(complete) Sex, intrigues, lies - the Game is like normal politics, just that now people lose their brain over it. Macbeth meets House of Cards and Game of Thrones in a fantastic ride to the Brexit referendum battled out in the reality TV show envir...
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Even Hel had to blink to assure that her senses were still working properly. It had been a long time since witches had been a force to be reckoned with, and it had been easy to forget the things they once could do. More than the fact that the three had vanished however, surprised Hel their timing.
Nothing she had heard pointed to the fact that the witches had accomplished what they had come for. They had greeted Boris and Michael, they had evaded their questions, they had told them what people like them liked to hear – nothing of this had felt like a magical act. Not even in the figurative sense, since she had to side with the Professor: Nigel was no Shakespeare.
And yet, the glimpse of their faces that Hel had caught shortly before they had vanished, had spoken of satisfaction.
Hel reined her thoughts in. The witches had left, but Boris and Michael were still there. She was curious how the two reacted to the meeting now that they were alone again. If they had been bewitched, maybe a change in their behavior would show. It might give her a clue as to what the witches had done. So far Boris and Michael stood wide eyed and their mouths hanging open.
"Where the hell have they gone to?" Hel had to admit that Michael's question was an interesting one, though he had clearly addressed it to the wrong person. She had no hand in this.
Boris seized the air in front of him as if he hoped to touch something he could not see. Then his arms flapped at his side, his face full of sorry. "They vanished into thin air as if their presence had been nothing more than an illusion. I wish they had stayed. I had so many questions."
"Stayed?" Michael asked with a little tremble in his voice. He rubbed with his hands over his face and returned to scratching at the dirt spot behind his ear like he'd never been interrupted. "How do we know they have even been here? I mean, maybe the mud we bathed in had been toxic and took our mind with it down the drain in the shower. Actually, being left brainless might be favorable to facing a world with witches in it that can simply vanish into thin air." He threw his arm around Boris' shoulders and leaned in to his ear. "Imagine what else they might be capable of."
"Predicting the future?" Boris played with the bracelets around his wrist. Their present was still unused to him. "You will make team leaders, far more powerful team leaders as we have known so far."
Michael chuckled into Boris' shoulder. "Yes, and you will be such a team leader."
"And a Chair in the National Council of the Game first," Boris beamed. "Isn't that what they said?"
"That have been their words exactly." Michael marked each of his words with a thud of his fist to Boris' chest. He was roaring. Boris chimed in after a moment, not quite as heartily as Michael, but Michael didn't seem to notice. He rubbed his cheeks, now damp with tears. "Oh, this is even better than being granted a peek into the Mirror of Erised. A shared hallucination. Now I know your deepest desires and you know mine. How they deliciously play with our fears in the Game, even after the tasks are done!"
