First she saw the grey, glinting eye. Then the yel owwhite one with the tiny dot of a
pupil came into view
Around them was a friendly pink and white face topped by curly hair. It was actual y
quite pretty, in a boyish sort of way, except that those mismatched eyes staring out of it
suggested that it had been stolen from someone else
She started to move her hand but the boy was there first, dragging the sword
scabbard out of her belt
‘Ah, ah!’ he chided, turning and fending her off as she tried to grab it. ‘Wen, wel , wel .
My word. White bone handle, rather tasteless skul and bone decoration… Death
himself’s second favourite weapon, am I right? Oh, my! This must be Hogswatch! And
this must mean that you are Susan Sto-Helit. Nobility. I’d bow,’ he added, dancing
back, ‘but I’m afraid you’d do something dreadful—–
There was a click, and a little gasp of excitement from the wizard working on the
door
‘Yes! Yes! Left-handed using a wooden pick! That’s simple!
He saw that even Susan was looking at him, and coughed nervously
‘Er, I’ve got the fifth lock open, Mister Teatime! Not a problem! They’re just based on
Woddeley’
Occult Sequence! Any fool could do it if they knew that!
‘ I know it,’ said Teatime, without taking his eyes off Susan
‘Ah…
It was not technical y audible, but nevertheless Susan could almost hear the wizard’s
mind back-pedal ing. Up ahead was the conclusion that Teatime had no time for
people he didn’t need
‘… with… inter… est… ing subtleties,’ he said slowly. ‘Yes. Very tricky. I’l , er, just
have a look at number six…
‘How do you know who I am?’ said Susan
‘Oh, easy,’ said Teatime. ‘ Twurp’s Peerage. Family motto Non temetis messor. We
have to read it, you know, in class. Hah, old Mericet cal s it the Guide to the Turf. No
one laughs except him, of course. Oh yes, I know about you. Quite a lot. Your father
was wel known. Went a long way very fast. As for your grandfather… honestly, that
motto. Is that good taste? Of course, you don’t need to fear him, do you? Or do you?
Susan tried to fade. It didn’t work. She could feel herself staying embarrassingly
solid
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said. ‘Who are you, anyway?
‘I beg your pardon. My name is Teatime, Jonathan Teatime. At your service.
Susan lined up the syl ables in her head
‘You mean… like around four o’clock in the afternoon?’ she said
‘No. I did say Teh-ah-tim-eh,’ said Teatime. ‘I spoke very clearly. Please don’t try to
break my concentration by annoying me. I only get annoyed at important things. How
are you getting on, Mr Sideney? If it’s just according to Woddeley’s sequence, number
six should be copper and blue-green light. Unless, of course, there are any
subtleties…
‘Er, doing it right now, Mister Teatime-
‘Do you think your grandfather wil try to rescue you? Do you think he wil ? But now I
have his sword, you see. I wonder–
There was another click
‘Sixth lock, Mister Teatime!
‘Real y.
‘Er… don’t you want me to start on the seventh?
‘Oh, wel , if you like. Pure white light wil be the key,’ said Teatime, stil not looking
away from Susan. ‘But it may not be al important now. Thank you, anyway. You’ve
been most helpful.
‘Er-.–
‘Yes, you may go.
Susan noticed that Sideney didn’t even bother to pick up his books and tools, but
hurried down the stairs as if he expected to be cal ed back and was trying to run faster
than the sound
‘Is that al you’re here for?’ she said. ‘A robbery?’ He was dressed like an Assassin,
after al , and there was always one way to annoy an Assassin. ‘Like a thief?
Teatime danced excitedly. ‘A thief? Me? I’!
not a thief, madam. But if I were, I would be the kind that steals fire from the gods.
‘We’ve already got fire.
‘There must be an upgrade by now. No, these gentlemen are thieves. Common
robbers. Decent types, although you wouldn’t necessarily want to watch them eat, for
example. That’s Medium Dave and exhibit B is Banjo. He can talk.
Medium Dave nodded at Susan. She saw the look in his eyes. Maybe there was
something she could use..
She’d need something. Even her hair was a mess. She couldn’t step behind time,
she couldn’t fade into the background, and now even her hair had let her down
She was normal. Here, she was what she’d always wanted to be
Bloody, bloody damn
Sideney prayed as he ran down the stairs. He didn’t believe in any gods, since most
wizards seldom like to encourage them, but he prayed anyway the fervent prayers of
an atheist who hopes to be wrong
But no one cal ed him back. And no one ran after him
So, being of a serious turn of mind under his normal state of sub-critical fear, he
slowed down in case he lost his footing
It was then that he noticed that the steps underfoot weren’t the smooth whiteness
they ha
been everywhere else but were very large, pitted flagstones. And the light had
changed, and then they weren’t stairs any more and he staggered as he encountered
flat ground where steps should have been
His outstretched hand brushed against a crumbling brick
And the ghosts of the past poured in, and he knew where he was. He was in the yard
of Gammer Wimblestone’s dame school. His mother wanted him to learn his letters
and be a wizard, but she also thought that long curls on a five-year-old boy looked very
smart
This was the hunting ground of Ronnie Jenks
Adult memory and understanding said that Ronnie was just an unintel igent bul et-
headed seven-year-old bul y with muscles where his brain should have been. The eye
of childhood, rather more accurately, dreaded him as a force like a personalized
earthquake with one nostril bunged up with bogies, both knees scabbed, both fists
bal ed and al five brain cel s concentrated in a kind of cerebral grunt
Oh, gods. There was the tree Ronnie used to hide behind. It looked as big and
menacing as he remembered it
But… if somehow he’d ended up back there, gods knew how, wel , he might be a bit
on the skinny side but he was a damn sight bigger than Ronnie Jenks now. Gods, yes,
he’d kick those evil little trousers al the-
And then, as a shadow blotted out the sun, he realized he was wearing curls
Teatime looked thoughtful y at the door
‘I suppose I should open it,’ he said, ‘after coming al this way…
‘You’re control ing children by their teeth,’ said Susan
‘It does sound odd, doesn’t it, when you put it like that,’ said Teatime. ‘But that’s
sympathetic magic for you. Is your grandfather going to try to rescue you, do you
think? But no… I don’t think he can. Not here, I think. I don’t think that he can come
here. So he sent you, did he?
‘Certainly not! He-‘ Susan stopped. Oh, he had, she told herself, feeling even more of
a fool. He certainly had. He was learning about humans, al right. For a walking
skeleton, he could be quite clever..
But… how clever was Teatime? Just a bit too excited at his cleverness to realize that
if DeathShe tried to stamp on the thought, just in case Teatime could read it in her
eyes
‘I don’t think he’l try,’ she said. ‘He’s not as clever as you, Mister Teatime.
‘Teh-ah-tim-eh,’ said Teatime, automatical y. ‘That’s a shame.
‘Do you think You’re going to get away with this?
‘Oh, dear. Do people real y say that?’ An
suddenly Teatime was much closer. ‘I’ve got away with it. No more Hogfather. And
that’s only the start. We’l keep the teeth coming in, of course. The possibilities—
There was a rumble like an avalanche, a long way off. The dormant Banjo had
awakened, causing tremors on his lower slopes. His enormous hands, which had been
resting on his knees, started to bunch
‘What’s dis?’ he said
Teatime stopped and, for a moment, looked puzzled
‘What’s this what?
‘You said no more Hogfather,’ said Banjo. He stood up, like a mountain range rising
gently in the squeeze between col iding continents. His hands stil stayed in the vicinity
of his knees
Teatime stared at him and then glanced at Medium Dave
‘He does know what we’ve been doing, does he?’ he said. ‘You did tel him?
Medium Dave shrugged
‘Dere’s got to be a Hogfather,’ said Banjo. ‘Dere’s always a Hogfather.
Susan looked down. Grey blotches were speeding across the white marble. She was
standing in a pool of grey. So was Banjo. And around Teatime the dots bounced and