he had gotten a splinter in his sausage. And it was clear he was going to hold it against me, even though it had been an accident.
“Please, Your Honor—” I began.
“Silence!” Grand Wizard Henkelman roared. “I’m ready to rule!”
“What? But you haven’t even heard my part yet!” I protested.
“All right—what have you to say for yourself, witch?” he demanded.
“What I said before—that the pears I took were on branches that hung over the path where I was walking,” I said. “I never climbed over the hedge and went onto Mr. er, Goremouth’s property. Also, I’ve been picking these pears for five years now and I’ve never even seen him around before—I thought the house he’s apparently living in was empty and deserted!”
I was hoping my explanation would clear my name but the head of The Council of Wisdom only glared harder.
“So, you not only admit to stealing the pears this year, you admit that you’ve been stealing them for the past five years as well?” he demanded. “This is outrageous!”
Uh-oh—clearly I had just made things worse for myself. What could I do to save this situation? Nothing, apparently, because Grand Wizard Henkelman tapped with his gavel again— BOOM-BOOM!— and declared,
“I’ve heard enough! I’m ready to rule. Since the plaintiff has admitted to her guilt?—”
“Wait!” I exclaimed desperately.
“How dare you interrupt me in the middle of sentencing?” Henkelman shouted.
“Because…because…” I looked around the shadowy courtroom desperately and my eyes fastened on the Harpy lawyer. “Because I don’t have an attorney to speak for me!” I exclaimed, hoping against hope that this would work. “It’s not fair that the Ogre—Mr. Goremouth—has a lawyer and I don’t!”
“If you wanted an attorney present, you should have retained legal counsel, like Mr. Goremouth did,” the judge snapped.
“How could I?” I demanded. “The first I heard of this case was when the Harpy—er, Councilor Heketate—served me the papers which immediately caused me to vanish from Hidden Hollow and appear here, in this courtroom!”
I was afraid that Grand Wizard Henkelman would simply ignore my protests but he got a thoughtful look on his face.
“Very well—since you neglected to retain your own legal council, an attorney will be provided for you,” he said. “In fact, I know just the one! A Centaur who has one of the finest young legal minds in the entire magical world.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” I murmured, feeling the fist of tension that had gathered in the pit of my stomach unclenching just a bit.
But the next minute, I clenched up again, even harder. Because when the green door the judge had come from opened again, it was Chester the deaf Centaur I saw coming through. Was he really a lawyer? I guessed that he must be, but I was sure he’d been retired for ages. I had once heard another customer in the bakery saying he was over three hundred years old—magic users and Creatures tend to be long-lived. Even if he was a lawyer though, how could Henkelman describe him as “one of the finest young legal minds in the entire magical world?”
I guess maybe everyone seems young when you’re over five hundred years old yourself, I thought, remembering what Goody Albright had said about the advanced age of everyone who was on The Council of Wisdom.
“Hey, what’s all this—a trial?” the Centaur demanded, squinting up at the judge.
“Councilor Chester,” Grand Wizard Henkelman said importantly. “Welcome to my courtroom.”
“Eh?” Chester cocked his head to one side and looked confused.
“I said, WELCOME TO MY COURTROOM!” Henkelman bawled.
“Oh, yes.” Chester nodded vaguely. “A courtroom—so it is. I haven’t been in a courtroom in donkey’s years!”
“You have been called here to represent this young witch, who has stolen pears from this Ogre,” Henkelman told him.
“Eh? What now? She stole hairs from him?” Chester squinted at the Ogre across from us. “Looks hairy enough to me—she must not have stolen many!”
“No, no!”
The Grand Wizard looked irritated. He tapped his silver gavel on the podium once more but this time instead of producing a loud BOOM! it twisted in his hand and began to grow. A moment later it had become an old-fashioned ear trumpet with a wide silver bell on one end and a mouthpiece on the other to shout into. Henkelman tapped it again and it grew until it was long enough to reach from the top of the very tall judge’s bench all the way down to Chester’s ear. Then he shouted loudly,
“I said, you are here to represent this witch who stole the pears of this Ogre from the pear tree in his yard!”
“Stole them did she?” Chester frowned down at me. “Well what do you want me to do about it? Sounds to me like she’s guilty.”
“No, no, Chester!” I said desperately. “You’re supposed to be my attorney! You have to defend me!”
“Send you? Send you where?” he asked, frowning.
“No, not send—DEFEND,” I bawled at him. Unfortunately he was quite tall—all Centaurs are, due to being half horse—and I couldn’t get anywhere near his ear. He did seem to get the idea, however.
“Defend you? But the judge says you’re guilty of stealing! I don’t take guilty clients, Missy,” he said.
“But I’m NOT GUILTY!” I shouted desperately. “The pears I picked were on branches outside the Ogre’s land!”
“Got a lot of sand, does he?” Chester demanded. “Did you steal that too?”
This was hopeless! I was beginning to get horrible visions of being thrown in a magical jail to rot forever. Chester, who had always seemed nice, if a little vague, was turning out to be no help at all. In fact, I was pretty sure he was making things worse for me.
“Please, Your Honor, I need another attorney,” I said, turning to look up at Grand Wizard Henkelman. “This isn’t working out at all.”
The judge looked incensed.
“Absolutely not! I got you the finest legal mind in all of the magical world and you have the nerve to ask for a different counselor instead? Preposterous!”
“But he can’t hear me! He can’t understand!” I exclaimed. “And he might have been the finest legal mind before he retired but he’s three hundred years old now!”
“What is your point?” Henkelman snapped. “I will have you know, witch, that I am six hundred years old myself! Age does not dull one’s knowledge of the Law. In fact, it rather refines it—a good legal mind ages like fine wine!”
“What sign?” Chester asked, looking around. “I don’t see any sign. Does it have anything to do with the hairs and the sand?”
Henkelman looked miffed.
“Enough of this,” he declared. “I’m ready to rule.”
“What? But—” I began.
“Silence!” Grand Wizard Henkelman thundered, glaring down at me from the judge’s bench. “One more word out of you, witch, and it’s Contempt of Court!”
I didn’t want that. Reluctantly, I held my tongue and waited for the sentence. What else could I do?
“I judge this witch guilty of stealing the personal property of Mr. Goremouth and declare that she must pay just recompense for her theft,” Henkelman announced. “Counselor Heketate,” he said to the Harpy lawyer. “What is your client asking for in terms of compensation?”
“Well, Your Honor, the Golden-Skinned Warbler pears are extremely rare and valuable,” she said, frowning. “Some experts have judged them to be worth as much as a thousand gold apiece. And since she stole at least a hundred of them…”
My heart nearly stopped in my chest. A hundred thousand gold? I didn’t have that kind of money—I would have to mortgage The Lost Lamb to pay even half such a large amount!
I couldn’t keep silent anymore.
“If it’s money you want, I can pay for the pears!” I exclaimed. “But a thousand apiece is crazy!”
“Silence!” Henkelman pounded on his podium again— BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!—( the ear trumpet had turned back into a gavel) and gave me the nastiest look imaginable. “You will pay whatever the plaintiff in this case asks for!” he shouted at me.
Suddenly Goremouth the Ogre, who had been silent up until now, spoke up in his low, grating voice.
“Don’t you worry, sweety-sweet—I don’t want money, only meat.”
I frowned at him.
“What are you talking about? What meat?”
Instead of answering me, the Ogre bent down and murmured in his attorney’s ear. I watched with apprehension, wondering what he was saying. I was also wondering how in the world the Harpy lawyer could stand to be that close to him when he was so smelly.
After a moment he straightened and his lawyer looked up at the judge.
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but my client has explained what form of compensation he desires.”
Henkelman nodded importantly.
“Please state it for the record, Counselor.”
“Very well, since the witch stole a rare and valuable food commodity from my client, he wishes to be recompensed in kind. To wit, he wants food in return.”
“I see. That sounds reasonable. What kind of food does he desire?” Henkelman asked.
“I want witch meat—good and sweet!” Goremouth grated.
“Witch meat? What does that mean?” I demanded. The tight fist in my midsection was getting even tighter but I told myself not to panic. Surely he didn’t mean what I thought he meant.
The Harpy lawyer didn’t answer me—instead, she kept talking to the judge.
“Since the witch stole and ate my client’s valuable magical pears, we feel that it would be just compensation for my client, Mr. Goremouth, to be allowed to eat the witch who stole from him,” she said.
“Hmm…” Henkelman frowned. “Is there legal precedent you can site for such a ruling, Counselor?”
“Certainly, Your Honor. In the case of Hansel and Gretel Vs. Broomhilda the witch. The accused children ate large holes in her valuable house, which was made of candy. When she sued for compensation, Judge Ornkill awarded her the right to eat the children in return. Unfortunately, they pushed her into her own oven and escaped, but the ruling still stands,” she replied.
My body felt cold all over.
“What…what are you talking about?” I asked through numb lips. “You can’t be seriously thinking about letting the Ogre eat me?”
“Silence young lady!” Henkelman shouted at me. “That is exactly what I propose to do. It seems to me that eating you is a very fair compensation for the loss of Mr. Goremouth’s valuable pears!”
“But I’ll die!” I protested. “You can’t have me executed just for taking some pears!” I turned to Chester who was watching the proceedings with a vague look on his horsy face. “Chester, do something— say something. He’s about to eat me!”
“Seat you?” the Centaur asked, frowning. “Where? I don’t see any chairs in here.”
Realizing there was no help coming from that direction, I turned back to the judge.
“Your Honor, this is a gross miscarriage of justice!” I exclaimed. Then I had a sudden inspiration. “What will the rest of The Council of Wisdom think when they find out you allowed me to be killed over a basketful of pears?” I demanded.
At last something I said seemed to get through to the obstinate old judge.
“Well…” He coughed and cleared his throat. “Very well—I will modify my judgment somewhat,” he said.
Oh, thank God! I nearly sagged in relief. But it was short-lived.
“I will not order you to submit to being eaten without a struggle,” Henkelman said. “I will allow you to fight the Ogre for your life. If you can best him, he cannot eat you.”
“What?” I squeaked. “But…but he’s eleven feet tall! And he’s a Creature!”
“Very well—you may use your magic to fight him as well as your physical strength,” Henkelman said, as though he was doing me a great favor.
“I’m a Kitchen Witch!” I protested. “My magic is only good for baking—not fighting!”
“Well, it’s plenty good enough for tricking people into copulating with knotholes, isn’t it?” he snapped.
“That was an accident, Your Honor!” I protested. “How could I know that you would stick your dick in a hole in the wall and get a splinter?”
I realized that I shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words were out of my mouth because Henkelman’s face turned positively puce with rage and he pointed at me with his gavel.
“My judgment is final! You may fight the Ogre to try and preserve your own life but if he beats you, he is fully entitled to eat you in whatever way he chooses.”
“Ah, so sweet the meat!” Goremouth snarled, a large grin spreading on his dirty face to show his curving, dagger-like teeth. “Come on, girly—put up a fight! Makes your meat taste extra right!”
He began coming towards me and I shrank back away from him. I got ready to fight for my life—maybe I could kick him in the balls—when Chester suddenly spoke up again.
“A champion!” he said loudly.
“A what?” I looked up at the old Centaur uncertainly.
The vagueness had cleared from Chester’s face and he seemed to have finally grasped the situation.
“I said a champion!” he exclaimed. “When the match is unfair, the accused has a right to call a champion to fight for them!”
“You heard him!” I looked up at Grand Wizard Henkelman with desperate hope. “This match is extremely unfair! I should have the right to call a champion to defend me!”
The grumpy wizard looked like he wanted to disagree but apparently Chester had hit on some kind of legal precedent in the magical courts because at last he nodded.
“Oh, very well. Call for a Champion,” he said. “But be quick about it! This case has taken far too long already.”
I patted my pockets, but to my horror, I found I didn’t have my phone. And even if I did, who could I call? Maybe Sarah could convince Rath to fight for me—the big Orc could probably take on the Ogre. But without a phone, how could I ask for help?
“I don’t have my phone with me,” I said to Grand Wizard Henkelman.
He yawned widely.
“That’s too bad. This court does not supply communication devices—especially to convicted criminals!”
“Chester,” I said, turning to the Centaur. “I need a phone! A PHONE!”
But the vague look was back on his face again.
“A lone? Sorry but I don’t lone money to clients,” he said, stamping his back hoof. “Bad policy to start that, don’t you know!”
Well, he probably didn’t have a phone anyway. Where would he keep it? After all, it wasn’t like Centaurs could wear trousers, so they didn’t have any pockets. Desperately I thought of anything else I could do.
Then I remembered something Goody Albright had said to me.
“ All you need to do is call his name and I bet he’ll appear instantly ,” she’d said, when talking to me about Malik.
I had no idea if she was right or not but there was nothing left to try.
Lifting my voice, I shouted as loudly as I could,
“Malik! Malik!”
Nothing happened and no one came, but I wasn’t giving up. Maybe he had to be summoned instead of just called.
“Malik, Incubus of Hell, I, Celia Hatch call on you now to come and fight for me!” I shouted.
Still nothing. I tried again.
“By the bloodline of my ancestress, Hester Hatch, I bid you to appear, Malik! Come to me NOW!” I bawled so loudly that my voice echoed through the entire cavernous room.
But still, no one came. Malik didn’t appear to save me like he had on the path behind my house. There was no sign of his muscular body or charming smile. There was just nothing…I was all alone with no one to stop the Ogre from eating me.
I was about to call again when Henkelman banged his gavel once more.
“That is enough . You’ve had three calls and your champion has not arrived. I order you to give yourself over to the party you injured so grievously for compensation,” he commanded importantly.
“Like Hell, I will!” I muttered. I was the one who was going to be grievously injured if Goremouth caught me! As the Ogre reached for me again, I dodged away and ran to the far corner of the big room.
This didn’t seem to bother Goremouth a bit. In fact, he was grinning from ear to ear as he came for me, his long hairy arms outstretched to catch me.
“Come now girly, time to eat. You’re going to be old Goremouth’s treat,” he grated, grinning that horrible toothy grin.
If only he wasn’t so big , I thought desperately! He wasn’t very fast but even one of his strides was like three of mine. How could I possibly get away?
I caught a flash of green from the corner of my eye. The doors!
I skittered away from the Ogre’s grasp at the last minute, aiming for the closest glowing green door. But when I got to it, the handle wouldn’t turn. It just twisted back and forth in my sweaty palm and no matter how much I tugged, the door wouldn’t open. Even worse, Goremouth was only a few feet behind me!
Heart pounding with fear, I ran to the other door on the other side of the courtroom. To my surprise, the Ogre didn’t try to stop me this time. He just stood there grinning that evil, hungry grin.
“Go on girly, run—be free. We shall see what we shall see,” he growled.
Never taking my eyes from him, I twisted the knob. It nearly slipped in my sweaty palm but then—oh, thank God!—I felt it turn.
With a gasp, I shoved the door open and—not even looking where I was going—dashed through it and slammed it shut behind me.
Safe—I was safe!
Or so I thought.