The Saturday witch had been angry at the hermit for many centuries. She didn't remember what the hermit had done to upset her, but every Saturday, the only day of the week when her magic was at its fullest, she flew to the witches' gathering and complained about the hermit to the other Saturday witches.
The witches of Monday, Tuesday, and the other days would have known nothing of Frosty-Eye Kate's anger if the area had not resounded with curses every time Kate saw the hermit.
The curses lasted for the whole week. Her magical power only reached Saturday, so Frosty Ivan really only suffered the spells on Saturdays, when the witch could access her magic. He had gotten used to the cursing, but every Saturday his skin was covered in ugly boils—and not just boils. Luckily, they all disappeared without a trace by Sunday, just at the moment when Kate lost her magical power again until the next Saturday.
But on Saturdays, from dawn until the evening star began to shine in the sky, Frosty-Eye Kate flew over the hermit's house on her broom, shrieking and yelling curses. The hedgehogs ran to the other clearing. The squirrels hid in their nests.
On this day, Frosty Ivan was indeed caught by the curse.
"Yawn seventy times!"
"Be covered in boils!"
"Give names to your fleas!"
"Have plate-eyes!"
Thus, Kate flew, loudly shouting her bad wishes over the hermit's house every single cursed Saturday. By evening, she still had not run out of bad wishes.
When the evening star shone brightly in the sky, finally there was silence in the clearing even on Saturday. Then Kate flew to the Saturday witches' weekly meeting to complain about the hermit to the other Saturday witches.
That was not enough for Frosty-Eye Kate. Every Wednesday she went to bother Grumpy Enciana, one of the Wednesday witches, to cast a spell on Frosty Ivan.
Enciana did this once, half-heartedly. That day, she gave the hermit such a huge nose that he had to stay in his house all day. His nose didn't fit through the window or the door.
After this incident, long before the story begins, the Wednesday witch visited Frosty Ivan to investigate the reason for the centuries-old grudge.
"Now get out of here, you ugly hag, or I'll take your broom, and…"
Grumpy Enciana didn't wait for the rest. She slammed the door on the hermit so hard that the clearing shook.
The truth was, the quarrel had happened so long ago that even Frosty Ivan no longer knew why the terrible dispute had started. How could he have told the witch that he didn't remember either? He didn't want to look as foolish as Frosty-Eye Kate. He just drove Grumpy Enciana away.
After the incident, Enciana constantly complained about the Saturday witch and the hermit at the Wednesday witches' meetings. She complained and complained until the Wednesday witches had enough. They sent her home from the very last meeting and held council without her.
Grumpy Enciana also didn't forget that the hermit had threatened to take her broom. That evening, when the Wednesday witches sent her home, she landed in front of Frosty Ivan's house and kicked the door hard in anger.
After the owl hooted twice, the Wednesday witches began their weekly council almost in complete peace, without Enciana.
Blackberry Betsy, who had led the meeting the previous week, was the first to approach the cauldron to throw in the object she had had enough of that week. Her broken comb landed in the cauldron. It had broken in the witch's tangled hair that week.
She hadn't gotten a new comb yet, so her hair was even messier than usual. She barely managed to press the witch's hat onto her head. Somehow she did, but she pulled, tugged, and yanked so hard that the brim of the hat tore. It was still better to appear at the witches' meeting in a torn hat than not at all. The hat was almost as important to the witches as their broom.
With slightly disheveled, slightly torn, terribly tangled hair, Blackberry Betsy muttered:
"Listen! I'd rather go a few centuries without a comb than keep hearing Frosty-Eye Kate, Frosty Ivan, and Grumpy Enciana quarrel."
Bubble-Bib Purple quickly stepped up beside her. That Wednesday night, she presided over the witches' meeting.
"Blackberry Betsy is right. I'd rather the cat take my broom than keep listening to their arguing."
Her broom flew up indignantly to make sure the cat didn't take it.
"Alright, okay, I exaggerated, but we must do something, today!"
Prickly Thistle Irma objected, but she was sent home.
After everyone had approached the cauldron and thrown in the items that had become useless that week, Bubble-Bib Purple called Hexy-Trixie. She was the best at curses.
The Wednesday witches put their heads together. The wood under the cauldron creaked, the potion bubbled and boiled, and the full moon hid behind a stray cloud.
The witches' eyes sparkled as they muttered curses.
"Frosty-Eye Kate! Frosty Ivan!"—Bubble-Bib Purple began at the meeting.
"And Grumpy Enciana!"—whispered Twisty Liddy.
The owl hooted twice, and Bubble-Bib Purple nodded. They were very tired of Enciana's terrible complaining.
"Frosty-Eye Kate! Frosty Ivan! Grumpy Enciana! We will bind you for a week! Until the next Wednesday witches' meeting, you shall not go beyond hearing distance, crawl, swim, or fly away from each other! The curse will lift faster if you remember why you quarreled and solve the problem!"
The wood under the cauldron creaked, the potion bubbled and boiled, the owl hooted twice. The full moon sank deeper behind the clouds.
The witches held each other's hands and circled the cauldron to the ancient rhythm known only to the Wednesday witches.
When the fire went out, the witches left the Mountain satisfied. Only Bubble-Bib Purple's broom rattled angrily. It shook all the way because of the cat being mentioned.