In which no newts are mentioned

Um, rushed post is rushed. I spent so much time researching witchcraft and tryin to figure out a way to kill a witch that I acutally forgot to write a story for today. So I cobbled something together as a sort of segway into the fight.

So, enjoy Charlotte's witch killing mania and the obligatory Python reference.

Charlotte seemed entirely too enthused about the prospect of facing a real witch. Sure, there had been others, but they were nothing compared to the monstrous apparition fighting to free itself from the beam of light.  All of the other so called witches and warlocks were, in Charlotte’s words, frauds; deluded fools who had found grimoires or been possessed by lingering fragments of a witch’s spirit from long lost tokens.

 The woman, though more solid now, was still bound to the ashes of her body and she was thrashing against the column of light that held her trapped with her own remains. The goblins who had summoned her were chanting louder in an attempt to help her escape.

“What’s going on Charlotte?” Amanda called above the rhythmic chanting. “What’s stopping her?”

“I haven’t been idle this evening.” Despite the noise, Charlotte’s cold, even tone could easily be heard. “While you were looking through old books, I was placing wards around all the buildings. They won’t stop her, but they will slow her down.”

For the first time since the witch appeared, Charlotte turned her gaze from the frantic figure. “Amanda, go with Max and find as much gasoline and oil as you can. She may be powerful, but she can still burn.”

“What about me, chère? What do you want me to do?” François was almost shaking with excitement; his eyes were wide with a scarcely veiled lust for action.

“She will try to raise the dead to aid her. You must block her attempts.” Charlotte turned an appraising eye on François. “I can see your mind working. Save your smartass quips for another day, this is far too important a job to mess around with movie quotes.”

François let out a bark like laugh, a mad grin spreading across his pale face. Charlotte’s eyes blazed with the eerie red light. “I mean it; if I hear one word about ducks I will let her kill you.” François smiled even wider and nudged Amanda. It was a testament to their odd working relationship that they could joke about movies while facing a deadly opponent.

Amanda grabbed hold of Max’s arm and pulled him away from the light and the temple. She gave a fleeting look back at her two friends and hoped they would still be standing when she returned.

The witch had abandoned her attempts to break free and stood regarding her would be killers. A haughty smile broke on her otherwise emotionless face. She spoke, her words were hard and unintelligible, but there was no disguising the hated in her deep voice.

François glanced as Charlotte and nodded. She stepped forward and raised a brittle bound book in her hands. The smile on the witch’s face dissolved into an ugly scowl. “My name is Charlotte Foxtrot. I come from a long line of witch hunters and I promise by all that is holy that I will be the end of you.”