Witches Abroad - Terry Pratchett [104]
“I was just walkin’ about,” said Nanny. “No law against it.”
“You changed the story your way, and now I’m going to do it mine,” said Lily. “And once again…all you have to do is go. Just go away. What happens here doesn’t matter. It’s a city far away of which you know little. I’m not totally certain I could out-trick you,” she added, “but these two…they haven’t got the right stuff in them. I could make jam of them. I hope you know that. So tonight, I suggest, a Weatherwax learns to lose?”
Granny stood silent for a while, leaning on her useless broom.
“All right. Put her down,” she said. “And then I’ll say you’ve won.”
“I wish I could believe that,” said Lily. “Oh…but you’re the nice one, aren’t you? You have to keep your word.”
“Watch me,” said Granny. She walked to the parapet and looked down. The two-faced moon was still bright enough to illuminate the billowing fogs that surrounded the palace like a sea.
“Magrat? Gytha?” she said. “Sorry about this. You’ve won, Lily. There ain’t nothing I can do.”
She jumped.
Nanny Ogg rushed forward and stared over the edge, just in time to see a dim figure vanish in the mists.
All three figures left on the tower took a deep breath.
“It’s a trick,” said Lily, “to get me off guard.”
“It isn’t!” screamed Magrat, dropping to the stones.
“She had her broomstick,” said Lily.
“It don’t work! It won’t start!” shouted Nanny. “Right,” she said, menacingly, striding toward the slim shape of Lily. “We’ll soon wipe that smug look off your face—”
She halted as silver pain shot through her body.
Lily laughed.
“It’s true, then?” she said. “Yes. I can see it in your faces. Esme was bright enough to know she couldn’t win. Don’t be stupid. And don’t point that silly wand at me, Miss Garlick. Old Desiderata would have defeated me long ago if she could. People have no understanding.”
“We ought to go down there,” said Magrat. “She might be lying there—”
“That’s it. Be good. It’s what you’re good at,” said Lily, as they ran to the stairwell.
“But we’ll be back,” snarled Nanny Ogg. “Even if we have to live in the swamp with Mrs. Gogol and eat snakes’ heads!”
“Of course,” said Lily, arching an eyebrow. “That’s what I said. One needs people like you around. Otherwise one is never quite sure one is still working. It’s a way of keeping score.”
She watched them disappear down the steps.
A wind blew over the tower. Lily gathered up her skirts and walked to the end, where she could see the shreds of mist streaming over the rooftops far below. There were the faint strains of music from the distant carnival dance as it wound its way through the streets.
It would soon be midnight. Proper midnight, not some cut-price version caused by an old woman crawling around in a clock.
Lily tried to see through the murk to the bottom of the tower.
“Really, Esme,” she murmured, “you did take losing hard.”
Nanny reached out and restrained Magrat as they ran down the spiral stairs.
“Slow down a bit, I should,” she said.
“But she could be hurt—!”
“So could you, if you trip. Anyway,” said Nanny, “I don’t reckon Esme is lyin’ in a crumpled heap somewhere. That’s not the way she’d go. I reckon she did it just to make sure Lily forgot about us and wouldn’t try anything on us. I reckon she thought we were—what was that Tsortean bloke who could only be wounded if you hit ’im in the right place? No one ever beat ’im until they found out about it. His knee, I think it was. We’re her Tsortean knee, right?”
“But we know you have to run really fast to get her broomstick going!” shouted Magrat.
“Yeah, I know,” said Nanny. “That’s what I thought. And now I’m thinking…how fast do you go when you’re dropping? I mean, straight