Hogfather - Terry Pratchett [106]
There was a click, and a little gasp of excitement from the wizard working on the door.
“Yes! Yes! Left-handed using a wooden pick! That’s simple!”
He saw that even Susan was looking at him, and coughed nervously.
“Er, I’ve got the fifth lock open, Mister Teatime! Not a problem! They’re just based on Woddeley’s Occult Sequence! Any fool could do it if they knew that!”
“I know it,” said Teatime, without taking his eyes off Susan.
“Ah…”
It was not technically audible, but nevertheless Susan could almost hear the wizard’s mind back-pedaling. Up ahead was the conclusion that Teatime had no time for people he didn’t need.
“…with…inter…est…ing subtleties,” he said slowly. “Yes. Very tricky. I’ll, er, just have a look at number six…”
“How do you know who I am?” said Susan.
“Oh, easy,” said Teatime. “Twurp’s Peerage. Family motto Non temetis messor. We have to read it, you know, in class. Hah, old Mericet calls it the Guide to the Turf. No one laughs except him, of course. Oh, yes, I know about you. Quite a lot. Your father was well known. Went a long way very fast. As for your grandfather…honestly, that motto. Is that good taste? Of course, you don’t need to fear him, do you? Or do you?”
Susan tried to fade. It didn’t work. She could feel herself staying embarrassingly solid.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I beg your pardon. My name is Teatime, Jonathan Teatime. At your service.”
Susan lined up the syllables in her head.
“You mean…like around four o’clock in the afternoon?” she said.
“No. I did say Teh-ah-tim-eh,” said Teatime. “I spoke very clearly. Please don’t try to break my concentration by annoying me. I only get annoyed at important things. How are you getting on, Mr. Sideney? If it’s just according to Woddeley’s Sequence, number six should be copper and blue-green light. Unless, of course, there are any subtleties…”
“Er, doing it right now, Mister Teatime—”
“Do you think your grandfather will try to rescue you? Do you think he will? But now I have his sword, you see. I wonder—”
There was another click.
“Sixth lock, Mister Teatime!”
“Really.”
“Er…don’t you want me to start on the seventh?”
“Oh, well, if you like. Pure white light will be the key,” said Teatime, still not looking away from Susan. “But it may not be all important now. Thank you, anyway. You’ve been most helpful.”
“Er—”
“Yes, you may go.”
Susan noticed that Sideney didn’t even bother to pick up his books and tools, but hurried down the stairs as if he expected to be called back and was trying to run faster than the sound.
“Is that all you’re here for?” she said. “A robbery?” He was dressed like an Assassin, after all, and there was always one way to annoy an Assassin. “Like a thief?”
Teatime danced excitedly. “A thief? Me? I’m not a thief, madam. But if I were, I would be the kind that steals fire from the gods.”
“We’ve already got fire.”
“There must be an upgrade by now. No, these gentlemen are thieves. Common robbers. Decent types, although you wouldn’t necessarily want to watch them eat, for example. That’s Medium Dave and exhibit B is Banjo. He can talk.”
Medium Dave nodded at Susan. She saw the look in his eyes. Maybe there was something she could use…
She’d need something. Even her hair was a mess. She couldn’t step behind time, she couldn’t fade into the background, and now even her hair had let her down.
She was normal. Here, she was what she’d always wanted to be.
Bloody, bloody damn.
Sideney prayed as he ran down the stairs. He didn’t believe in any gods, since most wizards seldom like to encourage them, but he prayed anyway the fervent prayers of an atheist who hopes to be wrong.
But no one called him back. And no one