The night
was chilly as Angela drew her cloak around her more tightly. Another
fruitless day, she thought glumly.
Think of
it this way, came Chesterfield’s thought. Now we know exactly where to
not find the Chartreuse Hawthorn. The black cat sat proudly next to Angela.
Usually,
flowers bloom in the spring. Are we sure that it’s a real plant? She
scooted closer to the fire.
Of
course. Cassandra wouldn’t send us on a useless quest. Chesterfield settled
himself into Angela’s lap where he immediately began purring.
Angela petted
him absentmindedly while she thought about their problem. They needed the
flower to make an invisibility potion. Her teacher, Cassandra, said that it was
a magical flower found only in this area during winter. Angela and Chesterfield
had flown all over this hilly landscape on her broom, looking for the brightly
colored flowers. Two days had already passed. They had only one more day to
find it and fly back to Cassandra’s School for Witches.
Angela
already felt like she was behind everyone else. She had come to the school at
thirteen years old, when most of her classmates were only ten. She did not want
to fail in this task.
Chesterfield
interrupted Angela’s musings. Why not try to look for it at night? Maybe it
will be easier to see then.
Of
course! Why didn’t I think of that?
Because
you needed me to think of it for you. I’m the source of your magical power,
remember?
No, you
only help me control my power.
Whatever,
you still need me. Chesterfield purred even louder.
Angela felt
a wave of affection for her cat. In the years since she had known him, they had
become exceptionally close, just as a witch and her cat should be. All
right, let’s do this, she thought resolutely. She stood as Chesterfield
bounded off her lap.
It only
took a minute for Angela to pack up her small campsite—being a witch with
magical powers had a great many uses. In no time, she and Chesterfield sat
astride her broomstick, flying low over the hillside, looking for the elusive
yellow-green flower. They searched for hours, and Angela started to think that
this was a waste of time. Her hands were nearly frozen, and her back ached.
She was
just about to suggest that they give up and get some rest when Chesterfield
shouted, Look! Over there! He held his paw off to the right of the
broomstick, and Angela turned to investigate.
Once she
saw the flowers, she couldn’t believe that she had missed them before. They
were glowing. The hawthorn bush was covered with the vibrant flowers and
made it look like a beacon.
Well,
that was easy. Chesterfield sprang to the ground as Angela went to collect
the flowers. He stretched luxuriously and lay down on the rocky hillside.
Easy for
you to say. Angela put the flowers in her special collecting sack that
would keep them fresh. I’m ready for a nice, warm bed. Are you ready?
She hopped back on her broom and Chesterfield settled himself behind her.
As they
flew back to school, Angela was relieved and happy that they had accomplished
their task. When they reached their destination, Chesterfield climbed onto her
shoulders and wrapped himself around her neck. Here’s a nice, warm bed,
he said as he started purring.
Smiling,
Angela replied, Glad I could be of service to you. This was the best
part of being a witch—always having your best friend with you.
