Witches Abroad - Terry Pratchett [78]
“No. I was thinkin’ of something else. I was thinkin’ about…how stories work. And now…I think I’d like something to eat,” said Granny weakly. She rallied a bit. “And I mean some proper food, not somethin’ scraped off the bottom of a pond. And I don’t want any of this cuisine stuff, neither.”
“You ought to be more adventurous, Granny,” said Magrat.
“I ain’t against adventure, in moderation,” said Granny, “but not when I’m eatin’.”
“There’s a place back there that does alligator sandwiches,” said Nanny, turning away from the parade. “Can you believe that? Alligators in a sandwich?”
“That reminds me of a joke,” said Granny Weatherwax. Something was nagging at her consciousness.
Nanny Ogg started to cough, but it didn’t work.
“This man went into an inn,” said Granny Weatherwax, trying to ignore the rising uneasiness. “And he saw this sign. And it said ‘We serve all kinds of sandwiches.’ And it said, ‘Get me an alligator sandwich—and I want it right away!”
“I don’t think alligator sandwiches is very kind to alligators,” said Magrat, dropping the observation into the leaden pause.
“I always say a laugh does you good,” said Nanny.
Lilith smiled at the figure of Ella, standing forlornly between the snake women.
“And such a raggedy dress, too,” she said. “And the door to the room was locked. Tut-tut. However can it have happened?”
Ella stared at her feet.
Lilith smiled at the sisters. “Well,” she said, “we’ll just have to do the best we can with what we’ve got. Hmm? Fetch me…fetch me two rats and two mice. I know you can always find rats and mice. And bring in the big pumpkin.”
She laughed. Not the mad, shrill laughter of the bad fairy who’s been defeated, but the rather pleasant laughter of someone who’s just seen the joke.
She looked reflectively at the wand.
“But first,” she said, transferring her gaze to Ella’s pale face, “you’d better bring in those naughty men who let themselves get so drunk. That’s not respectful. And if you haven’t got respect, you haven’t got anything.”
The clicking of the wand was the only sound in the kitchen.
Nanny Ogg poked at the tall drink in front of her.
“Beats me why they puts an umbrella in it,” she said, sucking the cocktail cherry off the stick. “I mean, do they want to stop it getting wet or something?”
She grinned at Magrat and Granny, who were both staring gloomily at the passing celebrations.
“Cheer up,” she said. “Never seen such a pair of long faces in all my puff.”
“That’s neat rum you’re drinking,” said Magrat.
“You’re telling me,” said Nanny, taking a swig. “Cheers!”
“It was too easy,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“It was only easy ’cos we done it,” said Nanny. “You want something done, we’re the girls to do it, eh? You show me anyone else who could have nipped in there and done all that in the nick of time, eh? Especially the coach bit.”
“It doesn’t make a good story,” said Granny.
“Oh, bugger stories,” said Nanny loftily. “You can always change a story.”
“Only at the right places,” said Granny. “Anyway, maybe they could get her a new dress and horses and a coach and everything.”
“Where? When?” said Nanny. “It’s a holiday. And there’s no time, anyway. They’ll be starting the ball at any moment.”
Granny Weatherwax’s fingers drummed on the edge of the café table.
Nanny sighed.
“Now what?” she said.
“It doesn’t happen like this,” said Granny.
“Listen, Esme, the only kind of magic that’d work right now is wand magic. And Magrat’s got the wand.” Nanny nodded at Magrat. “Ain’t that so, Magrat?”
“Um,” said Magrat.
“Not lost it, have you?”
“No, but—”
“There you are, then.”
“Only…um…Ella said she’d got two godmothers…”
Granny Weatherwax’s hand thumped down on the table. Nanny’s drink flew into the air and overturned.
“That’s right!” roared Granny.
“That was nearly full. That was a nearly full drink,” said Nanny reproachfully.
“Come on!”
“Best part of a whole glass of—”
“Gytha!”
“Did I say