Witches Abroad - Terry Pratchett [72]
“Right off the shoulder and onto the grass, as I recall,” said Granny. “No, she used magic. Not just ordinary magic, neither. Oh, she was willful!”
Nanny Ogg was about to say: What? You mean not compliant and self-effacing like what you is, Esme? But she stopped herself. You didn’t juggle matches in a fireworks factory.
“Young men’s fathers used to come around to complain,” said Granny darkly.
“They never came around to complain about me,” said Nanny happily.
“And always looking at herself in mirrors,” said Granny. “Prideful as a cat, she was. Prefer to look in a mirror than out of a window, she would.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lily.”
“That’s a nice name,” said Nanny.
“It isn’t what she calls herself now,” said Mrs. Gogol.
“I bet it isn’t!”
“And she’s, like, in charge of the city?” said Nanny.
“She was bossy, too!”
“What’d she want to be in charge of a city for?” said Nanny.
“She’s got plans,” said Mrs. Gogol.
“And vain? Really vain!” said Granny, apparently to the world in general.
“Did you know she was here?” said Nanny.
“I had a feelin’! Mirrors!”
“Mirror magic isn’t bad,” protested Nanny. “I’ve done all kinds of stuff with mirrors. You can have a lot of fun with a mirror.”
“She doesn’t just use one mirror,” said Mrs. Gogol.
“Oh.”
“She uses two.”
“Oh. That’s different.”
Granny stared at the surface of the water. Her own face stared back at her from the darkness.
She hoped it was her own face, anyway.
“I’ve felt her watchin’ us, the whole way here,” she said. “That’s where she’s happiest, inside mirrors. Inside mirrors, making people into stories.”
She prodded the image with a stick. “She even got a look at me in Desiderata’s house, just before Magrat came in. It ain’t nice, seeing someone else in your reflection—”
She paused. “Where is Magrat, anyway?”
“Out fairy godmothering, I think,” said Nanny. “She said she didn’t need any help.”
Magrat was annoyed. She was also frightened, which made her even more annoyed. It was hard for people when Magrat was annoyed. It was like being attacked by damp tissue.
“You have my personal word on it,” she said. “You don’t have to go to the ball if you don’t want to.”
“You won’t be able to stop them,” said Ella darkly. “I know how things work in this city.”
“Look, I said you won’t have to go!” said Magrat.
She looked thoughtful.
“There isn’t someone else you’d rather marry, is there?” she said.
“No. I don’t know many people. I don’t get much chance.”
“Good,” said Magrat. “That makes it easier. I suggest we get you out of here and—and take you somewhere else.”
“There isn’t anywhere else. I told you. There’s just swamp. I tried once or twice, and they sent the coachmen after me. They weren’t unkind. The coachmen, I mean. They’re just afraid. Everyone’s afraid. Even the Sisters are afraid, I think.”
Magrat looked around at the shadows.
“What of?” she said.
“They say that people disappear. If they upset the Duc. Something happens to them. Everyone’s very polite in Genua,” said Ella sourly. “And no one steals and no one raises their voice and everyone stays indoors at night, except when it’s Fat Tuesday.” She sighed. “Now that’s something I’d like to go to. To the carnival. They always make me stay in, though. But I hear it passing through the city and I think: that’s what Genua ought to be. Not a few people dancing in palaces, but everyone dancing in the streets.”
Magrat shook herself. She felt a long way from home.
“I think perhaps I might need a bit of help with this one,” she said.
“You’ve got a wand,” said Ella.
“I think there’s times when you need more than a wand,” said Magrat. She stood up.
“But I’ll tell you this,” she said. “I don’t like this house. I don’t like this city. Emberella?”
“Yes?”
“You won’t go to the ball. I’ll make sure of that—”
She turned around.
“I told you,” murmured Ella, looking down. “You can’t even hear them.”
One of the sisters was at the top of the steps leading into the kitchen. Her gaze was fixed immovably on Magrat.
They say that everyone has the attributes of some kind