Witches Abroad - Terry Pratchett [7]
“Well, if Magrat can’t take it on there’s Millie Hopgood from over Slice way,” said Gammer Brevis. “She’s a hard-working girl. Mind you, she’s got a worse squint than Magrat.”
“Nothing wrong with that. A squint looks good on a witch,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“But you have to know how to use it,” said Nanny Ogg. “Old Gertie Simmons used to have a squint and she was always putting the evil influence on the end of her own nose. We can’t have people thinkin’ that if you upset a witch she curses and mutters and then her own nose drops off.”
They all stared at the fire again.
“I suppose Desiderata wouldn’t have chosen her own successor?” said Gammer Brevis.
“Can’t go doin’ that,” said Granny Weatherwax. “That’s not how we do things in these parts.”
“Yes, but Desiderata didn’t spend much time in these parts. It was the job. She was always going off to foreign parts.”
“I can’t be having with foreign parts,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“You’ve been to Ankh-Morpork,” said Nanny mildly. “That’s foreign.”
“No it’s not. It’s just a long way off. That’s not the same as foreign. Foreign’s where they gabble at you in heathen lingo and eat foreign muck and worship, you know, objects,” said Granny Weatherwax, goodwill diplomat. “Foreign can be quite close too, if you’re not careful. Huh,” she added witheringly. “Yes, she could bring back just about anything from foreign parts.”
“She brought me back a nice blue and white plate once,” said Nanny Ogg.
“That’s a point,” said Gammer Brevis. “Someone’d better go and see to her cottage. She had quite a lot of good stuff there. It’d be dreadful to think of some thief getting in there and having a rummage.”
“Can’t imagine any thief’d want to break into a witch’s—” Granny began, and then stopped abruptly.
“Yes,” she said meekly. “Good idea. I’ll see to it directly.”
“No, I’ll see to it,” said Nanny Ogg, who’d also had time to work something out. “It’s right on my way home. No problem.”
“No, you’ll be wanting to get home early,” said Granny. “Don’t you bother yourself. It’d be no trouble.”
“Oh, it won’t be any trouble at all,” said Nanny.
“You don’t want to go tiring yourself out at your age,” said Granny Weatherwax.
They glared at one another.
“I really don’t see that it matters,” said Gammer Brevis. “You might as well go together rather than fight about it.”
“I’m a bit busy tomorrow,” said Granny. “How about after lunch?”
“Right,” said Nanny Ogg. “We’ll meet at her cottage. Right after lunch.”
“We had one once but the bit you unscrew fell off and got lost,” said Old Mother Dismass.
Hurker the poacher shovelled the last of the earth into the hole. He felt he ought to say a few words.
“Well, that’s about it, then,” he said.
She’d definitely been one of the better witches, he thought, as he wandered back to the cottage in the pre-dawn gloom. Some of the other ones—while of course being wonderful human beings, he added to himself hurriedly, as fine a bunch of women as you could ever hope to avoid—were just a bit overpowering. Mistress Hollow had been a listening kind of person.
On the kitchen table was a long package, a small pile of coins, and an envelope.
He opened the envelope, although it was not addressed to him.
Inside was a smaller envelope, and a note.
The note said: I’m watching you, Albert Hurker. Deliver the packige and the envlope and if you dare take a peek inside something dretful will happen to you. As a profesional Good Farey Godmother I aint allowed to curse anyone but I Predict it would probly involve bein bittern by an enraged wolf and your leg going green and runny and dropping off, dont arsk me how I know anyway you carnt because, I am dead. All the best, Desiderata.
He picked up the package with his eyes shut.
Light travels slowly in the Discworld’s vast magical field, which means that time does too. As Nanny Ogg would put it, when it’s teatime in Genua it’s Tuesday over here…
In fact it was dawn in Genua. Lilith sat in her tower, using a mirror, sending her own image out to scan the world. She was searching.
Wherever there was a sparkle