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It stared down at the witches.
Eventually Na
The dwarf nodded. Its attention kept turning to the pile of pumpkins that filled the tu
"Er, yes," it said. "Is dad there?"
"Dad?"
"The King."
"Oh." Na
The dwarfs appeared. They looked at the pumpkins, too. The King stepped forward and stared up into the face of his son.
"Everything all right, son?"
"It's all right, dad. No faulting or anything."
The King sagged with relief. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Everyone all right?"
"Fine, dad."
"I was quite worried for a time there. Thought we might have hit a section of conglomerate or something."
"Just a patch of loose shale, dad."
"Good." The King looked at the heap again. He scratched his beard. "Can't help noticing you seem to have struck pumpkin."
"I thought it was an odd kind of sandstone, dad."
The King walked back to the witches.
"Can you turn anything into anything?" he said hopefully.
Na
"I think we only do pumpkins at the moment," she said cautiously.
The King looked a little disappointed.
"Well, then," he said, "if there's anything I can do for you ladies... a cup of tea or something..."
Gra
The King beamed.
"Only more expensive," said Gra
The King stopped beaming.
Na
"Very clever," she whispered. "Why'd you think of pumpkins?"
"I didn't!"
"Don't you know how to work it?"
"No! I thought you just had to, you know, want something to happen!"
"There's probably more to it than just wishing," said Na
Some time around dawn, in so far as dawn happened in the mines, the witches were led to a river somewhere deep in the mountains, where a couple of barges were moored. A small boat was pulled up to a stone jetty.
"This'll take you right through the mountains," said the King. "I think it goes all the way to Genua, to tell the truth." He took a large basket off an attendant dwarf. "And we've packed you some lovely food," he said.
"Are we going to go all the way in a boat?" said Magrat. She gave the wand a few surreptitious flourishes. "I'm not good at boats."
"Listen," said Gra
"And we can have a bit of a rest," said Na
Magrat looked at the two older witches, who were making themselves comfortable in the stern like a couple of hens settling down on a nest.
"Do you know how to row a boat?" she said.
"We don't have to," said Gra
Magrat nodded gloomily. Then a tiny bit of self-assertion flashed a fin.
"I don't think I do, too," she ventured.
"That's all right," said Na
Magrat sighed, and picked up the oars.
"The flat bits go in the water," said Gra
The dwarfs waved. The boat drifted out into midstream, moving slowly in a circle of lantern light. Magrat found that all she really had to do was keep it pointing the right way in the current.
She heard Na
She heard Gra
She heard Na
"Well, well, well."
"What is it, Gytha?"
"Pumpkin."
"Pumpkin what?"
"Pumpkin nothing. Just pumpkin pumpkin."
"Well, I suppose they've got a lot of pumpkin," said Magrat. "You know how it is at the end of the summer, there's always so much in the garden. I'm always at my wits' end to think of new types of chutney and pickles to use it all up - "
In the dim light she could see Gra
"I," said Gra
"But you like pickles," said Magrat. Witches and pickles went together like - she hesitated before the stomach-curdling addition of peaches and cream, and mentally substituted ‘things that went together very well'. The sight of Na
"I likes ‘em fine," said Gra
"You know," said Na
"Mean little devils. You should see the prices they tries to charge me when I takes my broom to be repaired," said Gra
"Yes, but you never pay," said Magrat.
"That's not the point," said Gra
"I don't see how it can be thieving if you don't pay anyway," Magrat persisted.
"I never pay for anything," said Gra
"Here, what's this?" said Na
"My word," said Gra
Na
"They say it never goes stale even if you stores it for years," said Gra
"It'd keep you going for days and days," said Na
Magrat reached across, took one of the flat loaves, tried to break it, and gave up.
"You're supposed to eat it?" she said.
"Oh, I don't think it's for eating," said Na
" - keeping you going," said Gra
She stopped.
Above the noise of the river and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling they could all hear, now, the steady slosh-slosh of another craft heading towards them.
"Someone's following us!" hissed Magrat.
Two pale glows appeared at the edge of the lamplight. Eventually they turned out to be the eyes of a small grey creature, vaguely froglike, paddling towards them on a log.
It reached the boat. Long clammy fingers grabbed the side, and a lugubrious face rose level with Na
" ‘ullo," it said. "It'sss my birthday."
All three of them stared at it for a while. Then Gra
"Horrible little bugger," said Gra
"Yeah," said Na
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