Free The Only Thing Worse Than Witches by Lauren Magaziner Page A

said. “I thought you were studying for the WHATs again tonight!”
    â€œI was,” Witchling Two said. “But I got bored.”
    â€œYou only have two weeks until your exam!”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo you can’t just stop doing your homework when you get bored,” Rupert said. “You’ll never get an A that way.”
    â€œAn A? What’s that?”
    â€œNever mind,” Rupert said. “So what are you here for? Want to brew something?”
    Witchling Two nodded. “Yes, and I have the perfect concoction!”
    Rupert followed Witchling Two as she skipped down the steps and walked into the kitchen. She put up a pot of water and turned the stove on high.
    â€œYou need boiling water for this potion?”
    Witchling Two nodded with her tongue sticking out. She giggled and sniggered into her hands. Then she threw her head back and cackled. “I’m brewing . . . HOT CHOCOLATE!” she said.
    Rupert was used to her odd antics by now, so he just shrugged his shoulders.
    â€œCan I ask you a question about witches?” Rupert said, when Witchling Two had calmed down.
    â€œI don’t know if I’m allowed to answer, but you can certainly ask.”
    â€œWere they always in Gliverstoll? How did they get here? And what do they do?”
    The water began to bubble, and Witchling Two retrieved two mugs from the cabinet. She dumped the chocolate powder into the mugs and then poured the water. She added whipped cream on top for a little touch of flair, and then she handed Rupert a mug.
    â€œLet me tell you a story,” Witchling Two said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She took a sip of her hot chocolate, and the whipped cream formed a white mustache on her lip. “The story is called:
The History of Gliverstoll.
Are you ready for it?”
    Rupert nodded and sipped his hot chocolate.
    â€œOnce upon a time there was a rocky hill by an ocean. This place is what would eventually be known as the town of Higgenwatsenstinkybottom — before the town council overrode this name and changed it to Gliverstoll. Anyway, this town was infected.”
    â€œInfected?” Rupert said. “With what?”
    â€œWith
bunnies!
” she whispered, with a spooky edge to her voice. She wiggled her fingers for added effect.
    â€œAre you sure this is historically accurate?”
    â€œPositive,” Witchling Two said.
    â€œBut where did the witches come from?”
    â€œThe ancient witches were nomads, flying around on their tree branches (brooms weren’t invented yet). They stopped wherever and whenever they had a good reason to stop. As they were flying over Gliverstoll, they felt the land call out to them, almost like the town was drawing them in. After feeling this magnetic pull, the witches decided to take a closer look, and that’s when they saw a gazillion bunnies hopping around, looking all fluffy and evil. Well, they couldn’t just fly by and leave the poor townspeople at the mercy of these devilish creatures. So the witches stopped and banished the bunnies.
    â€œAnyway, the townspeople of Higgenwatsenstinkybottom were so grateful to the witches that they offered to share their home. And the witches loved the town of Higgenwatsenstinkybottom so much that they agreed. They stopped their wandering and decided to stay here, where they felt like they belonged.”
    â€œAnd how long ago was this?” Rupert asked. “In human years, not witch years please.”
    Witchling Two scratched her head. “Well if my conversion scale is correct, then this was hundreds of thousands of millions of billions of years ago, and this has been our home ever since.”
    â€œHmm,” Rupert said. “But what do you guys do?”
    â€œI’m not allowed to tell you,” Witchling Two said. “Even though you’re my apprentice, I still have to keep witch secrets. Just know that you’re in good hands.”