Witch adventures, or how Sita hunted the director Ekaterina Bogdanova

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Title: Witches' Adventures, or How Sita Hunted the Director
Author:
Year: 2015
Genre: Heroic Fantasy, Wizard Books, Love Fantasy, Humorous Fantasy

About the book "Witch's Adventures, or How Sita Hunted the Director" Ekaterina Bogdanova

“Who is easy now? Yes, everyone compared to me!” - so thought the young witch Kumparsita, having not voluntarily ended up in a magical school in the village of Veduny.

Now all the inhabitants of the Veduns think so!

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Ekaterina Bogdanova

WITCH ADVENTURES, OR HOW SITA HUNTERED THE DIRECTOR

Everything, Paraska! My patience has run out, you will go to Veduny to study! - Granny propped up her skinny sides with her fists and made a terrible face. Well, she thinks it's terrible. And personally, I would be funny if she did not call me that.

Booze, don't busie, huh? And don't call me Paraska! It infuriates me! I am Sita! As a last resort - Kumparsita, thanks to daddy, rrr ...

In confirmation of my righteous anger, the dishwasher turned on unintentionally and the water faucet opened.

Here! This is what we are talking about, - the busya continued to rage.

My grandmother is kind, but she is a witch. As there is a witch, that in essence, that by vocation. One thing is bad, not a simple witch, but a hereditary one. That's what I got from the bounty. I'm offspring, which means I'm also a witch. Mom acted wisely - she went to a better world and now only occasionally comes to visit, and here I am at war with the beads. You see, she doesn't want me to remain an ignoramus and sacrifice my great gift to the industrial culture of our non-magical world. But I don't need this gift at all. I was able to get into RUDN for free, and now whoever picks me out of there, here! And Busya got along with her sharaga. She studied there herself, so what? A three-ruble note in a residential area, spoiled from constant communication with crazy psychos turned on magic, and a minimum pension. Beauty-ah! Well, sometimes I can’t restrain myself sometimes, I break something by accident or scare someone. So granny will clean up her memory, and that's it. And then you rested - you go to the Veduns, and that's it.

We stand with busses in the middle of the kitchen with the look of “our proud Varyag does not surrender to the enemy” and butt heads. From butting distracted mobile phone, yelling throughout the kitchen: "Oh my God, what a man ...". Yeah, Max is a guy anywhere, one thing is bad - he knows about it.

Bus, five seconds, I will answer, and we will continue to play the Cossack robbers, - and into the phone: - I will ...

Ah-ah!!! - she screamed, jumping around the kitchen and kissing her granny. - I'm in the subject! I'll be in the box! Bus, let's fight later, okay? I now desperately need to grind about the dress.

Ugh, that's disgusting to listen to. Well, nothing, in the Veduns you will be taught to express yourself correctly.

Yeah, they’ll teach me, - I agree with the bus, not really listening to what she’s muttering about, and I’m looking for Rita Zvelner’s number on the phone, she boasted that her papander from Paris had secured a pile of model clothes. And we have almost the same physique, so Ritulka got it.

So do you agree? - bends his busya line.

Yes, - I answered the mobile, waved my hand to my granny, they say, then we will finish, and went to the balcony to spud Rita.

Rita gave in after I reminded her of where she allegedly sleeps when she raids clubs. And, inspired by the anticipation of her triumph, she fell into the bath, after whipping the foam with her eyes. I overdid it, however, I had to wash off the excess in the sink.

I turned on my favorite selection of foreigners, put on my headphones and started to get high. And, as always, I fell asleep somewhere on the third song.

PART ONE

Do not be born ... in general, do not be born, but if you were born - suffer!

Girl, girl. Wake up, we've arrived, - someone persistently shook my shoulder.

Bus, I'll lie around a little more, - I muttered and sharply opened my eyes. - What the... Who are you?

In front of me stood a healthy woman with a tattered bag hanging on her shoulder, from which the edge of a strip of tear-off coupons stuck out. I looked around. I was sitting in an old, dirty bus, on the seat next to me was my travel bag with a proud Nike badge, purchased in the Chinese market, and there was no one else on the bus.

We've arrived, I say. Ultimate. Get out, it's time for us to the base.

Look around again and see!

Well, grandma! You still dance with me!

Busya did send me to her sharaga.

Get out, brat! - the aunt was indignant. - I'll show you granny!

I jumped up and ran to the exit. Who knew that this immense aunt would take my words personally. She fell out of the bus and drowned in new crosses in a five-centimeter layer of road dust. And she almost touched the dust with her nose when a bag thrown after her was hit on her back. The door closed and the bus drove off in an unknown direction.

So, where did it take me? I looked around and realized that I was in the forest. The road was narrow and bumpy, in front of me was a rickety stop visor, the inscription on which read: "Dutch village ... eduny." Where the letter "B" had been, there was a rusty hole. Here I got! And where are these eaters? She turned her head and noticed two ruts leading deep into the forest. She picked up her bag, shook off the dust, sneezed a couple of times and stomped towards trouble.

Trouble was not far away, right around the corner. A rickety unpainted wooden fence, a gate, also not the first freshness, and “Veduny” written with dirty yellow paint right on them. Even though all the letters are in place. Cheerfully approached the architectural fossil and pushed open the doors. Yep, dreaming! The gates were locked. She beat on the plaintively creaking boards, shouted all sorts of nonsense like “Open it, otherwise I’ll go in myself” or “People-and-and, where are you? I'm a witch, let me in please." No one was imbued with either threats or pleas, and the mosquitoes had already thoroughly bitten everything they could get to.

Ah, so then? I got angry. - Who needs you? Now I will go out on a normal road and stop someone. Hide behind the gate! Yes, to break them! - kicked the curved sash and turned away.

And behind him there was a crack, very reminiscent of breaking boards. Slowly turned around and saw ... Kranty me!

I sat in the usual, no different from the other teaching staff. And these same teachers, in the amount of seven pieces, were staring at me, as if at the eighth wonder of the world, and were waiting for something. We waited. A disheveled, out of breath aunt flew into the office with a piece of paper in her hand.

Here's the fax. Uh, let me breathe. From above, the order to the director came, and he was covered with another sheet, I did not notice.

I sat in the usual, no different from the other teaching staff. And these same teachers, in the amount of seven pieces, were staring at me, as if at the eighth wonder of the world, and were waiting for something. We waited. A disheveled, out of breath aunt flew into the office with a piece of paper in her hand.

Here's the fax. Uh, let me breathe. From above, the order to the director came, and he was covered with another sheet, I did not notice.

The most decrepit of the old men present here extended his hand, and the secretary gave him her find. Grandpa, who, apparently, was the same age as the gate I had blown to pieces, put on glasses with thick lenses on his nose and began to study the paperwork. It didn’t work out very well for him, his hands shook, and the sheet fluttered like a sheet in the wind. Everyone was silent, looking expectantly at the old man. He chewed his lips, laid the paper on the table, and said in a raspy, weak voice:

You see, Kumparsita, I have been retired for a month now and have no right to either accept you for training or expel you. Grandma sent a request? - I nodded. - So, your grandmother made a request correctly, I'll let you go, you're going to act like a hooligan somewhere, and then answer me? When a new director arrives, he will decide. In the meantime, baby, live here, get used to it. Look, you still don't want to leave.

And when will this new director of yours arrive? - she asked with displeasure, already guessing that my granny had signed me up for compulsory education because of a threat to society. Here you are! Now I have to cuckoo here for at least a semester, because not a single director with such a wording of the statement will immediately let me go. First, he will take a closer look, make sure that I am not dangerous to others and will not declassify the existence of the magworld, and only then, maybe, they will send me home with a certificate of social suitability. In short, bad luck is complete!

So he, the new director, was supposed to arrive last week, but he was delayed. I called and warned that by the beginning of the school year it would definitely be, - the secretary answered my question.

Yeah, what's our date today? I took out my mobile phone, of course there is no connection, only emergency. Call nine-one-one, right? Maybe they will take me away from here if I say that these people have kidnapped me? And today is the twenty-fifth of August.

Where are the students? It's deaf in here, like in a tank.

So in a couple of days they will begin to arrive, - the same secretary threw up her hands.

And the teachers sit, look at me with round eyes and are silent.

Let's go, I'll place you in a hostel. Where is she, Fyodor Genrikhovich, on the Vedic? - she asked the former bosses.

I don’t even know, after the gate, - Genrikhovich spread his hands. - Sat down until the witches. Then you'll figure it out.

I picked up a dusty bag and stomped after the active aunt. At least someone here is up to par. We left the only one-story building in the "dacha village", well, except for outbuildings, and went to three five-story buildings standing in the outskirts.

This is a dormitory for witches, - the secretary pointed to one of the buildings.

And the rest? - I was really surprised. This is a Vedic school, which means that all the witches are here.

That's for kineticists, - the aunt pointed to a neighboring house. - And this, - she pointed at the most terrible, shabby and moldy five-story building, - the seers populate. You better not go there and pay no attention to their chatter.

So, besides the sorcerers, does anyone else study here?

And what kind of animals are still found here? Where has busya taken me? But I just thought that, I didn’t want to offend the only normal person among the “summer residents”.

Certainly! - proudly declared the secretary. - Kinetic course is those who have telekinesis, pyrokinesis and other weak magical talents. And the seers are those who see the ghosts, the future and the past.

My aunt fell silent and stared at me, apparently expecting puppyish delight at the advancement of their sharaga.

What is your name? - I asked to know who to strain if something is needed. It is still unknown what my grandmother stuffed into my bag.

The secretary, in my opinion, was offended that I was not imbued with the vastness of the specializations of this educational institution, and muttered displeasedly:

Irina Alekseevna I.

Great. And you can call me Sita.

Come in, Kumparsita, - Alekseevna declared vindictively, opening an iron door in front of me with a completely demolished combination lock.

I was driven to the fifth floor, as they say, only the stars are higher. Oh, my "Golden Gramophone" cried.

As long as you're alone, you'll see. Maybe we’ll hook someone up, ”said Irina Alekseevna, giving me the key to a room with two bunk beds, an old refrigerator, a wobbly table and four chairs, two of which were rickety.

And I want to eat! - I remembered the urgent.

The dining room is not open yet, you will eat with us. Come to the teacher's room at seven o'clock.

Everything, Paraska! My patience has run out, you will go to Veduny to study! - Granny propped up her skinny sides with her fists and made a terrible face. Well, she thinks it's terrible. And personally, I would be funny if she did not call me that.

Booze, don't busie, huh? And don't call me Paraska! It infuriates me! I am Sita! As a last resort - Kumparsita, thanks to daddy, rrr ...

In confirmation of my righteous anger, the dishwasher turned on unintentionally and the water faucet opened.

Here! This is what we are talking about, - the busya continued to rage.

My grandmother is kind, but she is a witch. As there is a witch, that in essence, that by vocation. One thing is bad, not a simple witch, but a hereditary one. That's what I got from the bounty. I'm offspring, which means I'm also a witch. Mom acted wisely - she went to a better world and now only occasionally comes to visit, and here I am at war with the beads. You see, she doesn't want me to remain an ignoramus and sacrifice my great gift to the industrial culture of our non-magical world. But I don't need this gift at all. I was able to get into RUDN for free, and now whoever picks me out of there, here! And Busya got along with her sharaga. She studied there herself, so what? A three-ruble note in a residential area, spoiled from constant communication with crazy psychos turned on magic, and a minimum pension. Beauty-ah! Well, sometimes I can’t restrain myself sometimes, I break something by accident or scare someone. So granny will clean up her memory, and that's it. And then you rested - you go to the Veduns, and that's it.

We stand with busses in the middle of the kitchen with the look of “our proud Varyag does not surrender to the enemy” and butt heads. From butting distracted mobile phone, yelling throughout the kitchen: "Oh my God, what a man ...". Yeah, Max is a guy anywhere, one thing is bad - he knows about it.

Bus, five seconds, I will answer, and we will continue to play the Cossack robbers, - and into the phone: - I will ...

Ah-ah!!! - she screamed, jumping around the kitchen and kissing her granny. - I'm in the subject! I'll be in the box! Bus, let's fight later, okay? I now desperately need to grind about the dress.

Ugh, that's disgusting to listen to. Well, nothing, in the Veduns you will be taught to express yourself correctly.

Yeah, they’ll teach me, - I agree with the bus, not really listening to what she’s muttering about, and I’m looking for Rita Zvelner’s number on the phone, she boasted that her papander from Paris had secured a pile of model clothes. And we have almost the same physique, so Ritulka got it.

So do you agree? - bends his busya line.

Yes, - I answered the mobile, waved my hand to my granny, they say, then we will finish, and went to the balcony to spud Rita.

Rita gave in after I reminded her of where she allegedly sleeps when she raids clubs. And, inspired by the anticipation of her triumph, she fell into the bath, after whipping the foam with her eyes. I overdid it, however, I had to wash off the excess in the sink.

I turned on my favorite selection of foreigners, put on my headphones and started to get high. And, as always, I fell asleep somewhere on the third song.

PART ONE
Do not be born ... in general, do not be born, but if you were born - suffer!

Girl, girl. Wake up, we've arrived, - someone persistently shook my shoulder.

Bus, I'll lie around a little more, - I muttered and sharply opened my eyes. - What the... Who are you?

In front of me stood a healthy woman with a tattered bag hanging on her shoulder, from which the edge of a strip of tear-off coupons stuck out. I looked around. I was sitting in an old, dirty bus, on the seat next to me was my travel bag with a proud Nike badge, purchased in the Chinese market, and there was no one else on the bus.

We've arrived, I say. Ultimate. Get out, it's time for us to the base.

Look around again and see!

Well, grandma! You still dance with me!

Busya did send me to her sharaga.

Get out, brat! - the aunt was indignant. - I'll show you granny!

I jumped up and ran to the exit. Who knew that this immense aunt would take my words personally. She fell out of the bus and drowned in new crosses in a five-centimeter layer of road dust. And she almost touched the dust with her nose when a bag thrown after her was hit on her back. The door closed and the bus drove off in an unknown direction.

So, where did it take me? I looked around and realized that I was in the forest. The road was narrow and bumpy, in front of me was a rickety stop visor, the inscription on which read: "Dutch village ... eduny." Where the letter "B" had been, there was a rusty hole. Here I got! And where are these eaters? She turned her head and noticed two ruts leading deep into the forest. She picked up her bag, shook off the dust, sneezed a couple of times and stomped towards trouble.

Trouble was not far away, right around the corner. A rickety unpainted wooden fence, a gate, also not the first freshness, and “Veduny” written with dirty yellow paint right on them. Even though all the letters are in place. Cheerfully approached the architectural fossil and pushed open the doors. Yep, dreaming! The gates were locked. She beat on the plaintively creaking boards, shouted all sorts of nonsense like “Open it, otherwise I’ll go in myself” or “People-and-and, where are you? I'm a witch, let me in please." No one was imbued with either threats or pleas, and the mosquitoes had already thoroughly bitten everything they could get to.

Ah, so then? I got angry. - Who needs you? Now I will go out on a normal road and stop someone. Hide behind the gate! Yes, to break them! - kicked the curved sash and turned away.