‘Do they do their own cooking, then?’
‘I don’t think so. They walk around the house at night, after I’ve gone to bed. Godmother Lilith says I must be kind to them and pity them because they can’t talk, and always see that we’ve got plenty of cheese in the larder.’
‘They eat nothing but cheese?’ said Magrat.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Ella.
‘I should think the rats and mice get it, then, in an old place like this.’
‘You know, it’s a funny thing,’ said Ella, ‘but I’ve never seen a mouse anywhere in this house.’
Magrat shivered. She felt watched.
‘Why don’t you just walk away? I would.’
‘Where to? Anyway, they always find me. Or they send the coachmen and grooms after me.’
‘That’s horrible!’
‘I’m sure they think that sooner or later I’ll marry anyone to get away from laundry,’ said Ella. ‘Not mat the Prince’s clothes get washed, I expect,’ she added bitterly. ‘I expect they get burned after he’s worn them.’
‘ What you want to do is make a career of your own,’ said Magrat encouragingly, to keep her spirits up. ‘You want to be your own woman. You want to emancipate yourself.’
‘I don’t think I want to do that,’ said Ella, speaking with caution in case it was a sin to offend a fairy godmother.
‘You do really,’ said Magrat.
‘Do I?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’
‘You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to.’
Ella sat back.
‘How good are you?’ she said.
‘Er … well … I suppose I – ‘
‘The dress arrived yesterday,’ said Ella. ‘It’s up in the big front room, on a stand so it doesn’t get creased. So that it stays perfect. And they’ve polished up the coach specially. They’ve hired extra footmen, too.’
‘Yes, but perhaps – ‘
‘I think I’m going to have to marry someone I don’t want to,’ said Ella.
Granny Weatherwax strode up and down the driftwood balcony. The whole shack trembled to her stamping. Ripples spread out as it bounced on the water.
‘Of course you don’t remember her!’ she shouted. ‘Our mam kicked her out when she was thirteen! We was both tiny then! But I remember the rows! I used to hear them when I was in bed! She was wanton?
‘You always used to say I was wanton, when we was younger,’ said Nanny.
Granny hesitated, caught momentarily off balance. Then she waved a hand irritably.
‘You was, of course,’ she said dismissively. ‘But you never used magic for it, did you?’
‘Din’t have to,’ said Nanny happily. ‘An off-the* shoulder dress did the trick most of the time.’
‘Right off the shoulder and on to the grass, as I recall,’ said Granny. ‘No, she used magic. Not just ordinary magic, neither. Oh, she was wilfulV
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 round to complain,’ said Granny darkly.
‘They never came round 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 vainl’ 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 of animal. Magrat possibly had a direct mental link to some small furry creature. She felt the terror of all small rodents in the face of unblinking death. Modulated over the menace of the gaze were all sorts of messages: the uselessness of flight, the stupidity of resistance, the inevitability of oblivion.
She knew she could do nothing. Her legs weren’t under her control. It was as if commands were coming straight down that stare and into her spinal cord. The sense of helplessness was almost peaceful …
‘Blessings be upon this house.’
The sister spun around much faster than any human should be able to move.
Granny Weatherwax pushed open the door. ‘Oh deary me,’ she thundered, ‘and lawks.’
‘Yeah,’ said Nanny Ogg, crowding through the doorway behind her. ‘Lawks too.’
‘We’re just a couple of old beggar women,’ said Granny, striding across the floor.
‘Begging from house to house,’ said Nanny Ogg. ‘Not coming directly here by any manner o’ means.’
They each caught one of Magrat’s elbows and lifted her off her feet.
Granny turned her head.
‘What about you, Miss?’
Ella shook her head without looking up.
‘No,’ she said, ‘I mustn’t come.’
Granny’s eyes narrowed. ‘I suppose not,’ she said. ‘We all have our path to walk, or so it is said, although not by me. Come, Gytha.’
‘We’re just off,’ said Nanny Ogg, brightly.
They turned.
Another sister appeared in the doorway.
‘Ye gods,’ said Nanny Ogg. ‘I never saw her move!’
‘We was just going out,’ said Granny Weatherwax loudly. ‘If it’s all the same with you, m’lady?’
She met the stare head-on.
The air tingled.
Then Granny Weatherwax said, between gritted teeth, ‘When I say run, Gytha – ‘
‘I hear you,’ said Nanny.
Granny groped behind her and found the teapot Magrat had just used. She weighed it in her hands, keeping the movements slow and gentle.
‘Ready, Gytha?’
‘Waitin’, Esme.’
‘Run!’
Granny hurled the teapot high into the air. The heads of both sisters snapped around.