A Hat Full Of Sky - Terry Pratchett [54]
“That’s because there’s often very rare ingredients, like the tears of some rare snake or something,” said Annagramma.
“I didn’t know snakes cried,” said Tiffany.
“Don’t they? Oh, well, I expect that’s why it’s expensive.”
There was plenty of other stuff. Shambles hung from the ceiling, much prettier and more interesting than the working ones that Tiffany had seen. Since they were made up complete, then surely they were dead, just like the ones Miss Level kept for ornamentation. But they looked good—and looking was important.
There were even stones for looking into.
“Crystal balls,” said Annagramma as Tiffany picked one up. “Careful! They’re very expensive!” She pointed to a sign, which had been placed thoughtfully among the glittering globes. It said:
LOVELY TO LOOK AT
NICE TO HOLD
IF YOU DROP IT
YOU GET TORN APART BY WILD HORSES
Tiffany held the biggest one in her hand and saw how Mr. Stronginthearm moved slightly away from his counter, ready to rush forward with a bill if she dropped it.
“Miss Tick uses a saucer of water with a bit of ink poured into it,” she said. “And she usually borrows the water and cadges the ink, at that.”
“Oh, a fundamentalist,” said Annagramma. “Letice—that’s Mrs. Earwig—says they let us down terribly. Do we really want people to think witches are just a bunch of mad old women who look like crows? That’s so gingerbread-cottagey! We really ought to be professional about these things.”
“Hmm,” said Tiffany, throwing the crystal ball up into the air and catching it again with one hand. “People should be made to fear witches.”
“Well, er, certainly they should respect us,” said Annagramma. “Um…I should be careful with that, if I was you….”
“Why?” said Tiffany, tossing the ball over her shoulder.
“That was finest quartz!” shouted Zakzak, rushing around his counter.
“Oh, Tiffany,” said Annagramma, shocked and trying not to giggle.
Zakzak rushed past them to where the shattered ball lay in hundreds of very expensive fragmen—
—did not lie in very expensive fragments.
Both he and Annagramma turned to Tiffany.
She was spinning the crystal globe on the tip of her finger.
“Quickness of the hand deceives the eye,” she said.
“But I heard it smash!” said Zakzak.
“Deceives the ear, too,” said Tiffany, putting the ball back on its stand. “I don’t want this, but”—and she pointed a finger—“I’ll take that necklace and that one and the one with the cats and that ring and a set of those and two, no, three of those and—what are these?”
“Um, that’s a Book of Night,” said Annagramma nervously. “It’s a sort of magical diary. You write down what you’ve been working on….”
Tiffany picked up the leather-bound book. It had an eye set in heavier leather on the cover. The eye rolled to look at her. This was a real witch’s diary, and much more impressive than some shamefully cheap old book bought off a peddler.
“Whose eye was it?” said Tiffany. “Anyone interesting?”
“Er, I get the books from the wizards at Unseen University,” said Zakzak, still shaken. “They’re not real eyes, but they’re clever enough to swivel around until they see another eye.”
“It just blinked,” said Tiffany.
“Very clever people, wizards,” said the dwarf, who knew a sale when he saw one. “Shall I wrap it up for you?”
“Yes,” said Tiffany. “Wrap everything up. And now can anyone hear me? show me the clothes department…”
…where there were hats. There are fashions in witchery, just like everything else. Some years the slightly concertina’d look is in, and you’ll even see the point twisting around so much it’s nearly pointing at the ground. There are varieties even in the most traditional hat (Upright Cone, Black), such as the Countrywoman (inside pockets, waterproof), the Cloudbuster (low-drag coefficient for broomstick use), and, quite importantly, the Safety (guaranteed to survive 80 percent of falling farmhouses).
Tiffany chose the tallest upright cone. It was more than two feet high and had big stars sewn on it.
“Ah, the Sky Scraper. Very much your look,” said Zakzak, bustling