Toadmila Wartly: Book 2: Toadmila Wartly, #2

By Diana Parparita

Toadmila has just settled into her new life in Grimwood Forest. But an unexpected visitor is about to change everything and drag her into war. With the help of her new familiars and of an old classmate, Toadmila must now face a powerful, battle-trained wizard, and save the entire country... or at least get out of this alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diana Parparita
• Release date: Sep 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201915469

Diana Parparita

Diana Parparita writes fantasy and science fiction. Her short stories have been published in a number of magazines and anthologies, including Mad Scientist Journal, The Great Tome of Fantastic and Wondrous Places, Strange Economics and Avast, Ye Airships!

Book preview

1. It Neednʼt Be Dilapidated

Mrs. Gwendolyn Lowerbanks from Shock and Accommodation, was not accustomed to working outside the Office. Sunshine made her sneeze, and the buzzing of little creatures returning to life in spring, made her skin crawl. But it was her duty to ensure that all witches placed by the Giver were well-adjusted to their given assignment, and it seemed that a certain Toadmila Wartly, placed in Grimwood Forest only a few months earlier, had not quite managed to adapt. Gwendolyn shuddered as she passed by a dead tree crawling with ants, and she realized that she too would have had some difficulties in adapting to this sort of life. But that was hardly the point. Gwendolyn had adapted to her given place at the Office. It was Miss Wartly who had to be reminded that when one was given an assignment, it was usually for life, however harsh a life that might be.

Gwendolyn passed through rows of dead trees covered in spiderwebs, nodding in approval of such appropriate decorations for the dilapidated building that was supposed to house the local witch. Then, suddenly, the path among the dead trees widened, and Gwendolyn reached a clearing, carpeted with tall grass and cheerful dandelions. And at the center of the clearing, there was a house, made of stone, with large windows framed by opened wooden shutters painted in bright green and overlooking a garden of blossoming jasmine, lilac, and a magnolia tree. The house, impressive in size, was completed by a tall roof, boldly painted in bright green, and a wooden sign just outside the front door, which read, in bold letters, The Dilapidated Hut.

Gwendolyn gasped and nearly fainted at the outrageous transformations of Toadmilaʼs assigned lodgings. Things were worse than the Office had foreseen, it seemed. Gwendolyn marched across the flower garden and knocked vigorously on the front door with the handle of her broom.

The view inside the house, when the door opened on its own, was just as troubling. The stone floor was covered in thick carpets of woven grass, magically transformed into soft, silky threads of a cheerful green. A stone table and two chairs stood in the middle of the room, and a cheerful green fire – of the smokeless variety – danced in the hearth. On the walls, shelves filled with jars of potions and potion ingredients, were the only thing that Gwendolyn found she could approve of. And, of course, she could approve of the appearance of the witch herself, Toadmila Wartly, with her hooked nose and sharp chin and gray hair in spite of her young age of only eighteen – or perhaps nineteen, one could never know for sure with foundlings – who was still, thankfully, wearing her standard uniform.

Miss Wartly! Gwendolyn began, trying to sound as official as possible. What is this nonsense? Where is the dilapidated hut you were assigned to?

It got burned down, Toadmila answered with a shrug,  so Iʼve rebuilt it. You said it neednʼt be dilapidated.

Well, no, it neednʼt be, Gwendolyn admitted. "But it must look dilapidated to the villagers. The villagers must be made to think that this is a dilapidated hut."

"Well, it says it is, on the sign by the door," Toadmila pointed out.

Villagers canʼt read! Gwendolyn huffed. They have no schools and no money for schooling. They start working in the fields as soon as they can walk, and if they need to read or to write anything, they ask the local priest to do it for them.

Toadmila shrugged.

Itʼs their problem if they canʼt read, she said. Masking enchantments are a waste of energy. Iʼve been getting more customers now that the place looks nicer, and I donʼt intend to lose them just because I was assigned to a place called the Dilapidated Hut.

Weʼll just have to see what the Office says when they hear you havenʼt adapted, Gwendolyn threatened, shaking a finger at Toadmila.

I have adapted, Toadmila answered. "I have adapted this place to my needs. Would you like some tea, Gwendolyn? You look like you could use it."

Gwendolyn was just about to refuse, but she found a cup pressed against her lips, and the warm magic tea flowed down her throat before she could say a word. And, suddenly, she felt a pleasant warmth envelop her like a soft blanket.

"Well, the place is nice, she said, taking the cup of tea into her hands. She took a long, satisfying sip, analyzing the pleasant aroma. Very nice indeed."

I hope you like your tea, Toadmila said with a smile, one of her practiced, professional smiles. Iʼve added a touch of chamomile to your recipe.

"Very, very nice," Gwendolyn said, fully absorbed in her tea, which, she found with some regret, did not come out of a self-filling cup.

And I hope you will agree that this is better, Toadmila added.

Much better, Gwendolyn agreed.

You will inform the Office that it is better, Toadmila added.

Of course, Gwendolyn said, finishing her tea. You have adapted splendidly. In your own way, but you have adapted.

2. Of Old Acquaintances

There is another reason why Iʼm here, Gwendolyn said, setting aside the empty cup. Her placid smile did not fade, but the words were cutting. You have destroyed a spirit of this forest, without prior authorization. As the witch assigned to Grimwood Forest, you must know it is your duty to assist and protect all things belonging to the forest. That includes ghosts.

Rosalba was attacking the villagers, Toadmila answered. And Iʼd like to know why I wasnʼt informed of her presence when I was assigned to this place.

Gwendolyn sighed.

We were afraid youʼd run away, she said. Sheʼd already killed at least one witch, the one we placed here two years ago. The one from last year disappeared without a trace. Sheʼs either been killed, or she has found a very clever way to defect. We thought you might do the same.

There is only one way for a witch to disappear without a trace, Toadmila said stiffly, and thatʼs to stop using magic. Do you think that after so many years of studying, after so many years of being the best at every subject taught at the Academy, do you think that I could just give it all up and run?

We had to take every precaution, Gwendolyn answered. "But I