A Hat Full Of Sky - Terry Pratchett [93]
A FAIRLY IMPORTANT ONE, I’M SORRY TO SAY. YOU WILL HAVE TO SEE YOURSELVES OUT. DO NOT FALL ASLEEP HERE. SLEEP HERE NEVER ENDS.
Death vanished. Rob Anybody dropped to the sand and came up ready to fight, but they were alone.
“Ye’ll have to make a door oout,” he said.
“I don’t know how! Rob, I told you not to come with me. Can’t you get out?”
“Aye. Probably. But I’ve got to see ye safe. The kelda put a geas on me. I must save the hag o’ the hills.”
“Jeannie told you that?”
“Aye. She was verra definite,” said Rob Anybody.
Tiffany slumped down onto the sand again. It fountained up around her.
“I’ll never get out,” she said. How to get in, yes, that wasn’t hard….
She looked around. They weren’t obvious, but there were occasional changes in the light, and little puffs of dust.
People she couldn’t see were walking past her. People were crossing the desert. Dead people, going to find out what was beyond the mountains…
I’m eleven, she thought. People will be upset. She thought about the farm, and how her mother and father would react. But there wouldn’t be a body, would there? So people would hope and hope that she’d come back and was just…missing, like old Mrs. Happens in the village, who lit a candle in the window every night for her son who’d been lost at sea thirty years ago.
She wondered if Rob could send a message—but what could she say? “I’m not dead, I’m just stuck”?
“I should have thought of other people,” she said aloud.
“Aye, weel, ye did,” said Rob, sitting down by her foot. “Yon Arthur went off happy, and ye saved other folk fra’ being killed. Ye did what ye had to do.”
Yes, thought Tiffany. That’s what we have to do. And there’s no one to protect you, because you’re the one who’s supposed to do that sort of thing.
But her Second Thoughts said: I’m glad I did it. I’d do it again. I stopped the hiver killing anyone else, even though we led it right into the Trials. And that thought was followed by a space. There should have been another thought, but she was too tired to have it. It had been important.
“Thank you for coming, Rob,” she said. “But when…you can leave, you must go straight back to Jeannie, understand? And tell her I’m grateful she sent you. Say I wish we’d had a chance to get to know each other better.”
“Oh, aye. I’ve sent the lads back anyway. Hamish is waitin’ for me.”
At which point the door appeared, and opened.
Granny Weatherwax stepped through and beckoned urgently.
“Some people don’t have the sense they were born with! Come on, right now!” she commanded. Behind her the door started to swing shut, but she swung around savagely and rammed her boot against the jamb, shouting, “Oh, no you don’t, you sly devil!”
“But…I thought there were rules!” said Tiffany, getting up and hurrying forward, all tiredness sudden gone. Even a tired body wants to survive.
“Oh? Really?” said Granny. “Did you sign anything? Did you take any kind of oath? No? Then they weren’t your rules! Quickly, now! And you, Mr. Anyone!”
Rob Anybody jumped onto her boot just before she pulled it away. The door shut with another click, disappeared, and left them in…dead light, it seemed, a space of gray air.
“Won’t take long,” said Granny Weatherwax. “It doesn’t usually. It’s the world getting back into line. Oh, don’t look like that. You showed it the Way, right? Out of pity. Well, I know this path already. You’ll tread it again, no doubt, for some other poor soul, open the door for them as can’t find it. But we don’t talk about it, understand?”
“Miss Level never—”
“We don’t talk about it, I said,” said Granny Weatherwax. “Do you know what a part of being a witch is? It’s making the choices that have to be made. The hard choices. But you did…quite well. There’s no shame in pity.”
She brushed some grass seed off her dress.
“I hope Mrs. Ogg has arrived,” she said. “I need her recipe for apple chutney. Oh…when we arrive you might feel a bit dizzy. I’d better warn you.”
“Granny?” said Tiffany, as the light began to grow brighter. It brought tiredness back with it, too.
“Yes?”
“What exactly happened