Hilda - The Challenge Read Online Free PDF

She wore her magical necklace
too.
    As she sat at the table, William saw she was
trying to do something unclear to a small piece of wood that had
several holes in it. There was also some smoke coming from a few
scorched places on it.
    "Dinner's... busy?" William frowned at the
strange combination of 'dinner' and 'busy'.
    "Yup. You can go and watch it if you want,
but it's boring. Kitchen's back there." Hilda pointed to an open
door.
    He nodded and started towards the kitchen,
when Hilda said: "Hey."
    William turned. "What can I do for you?"
    "Nothing. You look good in that." Hilda
nodded and went back to damaging the piece of wood. "Better than
the silly stuff you wore when you got here."
    Silly stuff. His expensive suit was instantly
demoted to silly stuff. Okay, it wasn't Armani as that was over his
budget, but... He shrugged. "Thank you," he said. Then, with a
grin, he turned and went to have a look at the kitchen where dinner
was supposed to be busy.
    Dinner was indeed busy. A modern kitchen with
all conveniences could not beat this one, even though there was no
electric thing in sight. The stove was covered in pots and pans,
spoons stirring the contents. A piece of meat hung over a fire and
turned itself, as a wooden spoon kept pouring gravy over it so the
meat would not dry out.
    A set of knives were chopping up vegetables
and in some places there were other utensils doing things that
William had no idea of. He returned to the black table and sat down
on a chair opposite Hilda. "Dinner is indeed busy. Very busy."
    She nodded as she peered at the remains of
the wood. "I am not used to cooking for more than one person, so I
just took some guesses."
    William grinned. It seemed to be about all
that he did there. He watched Hilda as the piece of wood
incinerated more and more. "What are you doing?"
    "Magic. And it's difficult so shut up."
    William complied with her order and just
watched. He noticed the necklace, the one she had recovered from
the hands of the motorgang.
    Hilda slammed the wood on the table. "What
are you looking at?"
    William had never before heard someone talk
in a way that made unease and being annoyed physically
tangible.
    The goldfish looked at each other and spread
out, one to each side of the teacup, to see what would happen
next.
    Before William could reply, a large
meat-cleaver flew through the room and landed smack in the middle
of the table. He fell over backwards, crashing onto the hardwood
floor, evoking a heartfelt 'oompf'.
    "Don't exaggerate," Hilda said, "it's just
that dinner's ready." With a snort she yanked the cleaver from the
table, got up and went to the kitchen, returning with two plates of
hot steaming food in her wake.
    William was still getting up and putting the
chair back in its rightful place. Again he stared, now at the
plates that landed themselves on the table and forks materialising.
"This is some fabulous household," he said, sitting down.
    Hilda sat down, leaned her elbows on the
table and rested her face on her fists. She looked at the man who
had so suddenly appeared here. "I really wonder why you are here,"
she said. "I have enough on my hands already, so I hope you
understand that I can't be a wonderful host for you, if you are
hoping for one."
    "I don't know why I am here either," William
said. "I don't even know how I got here, or how I can go back. Bert
will be rather annoyed too, by now."
    "Bert?"
    "The owner of the bookstore. I had a dinner
appointment with him. Don't you remember him? You floored him with
a big book, just before you came out to find me."
    Hilda smiled a big, bright smile. "Oh, right.
Him. Had forgotten his name. Was quite a whack I gave him,
yeah."
    They picked up their forks and as they were
eating they reminisced about the time that Hilda had appeared in
William's world, and how they had met in the coffee house at last.
William had owned a large ancient book with spells that had enabled
Hilda to return to her own world again, leaving the crystal