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"Right," said Na
"We had one once but the bit you unscrew fell off and got lost," said Old Mother Dismass.
Hurker the poacher shovelled the last of the earth into the hole. He felt he ought to say a few words.
"Well, that's about it, then," he said.
She'd definitely been one of the better witches, he thought, as he wandered back to the cottage in the pre-dawn gloom. Some of the other ones - while of course being wonderful human beings, he added to himself hurriedly, as fine a bunch of women as you could ever hope to avoid - were just a bit overpowering. Mistress Hollow had been a listening kind of person.
On the kitchen table was a long package, a small pile of coins, and an envelope.
He opened the envelope, although it was not addressed to him.
Inside was a smaller envelope, and a note.
The note said: I'm watching you, Albert Hurker. Deliver the packige and the envlope and if you dare take a peek inside something dretful will happen to you. As a profesional Good Farey Godmother I aint allowed to curse anyone but I Predict it would probly involve bein bittern by an enraged wolf and your leg going green and ru
He picked up the package with his eyes shut.
Light travels slowly in the Discworld's vast magical field, which means that time does too. As Na
In fact it was dawn in Genua. Lilith sat in her tower, using a mirror, sending her own image out to scan the world. She was searching.
Wherever there was a sparkle on a wave crest, wherever there was a sheet of ice, wherever there was a mirror or a reflection then Lilith knew she could see out. You didn't need a magic mirror. Any mirror would do, if you knew how to use it. And Lilith, crackling with the power of a million images, knew that very well.
There was just a nagging doubt. Presumably Desiderata would have got rid of it. Her sort were like that. Conscientious. And presumably it would be to that stupid girl with the watery eyes who sometimes visited the cottage, the one with all the cheap jewellery and the bad taste in clothes. She looked just the type.
But Lilith wanted to be sure. She hadn't got where she was today without being sure.
In puddles and windows all over Lancre, the face of Lilith appeared momentarily and then moved on...
And now it was dawn in Lancre. Autumn mists rolled through the forest.
Gra
"She's had herself buried round the back," said a voice behind her. It was Na
Gra
"Ah," she said, nodding. "Always very neat in her ways, was Desiderata."
"Well, it was the job," said Na
"It's a lion," said Gra
"Must've hit the wall at a hell of a speed, whatever it was," said Na
"Someone killed it," said Gra
"Should think so," said Na
There was of course no such thing as a typical witch's cottage, but if there was such a thing as a non-typical witch's cottage, then this was certainly it. Apart from various glassy-eyed animal heads, the walls were covered in bookshelves and water-colour pictures. There was a spear in the umbrella stand. Instead of the more usual earthenware and china on the dresser there were foreign-looking brass pots and fine blue porcelain. There wasn't a dried herb anywhere in the place but there were a great many books, most of them filled with Desiderata's small, neat handwriting. A whole table was covered with what were probably maps, meticulously drawn.
Gra
"She certainly got about a bit," said Na
"Well, it was easy for her," said Gra
"She could have found time to go over the place with a duster," she said vaguely. "I wouldn't go and die and leave my place in this state."
"I wonder where she left... you know... «?" said Na
"Shame on you, Gytha Ogg," said Gra
"Of course not. I was just wondering..." Na
"Gytha! For shame! Go and make us a cup of tea!"
"Oh, all right."
Na
Gra
There was a clatter from the next room. She straightened up hurriedly.
"I shouldn't think it'd be under the sink, neither," she shouted.
Na
Gra
"Looking for something, Esme?" said Na
"The soot up here is terrible," said Gra
"It's not up there, then?" said Na
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't have to pretend. Everyone knows she must have had one," said Na
"Well... maybe I just wanted a look at it," Gra
Na
"You don't think she's been buried with it, do you?"
"Shouldn't think so. I wouldn't want to be buried with it. Thing like that, it's a bit of a responsibility. Anyway, it wouldn't stay buried. A thing like that wants to be used. It'd be rattling around your coffin the whole time. You know the trouble they are."
She relaxed a bit. "I'll sort out the tea things," she said. "You light the fire."
She wandered back into the scullery.
Gra
Gra
She threw a couple of logs into the fireplace and glared at them until they burst into flame out of sheer embarrassment.
It was then that her eye was caught by the shrouded mirror.
"Coverin' it over?" she murmured. "I didn't know old Desiderata was frightened of thunderstorms."
She twitched aside the cloth.
She stared.
Very few people in the world had more self-control than Gra
She smashed the mirror.