Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, the secret was out. Frida and David both knew about the watch, two more people in Hilda’s life she didn’t need to hide it from. Tontu also knew, but they weren’t as close and she wouldn’t dare transform in the flat, so it didn’t matter.

The next step was…not telling her mum. A part of her wished that it could be, since it would be fun to include her in this. Maybe then they could even take a trip outside the city, away from buildings and the eyes of Safety Patrol. Somewhere Hilda could use her powers for a proper adventure, without having to be afraid.

But still, in order for Mum to be okay with this, Hilda imagined that she would need to be practiced through and through before the fact, not after. And that meant trips outside of the city after school and on weekends, and while that was its own fun, it was a bit lonely, since she couldn’t take David and Frida with her without permission.

So when the actual next step came around, Hilda hoped to amend this. After school the next day, the three of them changed out of their uniforms and went on their errand. Soon, they stood at the door to Tildy’s house, with more than one important question lurking on Hilda’s mind.

Not long after Frida knocked on the wood, the door swung open to reveal the Arch-Sorceress in the foyer. “Frida, you’re just in time!” She looked past her to the other children standing on her porch. “And I see you’ve brought Hilda and…another one of your friends. Could this be the David you’ve told me so much about?”

The young boy moaned fearfully, his former nervous expression turning to one of near paralysis, his voice coming out hoarse and whispery. “Y-you told her about me?”

“Well, yes, David.” Frida replied, raising an eyebrow at his reaction. “What’s wrong with that?”

“B-but knowing my name gives her power over me, doesn’t it?”

Tildy shook her head and let out a patient chuckle. “You’re confusing witches with the Fae Folk, dear boy.” Her gaze then fell on Hilda, for some reason. She had never heard of them before; was Tildy expecting her to explain it to him?

“Well, what’s the difference?”

“David!” Frida furrowed her brow. “You can’t just say things like that! Not all magic is the same, you know.”

This squabble wouldn’t accomplish anything, so Hilda quickly interjected before a ball could get rolling. “Anyway…” She quickly stepped in between Tildy and her friends, just to put herself in the center of attention for a minute. “...may we come in? We have something to ask you.”

“Of course! Come right in, and I’ll make tea for everyone.”

——————————

Soon, the tea was served and the kids were sitting on her sofa in the living room, the very same room at the end of Tildy’s maze from their mission a few weeks ago. Hilda recognized the door to the right of where she sat, likely leading to the ice garden…or not, maybe there was an additional spell that needed to be cast to make it work from this side?

That would have to wait a minute. Hilda reached into her satchel and carefully pulled it free, the fidgeting piece of bone they’d come to discuss, among other things. “We have something for you, actually.”

The Nisse skull, from Victoria Van Gale’s little helper. She set it down on the table and pushed it towards Tildy. To say that this was up the alley of the Arch-Sorceress was originally a joke, but then she and Frida had discussed it further, and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Why, aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” Tildy picked up the skull and held it up to the light of her window in admiration. “Now, who would’ve thought my apprentice’s Familiar would get me such a thoughtful gift?”

Hilda smiled, readjusting her place on the woman’s sofa. “We had a feeling you might enjoy it.” She then let out an embarrassed giggle as the Arch-Sorceress sent out a free hand and tousled her blue hair. She quickly brushed away the resulting frizz and went on, “But it’s not just some old skull.”

“Oh?” She set the piece of bone down on her lap. “In what way?”

And with perfect timing, a series of sharp noises filled the space around them, the sound of teeth clacking together over and over again. Tildy looked down at her lap and saw that her gift was moving his jaw up and down, in an attempt to get her attention.

“Oh! Well, isn’t this interesting!” Tildy picked him back up and marveled again. “There’s more to you than what meets the eye. Who knew that a Nisse skull could keep moving all by itself?”

David sat across the room from her, a spot he’d taken in a very casual way, but Hilda knew that it was a precaution. Until now he’d been quiet, cradling his cup of tea without much desire to drink, but now he spoke up. “He’s alive, from creepy dark magic! And we can’t keep him, so…you know, maybe you could take him off our hands?”

Frida’s head snapped over to face him, giving him a dirty look. “David, we wanted to work up to that!” His words were true, but he had obviously blurted it out without thinking, and it seemed like the last thing Frida wanted was to be embarrassed in front of her magic teacher.

Tildy gave them a patient look. “Oh, don’t worry about it, witchling. I’m hardly the sort who beats around the bush, myself.” She took a closer look at the reanimated skull in her hands, her voice reflecting a bit of inquisitiveness. “So…dark magic, you say?”

Frida shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, and I know what you said, about not going too far past your lesson plans–there are great risks even in natural magic, not to mention dark.” She tilted her head down in her lap. “But his makeshift Nisse body gave out, and his creator…isn’t around anymore, so it would be cruel to just leave him laying around on the ground somewhere.”

Hilda felt a twinge of concern from this; it was like Frida was expecting to be scolded any minute, but those harsh words never came. Tildy waved her hand in the air. “Oh, there’s no reason to fret. Dark magic IS perfectly natural–just a bit too risky to be considered ‘proper’ by the Committee’s definition, except for studying the basic theoretical things.”

“Really?”

“Of course. It’s actually one of the few subjects where I can almost agree with them. Toying around with life energy is a bit too much of a gamble, but then again, you’re not the one responsible for this.” She set the skull down on the table. “If anything, you did the right thing by keeping this from reaching the public eye.”

Frida’s face flushed as her smile returned, and that helped to put Hilda at ease, too. The witch-in-training had seemed so uncomfortable around Tildy, and yet chastised David for feeling the same way. All the while, the Arch-Sorceress seemed to have a way of calming her down–Hilda just couldn’t understand it.

But, there were other things they had to do, so Hilda pressed on. “So, what do you think? Can you take care of him?”

“Why, yes! That would suit me just fine.” Tildy set him back on the table. “Nisse are too frightened by the magical renovations I’ve made…” She gestured to the door where her maze had ended. “...to make a nest here, so this little one shouldn’t have any competition! And Cornerlius certainly wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Great.” That put Hilda’s mind at ease, and helped to set up her next point. “And speaking of magical places…” Frida gave Hilda a confused look, since she hadn’t really discussed this with her first–mostly because she was sure things would be fine. “...do you have any, I don’t know, spare rooms in your maze? Big, empty ones?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Tildy shook her head. “Any room I acquire is quickly filled with my next challenge. Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Hilda wasn’t as sure now. “...I’ve been practicing outside of the city for a while now, but I was wondering if you had another place, where there’s less risk of being seen?”

Hearing it out loud, Hilda began to wonder if it sounded a little self-centered; she was asking such a big favor of Tildy, when she wasn’t even her student–just her student’s Familiar. “Frida could practice spells there, too! We can help each other out, like we’re supposed to do.”

Frida gave Hilda a conflicted smile, as if she sensed the same thing Hilda did, making her shrink back in her seat. Tildy thought it over for a moment before answering, “Well, I had actually had a similar thought.”

Hilda’s head darted back to her, feeling her face lifting up from delight. “Really?”

“It would be a splendid idea for you two to learn how to function as a duo, and a safe space that I can repair with magic, would be a proper means to that end.” Tildy petted the skull cradled in her hands. “But for now, I’m afraid it’s out of the question.”

Just like that, the hope was gone, causing Hilda to slump back down in her seat. “Oh.”

“I’m truly sorry, dear. But the reason why, is also why I asked to see Frida today.” She walked over to the side of the room and waved a hand, glowing with a blue light that summoned a few bags from behind the chair in the corner. “I’m going out of town to visit an old acquaintance, so I won’t be here for the next couple of weeks.”

Frida tilted her head at her teacher. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. I don’t have the time to build you a whole training arena like I had planned. A place that can take a proper beating isn’t something that happens in an afternoon.” Tildy rearranged her belongings and then looked down at the skull, before placing him on the back of a suitcase and fastening him with a bit of magic. “I didn’t think it would be necessary until Frida began learning combat spells–that way, the two of you could sharpen each other at the same time.”

Hilda hated to admit it, but there was frustration building inside of her. She’d wanted a better place to train, inside of the city, where she could have her friends with her. But that wasn’t Tildy’s fault–Hilda was the one who’d messed around and gotten the watch stuck on her wrist, so this was her own problem.

Just then, David’s silence for most of this conversation, ended. “What kind of spells do you learn?” Frida turned to him, and despite her placid facial expression, he suddenly turned sheepish, like he’d said something wrong again. “If it’s okay to ask!”

Whatever backlash David had been expecting, never came. Frida hadn’t been offended if Hilda had to guess; more likely disbelieving, and once she was sure she’d heard him correctly, this faded into interest. “Well, um…all I’ve learned to do without a textbook is a simple levitation spell…” Frida looked over at Tildy, almost like she was signalling for permission. Luckily the woman gave her a nod, and Frida answered. “Okay.”

She set her hands out in front of her, briefly aimed towards her own teacup, before deciding against it and pulling back. She then went for her bookbag, opening it up and taking a pencil from its case, setting it down on the hard wood. “Here I go.”

Frida held her hands out a second time, and took in a few deep breaths, trying to concentrate on the object in front of her. And sure enough, a soft blue glow like Tildy’s gradually formed around it, and as Frida lifted one of her hands up, the pencil came up and off of the table.

“Whoa.” Hilda and David commented, as Frida moved one hand to the side and had the pencil follow, before shoving it back towards the middle. And then it followed her other hand, spinning around on its side as Frida mimed a spinning motion.

David seemed especially interested. “That was…actually pretty cool.”

Frida smiled as she lowered the pencil back to the table. “Thanks.” She let the glow abate and then put the pencil back into her bag. “I can’t do anything delicate yet, or too big, but Tildy says that I’ll get there soon. I have more work to do.”

The Arch-Sorceress nodded. “Well, yes, but not in a classroom. You’ve already studied that spell in every facet, I have to admit. That just leaves practice.” She then turned over to Hilda, still half-tucked into her little corner of the sofa. “And that goes for you, too.”

“Well, yeah. I’ve been doing my best.” Hilda leaned on the armrest with her elbow. “I’ve been using a place on the city’s outskirts, but I still worry about being seen.”

From what Hilda had heard, sentries along the wall had been pretty relaxed in past years, because it wasn’t really a need to be leery with troll incidents growing rarer each year. But ever since the forest fire she caused after getting the watch, she had been worried that the guards may suddenly tighten their hold on the wall, especially with Ahlberg in charge.

Breaking rules wasn’t enjoyable in itself, but what else was she supposed to do? She needed to get a hold on this situation, and it would be nice if she didn’t have to do it alone.

“Not a bad place, actually–the fresh air does a lot of good.” Tildy nodded, bringing Hilda back to the present. “Don’t feel too bad; during the day when the trolls are asleep, that old wall is just a technicality. A lot of people in this town–good people–don’t always understand that.”

——————————

Shortly after, the trio bid Tildy farewell and left her house. Given the mixed results of their meeting, relief and disappointment were currently playing tug-of-war with Hilda’s mood, but she decided there was no point in mulling over the bad stuff.

So she turned to David, taking on a slightly cheeky tone of voice. “So, David. What do you think of Tildy now?”

“She’s, well…” David let out a sigh. “Alright, I’m sorry about what I said. Tildy’s an okay person after all.”

“And…?”

“And she’s just like you and me.” David admitted, clearly reluctant. “Just because I was right about Victoria, doesn’t mean I should keep judging people based on their job titles.”

“That’s right.” Hilda wasn’t sure if it was because she was avoiding bad feelings, or if hearing him admit it really felt this good. “Any questions?”

David then looked back at her. “Well, she did mention some kind of ‘committee’ that she doesn’t like. Who are they?”

That was a good question, and frankly, they weren’t a very good example of Hilda’s point. “They’re sort of the bosses in the witch community, making a lot of the rules and calling the shots. A little closer to some of the bad stuff about witches, but that’s just them.” She then turned over to Frida, who’d had yet to say anything. “And they can still be reasonable about some things, right?”

Frida didn’t answer her. Frankly, she had been quiet for the whole walk across town, obviously deep in thought, one hand tucked under her chin and her eyes stuck at a fixed point to her right. “Frida?”

“Huh?” Their friend finally looked back towards them. “What is it?”

“You were zoning out again.” Hilda offered. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

Before Frida could get a word out, David spoke up first. “If it’s about how I acted, then–”

“No, no!” Frida assured him. “I heard your apology, that much I was listening to. But I was wondering about something.” She stopped walking just before the footbridge, turning to the right towards the city gates. “Hilda, you go out there every day after school and on weekends, to get used to your new powers.”

“Well, most of them. Days and…forms.” After the sharp complaint from Zs’Skayr yesterday, Hilda resolved not to put him out in the sun anymore unless it was an emergency. And the flame one…hard pass. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s because of what Tildy said, about the wall being a technicality during the day.” She gestured to the gates, which were wide open at this time of day. “While it’s true that she doesn’t beat around the bush, I’ve known her to speak in riddles whenever she’s trying to teach something. This is exactly like one of those times she tries to nudge me towards an answer.”

David shuddered. “Is she telling us to leave town?” Hilda worried for a second that his biases were relapsing, based on the way he’d phrased that sentence, but then he proved her wrong. “Like, go out the front gates, where there’s no wall?”

Frida rolled her eyes. “Come on, David! You were brave enough to come on the Sparrow Scout trip outside of the wall, before it got cancelled.”

“Barely!”

“And you’ve been on trips outside of Trolberg, loads of times!”

“In a car, and we left at 9:00 in the morning, when even the toughest of trolls would be a rock!” David reasoned. “Besides, we’re not supposed to go! Hilda’s mum is fine with it, but we need permission.”

David seemed to have figured out by now, even without being directly told, that Hilda’s watch and Frida’s witchcraft had to be kept secret–this was Kid 101 to keep secrets on each other’s behalf, a skill that Hilda didn’t like much, but it still came in handy for catching troll rocks and tricking Marras.

Frida sighed. “I know, but that’s mostly because my parents are afraid that Hilda would lead us off a cliff or something…” She then quickly turned over towards Hilda. “...which you wouldn’t! They just don’t get you. But it is daytime and Hilda can protect both of us, and none of us live too far from the gates once it gets dark, so we can get home pretty quickly–maybe it is just a technicality?”

David still seemed fearful for a second, but then he glanced over at Hilda, and he collected himself in a moment’s time. He let out a breath that he’d been holding and nodded, a bit of courage showing in his voice, “Okay, let’s do it.”

Hilda couldn’t believe it. “Really?” She felt her heart swelling at the thought. “You’re willing to do all that, for me?”

“Yep.”

“Of course!”

——————————

So, that was how it happened. Hilda breaking the rule she’d promised to keep, but it was just a technicality, right?

Getting through the gate was no problem. The guard towers were meant to identify people coming in the city, not so easily those going out–much less kids slipping under the notice of the lookout windows. Most kids in Trolberg had been given similar rules as David and Frida about going out, so Hilda hadn’t heard about anyone else exploiting this weakness.

Soon they found a spot, a spot in the forest not too close to the city, but not so far that it would be pushing their luck. Hilda took one last look to make sure that no one was around, and then turned towards her waiting friends, pushing the button on the watch to make the dial pop up. “So, any suggestions on where to start?”

Frida thought for a moment. “Well, I do like the little smart one. I vote for Grey Matter!”

David groaned. “I guess so.” He didn’t seem terribly thrilled with that. That one wasn’t the most comic book-like of the bunch, so probably not his favorite. But it still wasn’t a bad idea to start off slow.

“Alright, here goes.” She pressed the thing down and felt the world pause, body stiffening up for a second, before the green flash engulfed the area.

From what Hilda could tell through the light, David and Frida hadn’t needed a reminder to cover their eyes. That was the good news; the bad news was…another goof-up. Instead of a tiny smart frog, Hilda now loomed over both of her friends, casting an annoyed look down at her clawed scaly hands.

“Aw, what a rip-off!”

Chapter Text

“First the Blue Hound, and now you’re the ‘Ripper-Jaw Mermaid’, too?”

Hilda pulled her head from the spray of the nearby stream, panting as her gills recovered from overexposure to dry air. Barring a rainy or foggy day, there were no safe conditions to use this form this far from deep water, and even then there were probably better ideas. “Yeah, but that time, it was an accident. I was too hurried to check for people on the docks when I climbed out.”

David nodded. “Uh-huh…” It wasn’t getting any easier for Hilda to guess how he was feeling about this–either he was genuinely calm or at least pretending to be, both of which were satisfactory to Hilda. “And they called you the ‘Ripper-Jaw’ because…you bit something, or you just look the part?”

“All I did was talk to them.” Hilda defended herself. “The teeth are pretty scary, but I haven’t actually used them in front of people. Come to think of it…” she put a hand to her chin(?) in thought. “...I haven’t really tested these jaws to see what they can do.”

Frida then spoke up, finally. “Well, you should try it out, then! You don’t want to get caught in a situation where you don’t know what a form can or cannot do.” Her head darted around until she settled on something: a low-hanging branch with a number of littler sticks coming out from it. “Maybe start with one of those?”

The way Frida was approaching this, you would think that this form was just another spell, with a new set of footnotes in need of study. But it wasn’t a bad idea, so Hilda splashed a little more water on her neck gills before standing up, taking the branch in her hand. “Alright, here goes.”

“Good, but just start with one of them and see if it properly breaks–wait, I said one, JUST ONE–” Hilda didn’t hear her in time, before doing them all on at once, popping her jaws open and eagerly taking the entire thing inside. She then snapped them shut, and the leaves, bark, sticks, and the branch proper–all of them came apart with a CRUNCH!

Hilda then swung her head and tossed the whole wad out into a set of bushes, and turned around to see her friends’ reactions. Frida and David wore faces of amazement, though the former’s was intermixed with a bit of sourness from having been ignored. “Oops, didn’t hear you in time.”

“It’s…fine. I guess it was just sticks, not the whole tree.” Hilda silently agreed with that sentiment; it was one thing if you needed the wood for building or a fire, but killing the whole tree just for practice. A branch would grow back, but Hilda wouldn’t feel comfortable with going further than that.

Frida’s eyes then drifted to the side before darting back to Hilda, suddenly becoming nervous for some unsaid reason.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing! It’s not a big deal, just…” Hilda looked back anyway, and Frida groaned as she looked over a nearby tree. It had been felled prior to their arrival, by blunt force based on the curved layer of remaining bark still connecting the log to the stump, perhaps from a passing troll pushing it over absentmindedly.

Frida sighed. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Shouldn’t I try, at least?” Hilda splashed a little more water on her gills before plodding over to it: an already dead tree was a different story, after all. “Don’t worry; if it’s too much for me to break through, I’ll stop.”

But it wasn’t too much; David and Frida watched as Hilda got down on her knees and positioned her hands on the trunk, opening her maw and taking it to the strong wood. And wouldn’t you know it, the sound of wood fibers ripping filled the area around them…followed by wings fluttering and birds squawking in fear, as any remaining wildlife in the surrounding treetops fled from that ghastly noise.

Hilda came back up and crunched the chunks a few more times, before aiming for the bushes and spitting the whole thing out of sight. “Ugh, that was gross.” She hadn’t really been expecting that changing form would suddenly make non-edible items less disgusting, but hey, you never know.

She turned back towards Frida and David, both of them gazing at her in pure shock. “Well, I guess ‘Ripper-Jaw’ is correct, after all. Clunky, but accurate.”

David gulped, his expression still making it hard to discern fear from amazement. “H-how about just Ripjaws, then?”

“Works for me.”

——————————

With the last Warblers concert of the season having passed, David was out of things to do after school besides homework, and hanging out with his friends. And for the next couple of weeks, lacking a proper training area or Tildy’s teachings, Hilda and Frida spent their time in the woods just beyond the wall, practicing their new skills away from the watchful eyes of the city.

David had nothing else to do besides sit and watch their little montage in real time…except for helping Hilda come up with names.

“Really?” Frida stopped for a moment and let the small stone she’d been levitating fall, gazing over at the page where he brainstormed his ideas. “Do we really need nicknames for all of them?”

“Obviously.” David answered, tapping the end of his eraser to the page. “If you guys are going to have cool superpowers, the least I can do is give them all proper titles.”

No one had actually asked him to do this, but Hilda still gave her input to the project. Her current form was the one from that Sunday night at the windmill, the big one with four arms and had reduced Victoria’s machine into scrap metal in a single blow…which had been an overhead smash, which was a pretty powerful move in itself, but it was still impressive.

Right now, Hilda was simply testing the form’s strength, which is why she was standing around with a boulder tucked under her arm, about the size of a motorbike, which she’d yanked up from the stream’s basin and proceeded to carry it around under her arm like an overstuffed duffle bag. “I don’t mind, Frida. I could use some better things to call them than ‘the four-armed one’ or ‘the bug’, and he’s having fun, so why not?”

David felt a weight come off of his shoulders; his friends had gotten these powers and begun a journey towards becoming something more. Meanwhile he stayed exactly the same, the most timid one of their group since long before it really mattered, so it was difficult not to feel like dead weight sometimes, but Hilda’s validation always had a way of snapping him out of it.

Frida sighed. “Fine. But for the record, I would rather go by ‘Frida’, if you don’t mind. Don’t come up with any for me.”

And with that, David waited for her to turn away, and then quickly turned to the entire page of his notebook he’d dedicated to that, tearing it out and stuffing it into his shorts pocket. Which was a crying shame, since he thought a couple of those were pretty clever.

——————————

“So, what does this one do?”

David knew that he had a tendency to say things out of impulse, and this was occasionally met with sternness from Frida and Hilda. Often for reasons he didn’t always fully understand, or at least not soon enough to stop himself. And part of his brain worried for a brief second if he’d just done it again, said something offensive and hit a sore spot that he couldn’t see.

But this time around, the rest of him felt that it was a fair question. Some of Hilda’s forms, such as Four Arms and Stinkfly, were fairly obvious in what they could do; a tall form with muscles and a huge bug with tough wings weren’t rocket science to figure out. This one was…different. It was a thin draping body, with a tiny molehill-shaped periscope of a head, and long arms hanging by her legs. The material was stretchy like rubber, but also hard like tin, with lines and shapes going up and down its body that glowed in a green light, kind of like a circuit board or microchip slot or…whatever it was that made computers work.

“Well, uh…” Hilda began. Her voice threw David for another loop; the others had their own sounds of varying pitch, but this one sounded a lot like Hilda did speaking through a walkie-talkie. “I can morph around and change my shape, however I want.”

“Really?” David tapped the surface of the page, where he’d been documenting everything he’d seen so far. “Like, into a boat or a car or something?”

“I don’t…think so?” Hilda rubbed the back of her head. “All I know is that this one is oddly intuitive, and it responds to my thoughts before I even know that I have them.” She then walked over to a nearby tree, grabbing a branch and pulling herself up. “Watch this.”

Hilda lifted herself to the top of the tree and put her front against the trunk, and sure enough, her whole body flattened out until it was thin as a blanket, folding around the sides and slithering between the branches. And then, she took it a step further, sliding in further until she was practically gunking up the slots in the bark.

“Whoa! That’s cool.” David watched as Hilda moved herself back down this way, lights on her body illustrating her movements–she was like an elevator, almost. A worm-shaped piece of her body then jutted out to the ground in front, and the rest of her practically slingshotted into it, before returning to the form’s normal shape.

“Frida, are you watching this?” David turned to see Frida crouching at the corner of their little clearing. “Frida?”

“Huh?” Her head finally came up from her work, causing her to drop her levitated items, again. “Sorry, I was busy.”

David felt an urge to say something about this, that she was missing out on Hilda’s different abilities, just to keep working at the same spell over and over again–they had been doing this for almost a week now, and she was still giving them only half of her attention, all so she could manage to lift slightly bigger rocks each day.

But he stopped himself; he was not an expert on either subject, magic or speaking his mind, and he suddenly got a nasty feeling, like an objection from him might be taken the wrong way. Plus, David himself was powerless, so it would be awfully bold of him to criticize someone else based on that. Maybe the size of those rocks meant she was making headway, for all he knew?

Plus, Hilda was the one who was being ignored, and she didn’t seem to mind. She simply took her goopy metal form over to Frida’s side, gazing down at her work. “It’s getting better, definitely.”

“Thanks, but…” Frida let out a frustrated sigh. “...I kind of hoped it would be at least a little more fun than this.” She looked up at Hilda’s altered form for the first time since hitting the dial. “I’m fine looking at a manual or textbook for long periods of time, but at least memorizing each of those rules means progress.”

David could actually understand this. For him, homework and studying of any kind felt that way, like he wasn’t actually doing anything useful, unless you count pleasing the teacher, which he usually wasn’t good enough to do. Not since reception year at least, when the teacher had turned the learning into an activity…

“That’s it!” David exclaimed, as an idea popped into his mind. “Why don’t you make it into a game?”

“What?” Frida stood up and gave him a stern look. “Excuse me, but witchcraft is not a game. It requires a lot of careful study and research–it’s not some toy for personal amusement.”

And just like that, David’s habit of saying stupid things seemed to have hit a relapse. He slumped down on the stump he now used for a seat, groaning under his breath in disappointment. So much for being helpful…

But then, Hilda spoke up. “Actually, you might be onto something.” She turned over to Frida and explained. “That’s what I do with these forms–I just have fun with them. And I did it all the time in the wilderness, while I was out exploring; racing the woffs across the grasslands, seeing how quickly I could climb the interesting rock by the lake, hopping over the river-rocks and keeping as much balance as I could, all while racing Twig…”

Hilda trailed off a bit towards the end of that sentence, her mood dimming a bit after having referenced her deerfox companion. Come to think of it, David couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Twig in person; between busy schedules and this new habit of leaving the city, the little guy hadn’t appeared much lately. Was there a greater reason for that, or could Twig just be turning into a homebody?

Either way, Hilda bounced back quickly. “Whatever the case, things are better when they’re fun! I turn my training into a game, and so should you!”

“But how?” Frida questioned. “All it does is lift things up; what kind of game could you make from that?”

——————————

In hindsight, Frida could see just how stupid that question was.

Obviously, if you can lift something, throwing it wasn’t very far behind. And that’s what it became for the following days; Hilda with her various forms, using her powers with Frida’s magic in all sorts of ways.

Sometimes it would simply be a game of catch, using stones or sticks. Of course, between Stinkfly and XLR8 (the fast one), Hilda had an upperhand. But Frida still gave it her all, and she could feel herself getting sharper as she tried and failed to outdo her opponent.

It had been one-sided at first, with only Frida throwing, but soon she learned to catch as well, putting up a veil of energy for the “ball” to land in, and then send it back. It was a lot more productive than what she had been doing before.

But how they had gotten to the point of launching clay targets–by which she means scraps of wood they’d taken from the fallen log–Frida couldn’t remember.

“Heads-up!” Frida sent up another one into the sky, and then ducked back behind the nearest tree. The three of them had nearly had to learn the hard way to take cover, from a few close-calls in recent days. It took them too long to register that Hilda was essentially launching knives into the sky, crystal instead of steel but still very sharp. So it was best to clear a path in the clearing, and watch Hilda do the rest from a safe spot.

In her current form, known as Diamondhead from Frida’s suggestion (she’d finally gotten on board with that), Hilda let her hands grow with fresh crystal, into a garden of sharp spikes on her hands that then shot up into the air, some hitting the wooden scrap like darts and the rest falling down to harmlessly impale the dirt.

David called out from across the way. “New personal best! I think so.”

Frida nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re doing great, Hilda!”

Hilda shrugged it off, walking back to her starting position for another go, but Frida knew better that her Familiar wasn’t stone-cold, even in this form. She was about to prepare another target…

…but she halted, at the unmistakable sound of a car engine, approaching from the north. “Hide!”

——————————

The three of them quickly darted into the brush of the forest, Hilda being the most clumsy due to her current form; though well rounded, things like moving around quickly and laying low weren’t easy with a body like this.

But they found a good spot, and ducked under the bushes as the car towards the edge of the forest, stopping just before the entrance before shutting off. Followed by a car door opening and shutting, as well as footsteps through the brush. A walking pace, but clearly a purposeful one–had someone from Safety Patrol seen them out here? Or even worse, by Frida’s measure, could this be her parents or David’s, coming to confront the wayward children who’d broken the rules?

No, it was Safety Patrol. But it was just one lone officer, a stocky woman with platinum blonde hair and a brown uniform, armed with a notepad and a camera that looked brand new, neither of which were a good sign.

The woman looked around at the empty clearing, jotting down a few notes and mumbling to herself about it. “Signs of disturbances in the area–tracks, debris, fallen trees…” she trailed off a bit as she looked at the log in question, possibly raising an eyebrow at the large bite mark in the middle, though it was hard to tell.

Kicking herself for not taking the wood chunks out from the bite mark to obscure the shape, Frida…actually, she didn’t beat herself up about that, since it would’ve been pretty niche to have predicted that this might happen. The woman went on, “And what’s this?”

She knelt down to the ground and looked at the debris, and Frida now remembered that those were the targets from before. She left them alone, however, only taking an interest in the crystals, plucking them with a pair of tweezers and placing them into an evidence bag.

After snapping a few pictures, the officer seemed ready to leave. And it seemed like they might go undetected, but then…Hilda began to time out.

The terse precursory beeps began, and Frida began to panic as the woman’s head came up with a start, head turning all around her to find the source of this new sound. Frida looked Hilda in the eye and mouthed “run”, and her Familiar did just that, running further into the forest, avoiding the bushes and low branches as best she could.

But it was still pretty noisy. Hilda was still clumsy in this rigid crystalline form, that she couldn’t balance right. And as the louder beeps began, Frida was sure they would be caught.

But then, Frida saw the woman pull something out from her right ear, the one turned their way. Was that…a hearing aid?

Just then, the red flash and following sound came from the depths of the woods. But the woman didn’t look up; she simply flipped open the compartment and took something out, a battery perhaps? And then replaced it with another, before pushing back into her ear and out of sight. “Hmm, there we go.”

Had her hearing aid battery died, and their timing was lucky? Or did they also beep when they ran out, and she had just wasted what little was left by mistake? But more importantly, she was leaving now and hopefully hadn’t gotten wise to the three of them being out here. So, either way it was the lesser of two evils.

——————————

“Whew.” Hilda muttered as she saw the car drive away, and she felt safe to head back towards her friends, who were still crouching in the bushes. “Sorry about that, guys.”

David looked over at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We almost got caught. I made a mess and didn’t clean it up, and then she nearly looked over here thanks to the watch.”

Frida scoffed. “Like you could’ve predicted that. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Still, we ought to be more careful.” Hilda took her elbow in her opposite hand. “She knows that something is going on, now.”

“True.” Frida thought for a moment before settling on something. “Maybe we should call it a day. We’ve got the Woff Migration tomorrow, so we’ll already be taking a break then. We can see how we feel on Friday–cool?”

Hilda smiled. “Sure.”

“Works for me.” David piped up then. “Besides, I’ve already taken some detailed notes on the eight forms I’ve seen, so this is a good stopping point anyway.” He then handed the sheet to Hilda. “Does this look right to you?”

The list was almost complete: Wildmutt, Four Arms, Grey Matter, XLR8, Elastyclops, Diamondhead, Ripjaws, and Stinkfly. Two slots still remained empty, since Hilda still didn’t want to use the fire one, or bring Zs’Skayr out in daylight, so David had yet to meet them properly…but had pitched a bunch names for them, nevertheless.

They would all meet Zs’Skayr eventually, Hilda just had to find a good time to bring the subject up. And though she didn’t like thinking about it, she would eventually have to show off the fire one, at least for academic purposes.

“It looks great.” Hilda smiled at the bits of information, and even the little doodles in the margins. “Thank you.” They began to head back towards the city, calling it a day once and for all…

…until Frida sullied the mood. “Now, if only David put that much effort into his notes for class.”

“Hey!”

Chapter Text

Upon arriving in the city for the first time, Hilda had always assumed that city life was dull compared to the wilderness. And while she wasn’t wrong most days, she’d quickly learned that it didn’t make Trolberg worthless, either.

There were all kinds of adventures to be had inside the walls, with the city hosting its own population of interesting creatures. And not just different species, but people–witches and teachers and the Sparrow Scouts, for instance. So what if scouting activities didn’t involve changing shape and finding neat ways to practice with them? It was still fun, in a different way, especially when it meant going outside, closer to the wall than normal.

“Keep an eye to the sky, and count as many Woffs as you can.” Raven Leader called out to the entire flock, huddled off in little groups across the field. “Bonus points if you can tell the males from the females.”

Hilda was on watching duty, while David looked down at the field guide, open to a differentiating page. “That’s easy. The males have a brown spot on them.”

Brown spot? Woffs came in a number of different colors and patterns, but surely Hilda would’ve noticed by now if half of each flock came with that marking. She looked over at the book and saw the diagram properly. “David, that’s just your fudge pop melting.”

Sure enough, he wiped it off and took a taste test. “Oh.”

That wasn’t the important part for Hilda; the activity was perfectly fine to her, but apparently nothing could stop her brain from picking at it. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve seen the woffs migrate a thousand times before.”

Frida then spoke up, from her sitting position on a nearby rock. “Hilda, we’re helping Woffologists figure out their migration patterns. It’s one of the world’s greatest mysteries!” She then held up the book she was holding, and Hilda quickly recognized it–not as Frida’s binder, which lay next to her, but as a magical textbook. “Let me know if you spot a rare ‘white woff’; that’s a sign that magic is especially powerful this lunar cycle.”

“Are you doing witch homework, too?” Hilda asked, curiously. Despite the last month of Frida studying and practicing, the cyan-haired girl didn’t fully understand how magic worked or what the moon had to do with it. Was it a power source, or drawing magic from…someplace?

“Hmm. It’s not really homework. Just some low level fortune telling.” Low level, a reminder that Frida had the patience to go through magic page by page, while Hilda didn’t. Perhaps, a Familiar was supposed to respect magic, even if she didn’t really understand the full story…

Just then, the voice of another scout–Badia, if Hilda remembered the members of her flock correctly–carried over the crowd. “Look! Woffs!”

And sure enough, here they were! Coming over the horizon, dozens of woffs in familiar shades of tan, merrily making their way…northwest, for some reason, a quick revelation that made Hilda better understand why someone would want to study the pattern. But did they even have one? As far as Hilda could tell, they just went wherever the wind took them, and each season sent them in whichever way the breeze blew that…

DONG! DONG! DONG! A sudden ringing interrupted the moment. Hilda looked over and saw the tower nearest to them, built into the wall, was the source. And the woffs were equally startled as the children, save for the fact that they were moving in the air, instead of being anchored to the ground, throwing off their trajectory and causing them to weave about.

But the people on the ground weren’t doing much better. Frida plugged an ear with her free hand and shouted over the incessant ringing. “Why is that bell ringing?”

David answered without hesitation. “It’s a troll attack!”

That was obviously wrong, especially when it was Hilda to whom you were talking. “Can’t be, the sun is still up!”

Besides, even the most stubborn trolls would’ve run off after about ten rings of a bell that big; the tower had passed that checkpoint already, and clearly had no intention of letting up. Leaving it only an unjustified nuisance to the kids trying to count woffs…not to mention the woffs themselves, who were about to crash into the ground!

“Dodge the woffs!” Another scout–Willy–called out, nearly getting hit by a woff heading for his spot, before he jumped out of the way. The entire thing sent the flock of Scouts into disarray, as Raven Leader tried in vain to manage the chaos. “Everyone stay calm…” while also ratifying Willy’s suggestion. “...and dodge the woffs!”

Hilda and her friends dodged as best as they could, helping David up when a bad step sent him falling back and losing his fudge pop. But the Woffs were of much greater concern; Hilda had rarely seen them properly land, since they stuck to the skies ninety percent of the time.

And obviously, crash-landing was much worse. “They need our help!” She grabbed a stick and ran over to a woff rolling helplessly across the field, and stuck it underneath. A rock embedded into the dirt helped her to jimmy the poor creature and sent it up off of the ground, and the gases in its round body did the rest, allowing it to fly off as Hilda called out. “We have to get them back in the air!”

In Trolberg and beyond, Hilda had won herself a certain reputation, as being the weird girl who talks with creatures. But despite the town’s occasional judgment, no one dared to argue with her here, as it would take a rare Trevor-like level of dismissal to ignore these poor things in their time of need.

And so the flock banded together, breaking off into groups to push the woffs up, allowing them to take flight and continue on their journey. Once the chaos and bell ringing came to a finish, Raven Leader took charge again. “Great work, sparrows. Now, did anyone get a count?”

Obviously, the entire flock shook their heads, literally flat on their backs from the panic and effort. Raven Leader let out a conflicted sigh; there might not be a badge for the count this time around, but Hilda liked to think everyone earned a couple points towards the Care For Animals badge or the like.

“That bell really confused those poor woffs; why on Earth would the bell keeper ring it?” Coming back to the present moment, Hilda couldn’t ignore the lack of sense in that event. Looking over at the tower, the shadow of the bell could be seen, with a human shape right next to it, the likely culprit. “Hey, bell keeper!”

No answer; in fact, he didn’t even move. Hilda might like to give him a piece of her mind, but it wouldn’t do well to make a scene in front of the entire Sparrow Scout flock. Between that and a bit of exhaustion, this could wait for another time.

——————————

So once they were all done, Hilda just headed home for the day. She walked through the door to the flat and headed towards the sofa, climbing over the arm and flopping down on her back. But she was hardly alone; Mum was still working over at her desk on a new commission, and Twig came over to Hilda’s side for some petting.

“How did it go?” Her mum’s voice came over the room, and admittedly, Hilda felt part of her jump at the sound, before quickly silencing it. “I remember counting woffs when I was a Sparrow Scout. You’d think they’d have all that figured out by now.”

It wasn’t easy; that panic was from an irrational part of Hilda’s brain, from which her plan to hide her powers came. But then again, Johanna was only asking about the migration, and it had been a few weeks since she’d last asked what Hilda was doing while she was out, anyway, so she clearly wasn’t suspicious.

Hilda calmed herself down, scratching Twig behind his ears as a way to ground herself from the scared thoughts. “Eh, it was just like any other woff migration.” But then again, the events from today were pretty interesting, unfortunate though they were. “Oh, except for when–”

But she was cut off when a bunch of papers fell from the drawing board, as her mum grunted in annoyance. “Oh. Sorry, one moment.”

Hilda got to her feet and helped her mum pick it all up, hearing the complaints that came along with it. “This new commission is driving me crazy! The reference material they gave me is way more in-depth than necessary.” And she had a point; looking at a few sheets, they even had mechanics and some outright blueprints for the bells.

A chilling reminder for Hilda; she was scared for a reason. It wasn’t just the fire, but her mum’s work that encompassed her problem. She was busy trying to provide for their family on a single income–perfectly doable with her new work contract, but time-consuming and very stressful. And the work she did was for the Trolberg Bellmakers’ Corporation, the very people involved with the tower incident from before.

“Ugh. What were you saying?” Johanna’s voice spoke out again once she’d collected her things. But Hilda had been allowed almost fifteen whole seconds to (over)think; her mum was contributing to some not-nice stuff, but she couldn’t help it, and she certainly didn’t need the added aggravation of hearing her hard work being sullied by her daughter’s complaints.

“Um, just that the migration count was fun. You know, science and stuff.”

Did her mum buy that explanation? Maybe. Either way, she didn’t press the issue, so Hilda then excused herself to her room, kicking off her boots and collapsing onto her bed. Between the ruptured plans, the leftover exhaustion of school and training, and the burden of secrets on her shoulders, she needed a long rest.

“Um, Hilda?” Alfur’s voice then came over the room. She looked up to see him in the doorway of his little clock house, discomfort present in his tone. “We’ve got a…visitor.”

And from the dial-based doorway, came a bearded face that Hilda would recognize anywhere. “Bartel!”

Alfur was still…visibly uncomfortable. “He rode in on a pigeon.”

And sure enough, the pigeon poked its head out of the doorway, too. But that wasn’t the point, really, as Bartel gave an ominous phrase in place of a greeting. “There is much to discuss.”

——————————

Hilda was no stranger to bringing people and creatures into her home on short notice, and her mum had always taught her to be hospitable. So she put out a plate of leftover biscuits, which Bartel and…Cedric, if she heard right, seemed to enjoy. But refreshments barely slowed down his tale of woe.

“Every hour, the bell tower tolls its terrible ‘dong’. Livestock have stopped producing. We can’t even finish a good braid!” And he pulled off his cap then, revealing a…less than neat job done on his bangs.

“That’s terrible!”

“I know, you don’t have to rub it in.” Bartel replied, putting his cap back on.

Hilda’s commentary on the situation had been mistaken as a criticism, but there were other things at hand. “It’s not just the elves; that bell’s messing with the woffs.”

Just then, there was a sound as her sock drawer came open, a familiar hairy face greeting her. “The nisse, too.”

“Tontu!” Hilda greeted him, as Bartel raised his spear defensively at this new person–of course, he couldn’t really attack unless Tontu came closer to his position, so Hilda paid no mind. “You can hear the bell all the way in Nowhere Space?”

“Yeah, the acoustics in here are awful.” He pulled out a set of black ear-plugs and put them in…and then braced them with an extra pair of Hilda’s socks, before disappearing back into his den.

But the problem was becoming bigger now; Hilda had developed a complicated feeling about bells over the past months. They helped her mum put food on the table, and kept the hypothetical bad-acting trolls from getting too bold. But the bells did so by hurting them; now it was affecting multiple types of creatures, both outside and inside of Trolberg, so Hilda couldn’t possibly ignore it anymore. “Bartel, we should do something!”

“Ha, ha! Oh, I knew you’d be ready for battle.” The warrior elf jumped onto Hilda’s left shoulder and made a little pose. “We ride at sun-up!”

“Battle?”

“We’ve declared war on the bell tower. We’ll take it down brick by brick, or die trying!” He then let out a little warrior cry, which banished any residual doubts that he was being serious.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” While Hilda agreed that it was a serious problem, she still didn’t think it was necessary for anyone to get hurt, even as part of a solution. “I know the Bell Keeper, so I’ll just go talk to him.”

“Besides, if you did rip out bricks, wouldn’t they fall down on your troops? I don’t know the ins and outs of Elf paperwork, but I don’t think inanimate objects need to sign the paperwork in order to crush you.”

Alfur piped in then. “Well, uh…that actually depends.” He put a not-hand to his chin. “The paperwork accommodates objects being worn or wielded by people or animals, such as shoes or a walking stick. It would really be a matter whether the bricks are city property, and if their intended design was to fall on interlopers when removed, and furthermore if the head of Trolberg’s human bureaucracy has signed the paperwork…”

Bartel let out a groan. “It was just an ultimatum! In case the tower was unmanned when we showed up.” Being from the Lost Clan, his disdain for paperwork and technicalities wasn’t news to anyone in this room.

He then turned back towards Hilda. “Fine, we’ll try Hilda's way. But if diplomacy fails, combat!” He leapt down from Hilda’s shoulder and mounted his pigeon for a dramatic exit. “Fly, Cedric, fly!” And so he did, although briefly overshooting it and hitting the glass, before slipping out through the gap and into the night.

——————————

Hilda had come up with a foolproof way to sneak out without being noticed; between the creaky window and Mr. Ostenfeld going outside to water his plants, using the fire escape was a risky bet.

But one that she didn’t have to take, not when she had the watch. She tucked herself away in her closet and hid it in the dark, to mask the light and sound of changing form. Between the dark night, her need to escape an enclosed space without detection, and not having been the ghost in a while, it seemed like the perfect plan.

If only she could remember what’d happened, immediately after she hit the dial…

Hilda couldn’t describe it. She wasn’t really asleep, but not awake, either–sleepwalking?

All that Hilda could find in her brain were fuzzy images: of leaving the flat, of heading northeast towards the Lost Clan’s village…at least, she thought so. She couldn’t actually remember if she saw the elves or buildings when she passed them by–was she in the wrong place, or did they pack up and leave?

No, Bartel promised to go to war with the tower, so there was no reason to suspect that his entire culture would retreat so easily. But then, her vision cleared a bit as she floated up to the tower window, and floated inside…

——————————

DONG! DONG!

“GAH!” Hilda felt herself jolt back to consciousness. A horrible noise was coming through the air, like a bell except…so much worse. Like she was right next to it, right as the keeper had begun ringing it…

DONG! DONG! DONG! Wait, was she actually inside the tower!? She had really made that trip? Sure enough, the bell was right next to her on the left, and the silhouette of the keeper to her right. “What are you doing!?”

DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! Her whispery voice was easily drowned out by the sound around her. Hilda plugged her ears(?) and just waited it out, until it finally came to an end.

Whatever had happened with the bell had caused Hilda to snap fully back to reality, allowing her to take a proper look at her surroundings. This was the bell tower, the right one at the northeast edge of the city, and as she looked down at the ground, the Lost Clan was there after all, with their little huts arranged into the village and torches lighting an area where Bartel and Cedric had landed.

Zs’Skayr’s voice then came from the back of her mind. “Everything is fine. You just blacked out for a little bit. When you transformed, you were barely able to float in a straight line, so I took the reins for a while.”

He did what?! Hilda waited for him to explain himself, but there was no answer. So instead, she spoke up. “You possessed my body?!”

Apparently, Zs’Skayr couldn’t read her thoughts, even when they shared a body, but he still understood this. “Correction: I borrowed MY body back…” There was a bit of a bite to his words. “...for a few moments. You were the one who was barely able to float in a straight line, so I steered us to where you wanted to go: towards this horrible ringing noise.”

Hilda wondered, had she really done so badly? Her own mind had gone foggy and black when she’d left the flat, almost like her own energy was just screaming for her to stop. Which was odd; the night didn’t hold this form back like the sun did, so what could make her suddenly feel so…weak?

Or maybe that was her brain shutting off, because she was even more tired from recent events than even she thought; Zs’Skayr had likely meant well, and after all he’d been nice enough to let her use his own body, all while he had nothing better to do with it. Maybe he was looking out for her, after all?

“Okay, sorry.” If nothing else, this explained why the Lost Clan had disappeared before: since Zs’Skayr had control of the form but hadn’t signed the paperwork himself, it stood to reason that elves wouldn’t be visible through his eye. But regardless of who had control, either one of them could see in the dark, so she turned over to the culprit of the bell standing in the corner, her tone reflecting the offense taken that it may have been rung from her. “Seriously, what were you thinking?”

But now that she had a proper look, Hilda’s ghostly eye could make out the truth; that was no person, but a robot of some kind? A very basic one, anchored to the floor like a gumball machine and brandishing a single arm attached to a rope, now motionless as the ringing had stopped.

Just then, she heard a new sound from behind her, the sound of steps coming up a set of stairs.

“Who’s there!?”

“Uh-oh!” Hilda quickly focused her energy, and sure enough, she found herself able to turn invisible, just as the door swung open. A familiar face came through, brandishing a yellow raincoat and…a sandwich?

It was the Bellkeeper! Just who she came to see: Hilda went through the wall and down the staircase, hovering just above the bottom floor. “I need to speak with him. How much time until we change back?”

“I flew slowly to not interrupt your mental nap, so we should be almost out of time anyway.” And sure enough, the rapid beeping filled the air a second later.

Hilda ducked outside the door just in time to become herself again, and then without missing a beat, hastily knocked. It wasn’t long until the door opened and the Bellkeeper came back out, to see Hilda standing there at the threshold, arms crossed and giving him a nasty look. “I’d like to have a word with you.”

Chapter Text

Anyone who knew Hilda could tell you this: respect for authority was no guarantee.

That’s not to say that she was a rude, ill-mannered person with no restraint; just that she didn’t think adults were entitled to different standards than a child. Her mum hadn’t really raised her with a strict, blind adherence to the rules, instead teaching her practical knowledge of the world around her and the importance of minding one’s manners.

Hilda came to respect her mum naturally, and never wished to disappoint her about important things. But, while she lacked the inexplicable fear many other kids had of upsetting adults, most grown-ups were still okay in her book.

But with what Hilda had seen with this machine, the Bellkeeper wasn’t looking very good right now. “That weird little girl who came here with Ahlberg on Inspection Day. What about?”

“Well, what’s the emergency?” While up in the tower, Hilda hadn’t gotten the best look out the window, given her tired daze and the overstimulation of the bell, but surely she would’ve noticed if something were happening. “Why do you keep ringing that bell?”

“I’m not the one ringing it.” He took a quick bite of his sandwich, and up close Hilda could confirm that it was cucumber; silly as it may seem, it reminded her that they still had something in common. “The bell’s been completely automated now. It rings on the hour, every hour.”

Hilda wasn’t keeping track of the time between ringings, since she didn’t have a watch…not one that told her the time, at least. But that seemed about right in her mind. “But why?”

The Bellkeeper let out a sigh, looking down at his own watch–a proper watch, for the time. “Come on. I guess I can take my break a few minutes early.”

——————————

Alfur had to admit, Bartel’s arrival had been a surprise. Especially since it had been a while since they’d had visitors.

Nowadays, Hilda opted to spend nearly every free moment of daylight outdoors, which wasn’t a shock coming from her, but the reason was clear; she was working on her new powers. And more recently, Frida and David were made aware of them, too. So Alfur saw it as likely for them to be trying this out together, instead of bringing them back to the flat like she once did.

But if Hilda was practiced enough to have her friends around during, then why not take Twig with her? She’d confided in Alfur about the incident with the Draugen, so it was obvious that she was worried about putting him in harm’s way, which was fair enough. But those two had been inseparable for years; wouldn’t he have the wisdom to duck out of the way of some projectile or the like, since even–not to judge–David did, by now?

Just then, there was an odd sound from below, which Alfur recalled as the sound of Nowhere Space being opened and shut. He looked down to see Tontu staring up at him, tilting his head. “Something on your mind?”

Before now, Alfur and Tontu only spoke occasionally, as they were somewhere between casual roommates and mutual acquaintances. A greeting at each breakfast they shared, some light needling from time to time, a bit of conversation…usually centered around Hilda. This wasn’t exactly new to them, but not common, either. “Well, it’s just…uh…”

“If you don’t want to talk, I won’t make you.” He tilted his head at the elf standing on the edge of the shelf. “Just that you’re usually inside right about now. People usually have a reason for standing around.”

“Um…”

“Worried about Hilda, huh?” The Nisse glanced towards the opposite side of the room, towards the closet from which Hilda had disappeared. “She’ll be back.”

“Of course. I know that, but…” Alfur scratched the back of his head. “...I’m more worried about her, in general.”

Tontu gave a small chuckle. “I hear that. Spend enough time around people, and they’ll start growing on you. Of course, my last homeowner wasn’t too chummy, so there was no point in showing myself around her.”

“Quite true.” But it was only a broad summary of this situation. “Then again, these past few weeks have been very…interesting to say the least.”

Despite a number of doubts he had about Hilda’s methods, Alfur had willingly signed a non-disclosure agreement, forbidding any discussion about her new watch, with Johanna or anyone within proximity with her. And based on the fine print of the ever-practical and cautious Huldun code, every person in the world was regarded as a potential (however unlikely) informant, and by extension Tontu.

But then again, the NDA made an exception for discussing things with people who’d already learned about them through other means, which left anything and everything else as a judgment call.

So, Alfur felt that it was worth the small risk of asking. “A few weeks ago, those things that happened at the windmill–Hilda told me about them.” He hadn’t actually witnessed these events, not even the parts of that weekend that’d happened here in the flat, since he’d spent those days lodging with the new Huldun village for a diplomatic conference. “So…you know?”

“About her watch? Sure. What about it?”

“And you’re just…okay with keeping a secret?” Nisse weren’t exactly famous for filing paperwork, much less to the extent of deciphering social situations as did the elves. But he and Tontu were in a similar position, of knowing this sensitive information and having to stay quiet. “From Johanna, I mean.”

“Well, I get how Hilda would be nervous.” Tontu then put a hand to his chin. “Although…wait, no. She wasn’t there for that, so how could she know?”

“Know about what?” Apparently, there was something else that Alfur hadn't witnessed in this household, a bit of embarrassment for the bureaucrat whose job it was to catalogue Hilda’s life, such as it was. “Just what else happened that weekend I was away?”

“Not that weekend–a different one.” Tontu seemed a bit nervous now; Johanna was still hard at work at this time of the evening, and had a better likelihood of falling asleep than to randomly check up on her two adult roommates. So she wasn’t likely to overhear, but Tontu seemed…uncomfortable. “It was over a month ago, on the day that the Great Raven visited. Earlier that afternoon, Johanna and I had a…conversation.”

——————————

Alright, so the Bell Keeper was an okay person.

Taking Hilda back up into the tower, he showed her the machine. She’d already seen most of it, a few moments when Zs’Skayr had gotten her inside and then she’d snuck back down. But he didn’t need to know that, and there were a few things she’d missed.

The control panel along the wall for one thing, a slanted chunk of metal which she’d initially mistaken for a low shelf. Alas, there were buttons lit up with soft orange light, a little screen that read ONLINE, and a little placard with a familiar symbol (though she couldn’t place it) and the machine’s title: MECHANICAL BELLKEEPER. The whole thing was also courtesy of Safety Patrol, apparently.

So the incessant ringing throughout the day, for no real reason and bothering all of the creatures around, wasn’t his fault. “Completely automated” meant that he had no control over this thing anymore–the name of the panel was a misnomer, as it didn’t turn it on and off, only running diagnostic works…whatever those meant.

After that, The Bellkeeper had invited Hilda back to his cabin with the promise to put a kettle on. He didn’t strike Hilda as a terribly social person, but in this part of the world, hot tea was often an opener to a proper conversation, so…maybe he wanted someone to listen?

So she went along, secure in the knowledge that her mum was probably too busy to notice a few minutes more of her absence, considering that this was probably another takeout night, and the delivery driver took his sweet time on weeknights, for some reason.

His cabin was small, sitting at the edge of the wall right next to the tower’s entrance, a sad fate for him having to hear this thing from up close, but her concern was somewhat quieted when she noticed a couple sets of noise-cancelling headphones near the rack where he’d hung his coat. And soon, the kettle was on, leaving Hilda twiddling her thumbs in those spare minutes, with only the sound of the radio playing a folksy song in the background.

So she looked around the simple interior, until her eyes fell upon a map taped onto the wall, with pictures of woffs and markings drawn in ink. “What’s this?”

“Just some notes on the woff migration patterns.” The Bellkeeper answered, handing her a mug of tea.

“You’ve figured them out?” She asked, taking the cup. With this information, he ought to give this over to Raven Leader and spare the Flock some trouble.

“Partly. I had to.” He took a sip from his own mug. “Woffs kept getting caught in my laundry line.”

Hilda let out a chuckle, and he followed soon after. So, it wasn’t enough to cancel their efforts–just practicality.

Then, the Bellkeeper got around to his point. “Used to be an army of Bellkeepers. Now, it’s just me.” He walked over to the table and set down his cup. “I’ve manned these towers for years, never once had to ring a bell. It’s a big wall; no troll is getting over it.”

That aligned with what Hilda knew; she wondered why the sentries on the wall were so lax these days, but it made sense if he was the only one looking outside of Trolberg these days. Then again, someone had reported the forest fire to Safety Patrol a month ago, so he clearly wasn’t negligent, either.

Hilda chose to carefully broach that subject, considering her…more recent actions in the area. “I guess, you would just keep an eye out for anything else that catches your eye. Like, any real threats or the like.”

“Aye. I’ve had practice with that.” He then strolled over towards a closet across the room. “Most interesting thing I saw was a brief forest fire a month ago. I think I still have the original photo here somewhere.”

Hilda felt her blood turn to ice then. Just how much did he know?! He didn’t live within viewing distance of that grim scene, but he’d said “towers”, so he would probably get around. Had he only seen the wreckage after the fact, or did he also catch what’d happened before?

The Bellkeeper opened the closet and began to rummage through a box on a chest-high shelf, and Hilda began to weigh her options. Running wouldn’t save her now, and destroying whatever he had would serve as a sign of guilt on her end.

“Let’s see, now.” The Bellkeeper rummaged through his stuff, pulling out…a gun! Hilda felt an involuntary sense of panic, nearly reaching for the watch without even knowing if it was recharged or not. But she relaxed when she saw it was only a deer musket, which still wasn’t a proper thing to have in her opinion, but the thick rust covering the metal told that it hadn’t been used in some time. Maybe it was antique, leftover from years past?

The Bellkeeper still turned back towards Hilda and saw her expression, chuckling sheepishly as he set the unused object to the side. “I get around a lot. This thing, here is…a long story.” He then pulled out a few more objects, with similarly dismissive comments.

A pendant of silver, shaped like a bell, attached to a little string of twine. “This one’s an even longer story.”

A well-used textbook with a worn-out cover, the remaining letters reading, The Basics of Hy… before fading away. “This one has a bunch of littler stories tied to it, believe it or not.”

Then another book, newer and more legibly titled, An Introduction to Sign Language – Greetings, Basic Phrases, and Conveying Emotion. “I won’t even get you started on why I have this.”

All Hilda could tell from this is that the Bellkeeper lived an interesting life aside from his current job, or did once, in the past. Finally, he pulled out a simple blue folder, and Hilda tensed up again as he set the thing down on the table. He opened it up and fished through the pocket until he found it, a simple little Polaroid picture.

Setting it on the table was a snapshot of the scene that day, and Hilda grimaced at the all-too familiar sight of the forest at the beginning of its blaze. It was already burned into her memory (sorry), so there wasn’t really anything left to catch her off-guard, except…since it was only the beginning, that first tree having only just begun spreading flames onto the others, before Hilda had bolted towards the stream. And sure enough…there she was, on the ground, rolling in the dirt in a futile attempt to extinguish herself.

Hilda tried to curb her panic, but it did show up a bit in her next words. “So, that’s a strange creature!” She’d tried to make it sound casual, mixed with a bit of curiosity, but the Bellkeeper still gave her a look as she went on. “Any-any other pictures you took, for information purposes?”

“Some, but just of the blaze and that creature disappearing into the woods.” The Bellkeeper rolled his eyes. “Gerda hounded me for more details, but manning bell towers means being nocturnal, so I‘d only just woken up and didn’t think to use my last bits of film sparingly in the daze.”

That gave Hilda a bit of relief, as well as an explanation for why he’d been so grumpy the first time they’d met–showing up for Inspection Day had him waking up even earlier in the afternoon than he might’ve liked.

That was something else they had in common–dissatisfaction with Safety Patrol.

“So why would Safety Patrol ring this bell now? It’s confusing the woffs, bothering the elves, distracting the nisse…”

“It’s Ahlberg's idea.” The Bellkeeper rolled his eyes a second time, with noticeably more vigor than before. “He thinks more bell-ringing will keep the city safer.”

Of course, it was Ahlberg to blame for this. “But it won’t. It’s just causing chaos!”

The Bellkeeper leaned his hands on the table. “And it’s about to get a lot worse. This one's just a test: Ahlberg’s installed mechanical bellkeepers in every belltower in the city.”

“What?” Hilda couldn't believe that. But then he gestured to another map on the wall, opposite to the one for the woffs. Sure enough, there were arrows and circles to each structure along the wall, connected by the center of Trolberg proper.

“The whole system goes live in a few days at some big ceremony. Soon, every bell in Trolberg will be ringing–on the hour, every hour.”

“That's ridiculous!” Knowing Ahlberg, he might’ve had it so that the bells rang every minute, or even each second, but the mayor probably wouldn’t let him go that far–no one would sign off on that. “Can’t you turn them off?”

Hilda realized instantly that it was a stupid question, since they’d just gone over this a few minutes ago, but the Bellkeeper didn’t seem to be judging her. “Nothing I can do from here. The bells will all be controlled from a central tower.” He walked over to his kitchen sink and set his mug down–he certainly paced a lot when talking, almost as much as her mum did when she was nervous, which he clearly was. “I'm keeping an eye on it for a few weeks before I'm phased out. If I'm lucky, they'll hire me for bell maintenance.”

First the creatures, then the kids, and now people were beginning to lose their jobs? “We can stop this. We’ve got to!”

The Bellkeeper let out a sigh. “Give up, kid. It’s no use.” He strolled over to the radio and clicked the thing off. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to leave a career I liked–I was part of the Ironworkers before this, but an injury put me off the job for good.”

“Ironworkers?” Hilda didn’t understand what that entailed. “Who are they?” Did he used to be a welder of some kind? Or an auto mechanic? Maybe he once forged the metal for the bells he’d then ended up keeping, although those seemed to be brass…

The Bellkeeper gave her a look of surprise, like he’d somehow expected her to know. “Oh, uh…not important. Just a lot of metal stuff; won’t get into that, either.” He shrugged on his coat, and slipped back into his defeated attitude. “I’ve gotta get back to work.” He held open the door and showed Hilda out, and then turned to go back to his station.

——————————

Alfur wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.

“Oh, dear. Robbed…by another Nisse?” And as a child, no less, living in a boarding school in what was then an unfamiliar city.

“In her defense…” Tontu let out a sigh. “...she wasn’t wrong about us exactly, just one-sided. Things fall into Nowhere Space, and sometimes we confuse others for offerings. But her favorite cloak definitely wasn’t either of those things.”

Johanna had expressed some dire prejudice against Nisse when theirs had first come around. Obviously, it wasn’t fair to treat every member of a species badly based on stereotype, or even trauma. Then again, that didn’t mean it wasn’t understandable. “That must’ve hurt her deeply.”

“And also…” Tontu twiddled his thumbs a bit. “Hilda told me about meeting Victoria Van Gale for the first time, with the Great Raven and getting lost afterward.” He then looked at the wall connecting to the hallway, where the living room was relative to the both of them. “When he came by to say farewell, did she seem…tense at all?”

Alfur thought back a bit. “Now that you mention it…” With a parent, it was hard to discern their typical everyday anxiety from a moment of greater fear, especially the mother of a child so spirited as Hilda. “...she was a bit on-edge.”

“So, uh…” Tontu gave him a look, though it was hard to tell from his haircut. “...how do you think she would react to Hilda changing shape? Into forms whose powers make it easier to get into danger?”

That did it. Alfur wasn’t sure that Hilda even knew about this, but this did give him insight either way. Firming up her case and getting a full handle on her powers, now seemed all the more important for the good to cancel out the bad.

Just then, a shape came over the opposing window, as Hilda crawled back into the room and shut the thing behind her. Alfur extended a casual greeting. “Oh, you’re back.”

Hilda gave him a little wave, but then moved out into the hallway for some reason. Less than a minute passed before she returned, with…the blueprints from her mother’s project?!

“Hilda? What are you doing with those?”

“Don’t worry; I’m just borrowing it.” Hilda rebutted. Alfur was about to protest again, until he saw her take out a large sheet of thin parchment from her drawer. She placed it over the blueprints on her desk and began tracing the lines with her pencil, which partly put him at ease.

Borrowing meant…actually borrowing, and she would put the original back in a few minutes. Her having it in the first place meant that Johanna was probably asleep, so it wouldn’t be missed.

——————————

And so, Hilda found that her friends, all of them humans and creatures bothered by the bells, were willing to help. “If we sneak into that tower, and cut this one particular wire…poof! The whole system goes down.”

David was still a bit apprehensive, staring down at the little cardboard sculpture she’d made of the city square for this plan. “Sneak in? But the tower’s crawling with Safety Patrol.”

“And that’s why we do it during the ceremony tomorrow, when everybody’s listening to Erik Ahlberg’s speech.” It had to happen on the day of the unveiling. When all of Safety Patrol would be busy with the ceremony, and no one would be left to monitor the machine from inside.

Tontu reiterated this idea. “Ooh, smart plan.”

Hilda smiled a bit at that, before assigning people their jobs. “David, you’ll be the lookout.” She put a little ladybug on his position to represent him, and he seemed satisfied with it.

“I’m great at looking at things.”

Then over to the next phase of her plan. “Bartel, do you think you and the Lost Clan can distract any guards that stay behind?” She marked their position with one of Alfur’s spare hats.

“Aye. My pigeon riders will attack from the air, while Agnes leads a ground assault.” He let out a confident chuckle. “Those guards won’t know what hit them.”

“Because you’ll be invisible, of course!” Hilda agreed.

But then, Frida spoke up. “Wait, Hilda.” The witch turned over to face the blue-haired girl. “Speaking of invisible, wouldn’t it be simpler to, uh…” she looked down at Bartel before continuing. “...call upon your ghost friend?”

It occurred to Hilda that she hadn’t properly introduced Frida and David to Zs’Skayr, so she was likely paraphrasing in case Bartel was to be kept in the dark for some reason. “Oh, right. About that…I’m not supposed to take that form out in daylight, remember?”

“You can’t make an exception?”

“I’m sorry, but no.” And boy, Hilda had tried! But the forecast was sunny tomorrow, and Zs’Skayr had been adamant that she not break her promise, from how uncomfortable it made him. No matter how much she insisted how quick it would be, she was met with this:

“Gee, it’s not like you have nine other forms at your command, and a fleet of people in your life willing to act as your personal soldiers–they may be feeble on their own, but they can be useful if given leadership. But no, no, please ignore all of those assets and abuse my offer of hospitality instead, no matter how sick it makes me feel.”

So, that was the end of that idea.

“Ha!” Bartel didn’t seem bothered by this, context notwithstanding. “Looks like we elves are going to battle after all!” He put an arm around Alfur, implying that he was grouping the little bureaucrat in with him.

“‘We…?’”

“Anyway…” Hilda moved on with the rest of her plan, with a ball of brown fluff in her hand. “Tontu will use Nowhere Space to get me and Frida into the tower…”

She then turned over to her witch friend, who held up a chess piece and placed it into the window. “…and then I’ll use a finding spell to, uh, find the right wire.” Hilda imagined that Frida would probably take the spellbook with her, given that she was still new at this, or maybe just write it down on a little note to herself?

Either way, the plan had to move forward. “Once Frida’s done her spell, I’ll snip the wire, and then…no more mechanical bellkeepers!”

The group let out a chorus of cheers, except for twig, who let out an inquisitive whimper. Luckily, since she was going to avoid using the watch unless necessary, he was more than welcome to stay at her side. “Twig, I’ll need you with me, for protection.”

Most of the people here knew that it was a lie, but they didn’t seem to mind. “Everybody in?” And they were, even doing that thing where they all put their hands (or not-hands, in the case of the elves) in the middle

“Wait.” David then spoke up a final time. “In films, operations like this always have a codename.” Maybe he was sincere, or had gotten too used to naming things in the past few weeks. “How about Operation Deerfox…Thunder…Team?”

In Hilda’s opinion, she would’ve settled for Operation Deerfox, but no one else seemed to mind the extra words, so why make a fuss? Especially since their plan tomorrow was to do just that. “Alright on three. One…two…”

“Operation Deerfox Thunder Team!”

——————————

That next day, a Saturday, was a day where Hilda’d woken up with hope. Everything was in order; the Lost Clan was in on it, her friends would be in position, and everything would be alright.

Hilda went out into the living room after she was through getting ready, with Alfur tagging along on her right ear–she would drop him off on a windowsill closer to the meetup point along the way. “Hey, Mum. Are you ready to–”

But her mum didn’t respond. Hilda turned all of the way around the corner to see the living room properly, and saw that the woman was on the phone.

It wasn’t uncommon to see this, since her commissions came with occasional last minute changes, which often earned the caller an annoyed expression that they would never see. But this was different; her expression was one of worry, pacing back and forth across the room anxiously. She seemed grimly invested in what the other person was saying, but only gave back a “yes” or an “I see” every once in a while, with as much of a neutral tone as she could offer.

“Yes, we’ll…be there in a bit.” She pulled the thing back from her ear and hit the power button, letting out a sigh as soon as the line went dead.

Hilda was back on edge now; did Mum have to work today after all, even though her project had ended and the posters were already on display? Or had something bad happened? Could that have been Auntie Astrid on the phone–or worse, her doctor–giving them bad news?

“Mum?” Hilda finally said, and her mother’s gaze rose from the floor to meet hers. “Who was that?”

“That was the front desk at Safety Patrol Headquarters.” There was observable strain in her voice as she set the phone down on its receiver. “Deputy Gerda wants to see you.”