Wintersmith - Terry Pratchett [41]
She saw Mrs. Earwig and Annagramma as the center of one group; the girl looked worried, and hurried over when she caught sight of Tiffany. She was red in the face.
“Have you heard anything?” she demanded.
“What? No!” said Tiffany, starting to pile up used plates.
“You’re trying to take the cottage away from me, aren’t you?” Annagramma was nearly crying.
“Don’t be silly! Me? I don’t want a cottage at all!”
“So you say. But some of them are saying you should get it! Miss Level and Miss Pullunder have spoken up for you!”
“What? I couldn’t possibly follow Miss Treason!”
“Well, of course that’s what Mrs. Earwig is telling everyone,” said Annagramma, settling down a bit. “Completely unacceptable, she says.”
I took the hiver through the Dark Door, Tiffany thought, as she viciously scraped food scraps into the garden for the birds. The White Horse came out of the hill for me. I got my brother and Roland back from the Queen of the Elves. And I danced with the Wintersmith, who turned me into ten billion snowflakes. No, I don’t want to be in a cottage in these damp woods, I don’t want to be a kind of slave to people who can’t be bothered to think for themselves, I don’t want to wear midnight and make people afraid of me. There is no name for what I want to be. But I was old enough to do all those things, and I was acceptable.
But she said: “I don’t know what this is about!”
At which point she felt someone looking at her, and she knew, if she turned around, that it would be Granny Weatherwax.
Her Third Thoughts—the ones that paid attention out of the corner of her ear and the edge of her eye all the time—told her: Something is going on. All you can do about it is be yourself. Don’t look around.
“You’re really not interested?” said Annagramma uncertainly.
“I’ve come up here to learn witching,” said Tiffany stiffly. “And then I’m going to go home. But…are you sure you want the cottage?”
“Well, of course! Every witch wants a cottage!”
“But they’ve had years and years of Miss Treason,” Tiffany pointed out.
“Then they’ll just have to get used to me,” said Annagramma. “I expect they’ll be pretty glad to see the back of skulls and cobwebs and being frightened! I know she’s got the local people really scared of her.”
“Ah,” said Tiffany.
“I’ll be a new broom,” said Annagramma. “Frankly, Tiffany, after that old woman, just about anyone would be popular.”
“Er, yes…” said Tiffany. “Tell me, Annagramma, have you ever worked with any other witch?”
“No, I’ve always been with Mrs. Earwig. I’m her first pupil, you know,” Annagramma added proudly. “She’s very exclusive.”
“And she doesn’t go around the villages much, does she?” said Tiffany.
“No. She concentrates on the Higher Magik.” Annagramma wasn’t particularly observant and was very vain, even by the standard of witches, but now she looked a little less confident. “Well, someone has to. We can’t all tramp around bandaging cut fingers, you know,” she added. “Is there a problem?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. I’m sure you’ll get on well,” said Tiffany. “Er…I know my way around the place, so if you need any help, just ask.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll get things sorted out to my liking,” said Annagramma, whose boundless self-confidence couldn’t stay squashed for long. “I’d better go. By the way, it looks as though the food is running low.”
She swept away.
The big vats on the trestle table just inside the door were indeed looking a bit empty. Tiffany saw one witch stuff four hard-boiled eggs into her pocket.
“Good afternoon, Miss Tick,” she said loudly.
“Ah, Tiffany,” said Miss Tick smoothly, turning around without the least sign of embarrassment. “Miss Treason has just been telling us how well you have been doing here.”
“Thank you, Miss Tick.”
“She says that you have a fine eye for hidden detail,” Miss Tick went on.
Like the labels on skulls, Tiffany thought. “Miss Tick,” she said, “do you know anything about people wanting me to take over the cottage?”
“Oh, that’s all been decided,” said Miss Tick. “There