Chapter 24

Finding the castle turns out to be easy, perhaps the easiest thing Penelope has had to do since this journey began. As big as it is, reaching high into the sky, it could easily found if not for the spell placed over it. It wasn’t until she stepped through the barrier that it appeared. It was not there one moment and then there the next. She felt the stirrings of the magic and it made her remember one of the lessons in class.

“I know what the riddle means now,” she says, standing outside the massive doors.

Do you now?

“Yes. Only a witch or wizard can see this.”

Well, there are other magic users, like those that use natural magic.

“You know what I mean,” she says with a grin.

How do you manage to forget these things?

“I don’t know,” the witch says with a shrug. “Maybe I don’t think it’s very important and so I don’t remember.”

You know, everything you learn is important.

“You’re right,” the girl admits. “But it’s just so hard to remember after class is over.”

The other students don’t seem to have a problem.

“That’s because they don’t have a hard dick in them after class either.”

That could make a difference. What about your classes with the witch professors?

“Oh, those? I have no problem remembering them.”

You should try one of them, you may like it better.

“I did, and this is what happened,” she says, frowning.

All you had to do was ask and I would have done it.

“Had I known you could talk, I would have.”

There is a lot you don’t know about me.

“I know,” Penelope says. “And you won’t tell me anything.”

That’s because you don’t ask.

“I do.”

When?”

“All the time.”

When?

“Like when I asked if you were a lesbian.”

You’re not asking the right questions.

“I wasn’t aware that there were wrong ones.”

Oh yeah, there are wrong ones.

“So?”

So what?

“Are you going to tell me some of your secrets?”

They’re not secrets.

“Then what are they?”

Things I want to keep private.

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

No.

“Even if I ask the right questions?”

No.

“Then what’s the point is telling me to ask the right question if you’re not going to tell me anything?”

Because it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“Right...” Penelope shakes her head. “Just when I thought we were starting to get along.

We are. Let’s keep it that way.

“So you consider us friends?”

Do I have a choice?

“Sure, you have a choice,” the witch says irritated. “I’m not holding you prisoner.”

You kind of are.

“That’s not my fault...” the girl shakes her head. “Let’s forget I said that. “We’re stuck in the same body, I have no choice in the matter.”

No, but I am your familiar.

“How is that my fault?” she asks. “The school gave me a choice and I picked you.”

True. The rules of magic are binding. I guess it’s just luck of the draw.

“That doesn’t sound nice.”

Take as you will.

“Should I have picked something else?”

I don’t think it would have mattered.

“What do you mean?” she asks, curious.

Call it fate or tampering with fate. Before I often wondered why I got stuck with a bungling, sex craved idiot. But now I think I know why.

Penelope grimaces. “Why?”

That’s not important right now.

“And what’s more important than me knowing the truth?”

And what’s truth?

“You know where...”

No, what’s important is getting inside this castle and getting that book to reverse this. Maybe afterward I can explain things better.

“Alright, I’ll ... hey, wait a minute,” she says about to knock on the heavy door before stopping herself. “You couldn’t talk before. How will you explain anything?”

Good question. I’m surprised you caught that.

“So you were purposely trying to not tell me anything?”

I didn’t say that. At the very least you have questions and curiosity. You can always go to the headmistress and ask those questions.

“What makes you think she’ll tell me anything?”

She’s like a mother to you. She adopted you and raised you. You know, they really should start teaching you as children instead of waiting until you’re adults.

“It’s too dangerous with our powers being too uncontrollable,” the witch explains. “Besides, many of us lose that power when we reach adult hood.”

It’s a shame then that so much of your life is wasted.

“It would be if we didn’t live longer than the average person.”

Well, I guess that’s true then. Shall we?

“Shall we what?”

Knock.

“Oh, right.” The girl smiles and knocks on the door.

A loud echo is heard reverberating inside. A moment later one of the two doors cracks open, and then pull wider. In the doorway is not the high wizard, but a giant made of clay. “May I help you?” it asks in a booming voice.

“A golem?” Penelope whispers.

That’s what it looks like to me.

“I serve High Wizard Starkey,” he says. “He is my creator and I his servant.”

Living alone in this place, I’m surprised he didn’t make a female golem.

“He goes into town and gets him some from the barmaid, remember?”

Oh yeah.

“What is it you wish from the high wizard?” the golem asks.

“I hope he at least gave you a name.”

What does that matter?

“I’d like to call him something,” the witch says with a shrug. “Plus, I don’t want to offend him.”

“God,” he answers.

God?

“Like a certain one?”

“No, just God,” he answers.

“Alright, God,” the girl says. “I am here to see the high wizard because I believe he has a book that can undo the spell that I sort of cast on myself.” The golem looks her over and starts to laugh. “What do you find so funny?”

“You are clearly a witch or you would not be able to find this place,” he answers. “But you are not a very smart one.”

Can’t disagree there.

“And you find that funny?”

Yes.

“Not you.”

Oh.

“I do,” God answers.

Penelope smiles at him. This creature standing before her is the perfect example of what most would see as perfect. He is well built and strikingly handsome—complete opposite of what she looks for—with just one flaw ... She begins to laugh when her eyes drop down below his waist to his crotch.

“What do you find that is so funny?” he asks.

“I may have goofed up, but at least I have all the parts I need.”

He’s a golem that obviously doesn’t need to serve his master like that. Of course he doesn’t have one.

“And what parts would I need?” he asks.

“How about a dick?” she suggests, still giggling.

“One of those would only be needed should one need to seek audience with the high wizard.”

“So because you don’t have one, I can’t go see him?” she asks, her giggling fading away quickly.