Whizardy Witch and The Scary Windmill Whizardy Witch is always whizzing around. She is the fastest witch in the Land of Magic. “Zoomedy zoom, let’s go broom,” she squeals, making her broomstick go faster. Whiz, and off she whizzes. One day, Whizardy Witch was won- dering what to do next. She had completed all her chores at home, helping mum and dad. Now she wanted to find something ex- citing to do. “Can I go off to play now please,” she asked. “Be back before teatime Whiz,” said mum. Whizardy Witch put on her cape and hat, grabbed her magic spell satchel, and then called to broom- stick, “Zoomedy zoom, let’s go broom.” “Not too fast,” shouted mum. Too late, Whizardy Witch was already zooming far across the meadows heading for the river. She flew for a few minutes before aiming off towards the jagged mountains. Today the sky was dark and stormy in the land of magic. Whiz flew up through the clouds and out into the bright sunshine. She could see the tops of some very big storms ahead, so she turned and zoomed off in the other direction. Faster and faster she flew, urging her broomstick to zoom even quicker than her usual zooming pace. Gradually, she left the storms behind and the clouds began to break up, allowing brief glimpses of the land below. “Let’s explore down there,” she said to broomstick. Whizardy Witch headed down into a part of the land of magic she did not recognise. Here, there were many rounded hills, all covered in green grass and dotted with wildflowers. Over to her right she saw an ancient looking windmill, sat all alone on top of the tallest hill around. “Wow! Look at that. Stop there, at the windmill broom,” Whiz called excitedly. The windmill was very tall, old and quite weathered. A large padlock sealed the only door firmly closed. A handwritten notice, pinned on the door, read, “Do not enter!” Whizardy Witch pressed her eye up against a crack in the woodwork and looked inside. She could not see very much but at the back, some- thing caught her eye. “I am going to need an opening spell to get inside,” said Whizardy. She pulled out a blue and a brown leaf from her satchel and squashed them together. Broomstick quivered a warning against ignoring the message on the door. “It was put there for a reason,” it said sensibly. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll be fine,” she said confidently. Broomstick tried hard to pull her away, but Whizardy Witch insisted. She remembered a simple spell, “Mice that run around and squeal, hurry fast to break this seal.” The padlock shuddered but didn’t open. Whiz thought hard for a moment then tried a more powerful opening spell that required three green leaves, “Hands that turn on a cuckoo clock, unwind the key within this lock.” The leaves flashed briefly, forming into a puff of greenish smoke in the shape of a key. Magically, the key entered the old padlock and turned slowly. The lock fell open on the floor. Whizardy Witch pulled hard on the door. The rusty hinges creaked loudly grinding as they opened. In- side, the light flooded the large room. Cobwebs filled every space. At the back, a tall hovering broom- stick quivered at the sight of the sun. “What is that? An old broom,” wondered Whizardy. “Come here broom, come to me,” she ordered. Instead of obeying the command, the broomstick moved slyly back into the shadows out of sight. “I don’t want to have to come in and get you broom,” said Whizardy forcefully. She did not like spiders and cobwebs very much. “Come out here now!” she repeated. “No,” the broomstick replied. Whizardy Witch stepped gingerly in- side. She used her hands to peel away the sticky webs. They clung to her hair, stuck to her arms, and pulled at her clothes. “Yuck!” she complained. After taking a few steps, she noticed some huge hairy spiders hanging from threads, as thick as string. They were bigger than her satchel. She turned to leave, but the door slammed shut. A terrible laugh echoed around the darkened space. Whizardy felt the spiders landing on her and trying to wrap her in cob- webs. She flicked the horrible creatures off, but there were too many. She ran forwards into the darkness, scared and lost. “I need a lighting spell, quick,” she squealed. More spiders fell from the ceiling and rafters. Whizardy Witch fell over something on the floor. She realised the wicked broomstick had tripped her up. Quickly reaching into her bag, she grabbed a handful of leaves. Then she shouted at the top of her voice, “Sun and moon and stars so bright, light my way, now banish night.” She threw the leaves in the air and they burst into a dozen floating col- oured candles, flooding the space with welcome light. The wicked broomstick was busily sweeping more spiders towards her. It laughed as it squawked, “Quickly my friends wrap her up. Don’t worry about the light it will soon fade. Get her now.” The spiders were afraid of Whizardy Witch’s candles, but they were more afraid of the horrible broomstick. They rushed at her. Whiz squealed in panic and ran to- wards the door. She pushed as hard as she could, but it would not open. The first of the candles went out. Slowly, each one extinguished until only one remained. “Help me broom,” she shouted frantically. Her own broomstick clattered against the locked door. It was no use; the wicked broomstick’s magic was too powerful. “Find another way in,” she pleaded. The wicked broomstick laughed as it dived down, knocking Whizardy Witch to the floor again. The army of spiders rushed at her once more. “Quickly broom!” Whizardy Witch screamed. She pulled herself to her feet and ran to the stairs, at the back of the room. Up the spiral steps she ran as the last candle plunged her back into complete darkness. The sound of hundreds of tiny scampering spider feet followed her. Ahead, a thin crack of light ap- peared in the roof. “If I can just get to there,” she croaked hopefully. Fighting her way through even thicker webs, that burned and tightened all over her body. She just managed to reach the source of the light. A stout board had broken loose. She pushed with all her might until it finally gave way. She clambered outside clinging desper- ately to a thin beam. The wicked broomstick swept a ball of spiders’ right at her face. In panic, Whizardy Witch let go and fell from the top of the windmill. Luckily, broomstick zoomed down and caught her just in time. She lowered her gently to the ground. “Thank you broom that was so hor- rible. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warning. Quick, let me keep that broomstick in there.” She used a very powerful magic spell, “Lion’s roar and crocodile bite, shut this door and seal it tight.” Bright red flashes of lightning melted the bolt and padlock on the door. “There,” she said. “Now you can stay locked up where you will not hurt anyone else.” Whizardy Witch pinned the notice back onto the door and scribbled an extra line. “Beware of the Broom.” Broomstick quivered and suggested she surround the windmill in a kind- behaviour spell to make the bad broomstick behave better in the future. Whiz thought for a moment then held five pink leaves in her hand and commanded, “With yummy sweets and Birthday Cake, your nasty streak will shrink and break!” A loud crack of thunder sent pink coloured petals raining down over the windmill and formed a thin mist that clung firmly. Broomstick jumped enthusiastically in approval. “That should make a difference,” said Whiz angrily. “Come on broom- stick, let’s go home. I’ve had enough adventures for one day.” *** And that is the story of Whizardy Witch and the Scary Windmill.