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“She made cakes?” said Na
The committee shuffled aside. A lot of the ladies contributed to the food for the Trials. It was a tradition and an informal competition in its own right. At the centre of the spread of covered plates was a large platter piled high with ... things, of indefinite colour and shape. It looked as though a herd of small cows had eaten a lot of raisins and then been ill. They were Ur-cakes, prehistoric cakes, cakes of great weight and presence that had no place among the iced dainties.
“She’s never had the knack of it,” said Na
“Hahaha,” said Gammer solemnly.
“Tough, are they?”
“You could beat a troll to death.”
“But she was so ... sort of ... proud of them,” said Letice. “And then there’s ... the jam.”
It was a large pot. It seemed to be filled with solidified purple lava.
“Nice ... colour,” said Na
“We couldn’t get the spoon out,” said Gammer.
“Oh, I’m sure —”
“We only got it in with a hammer.”
“What’s she pla
“I don’t know what she’s thinking, Mrs Earwig.”
“I thought she was staying away.”
“She said she was going to take an interest and encourage the young ’uns.”
“She is pla
“No, that’s how she always cooks,” said Na
“She’s nearly finished the flags,” Gammer reported. “Now she’s going to try to make herself useful again.”
“Well ... I suppose we could ask her to do the Lucky Dip.”
Na
“Yes.”
“You’re going to let Gra
“Yes.”
“Only she’s got a fu
“Good morning to you all!”
It was Gra
“We was wondering if you could supervise the bran tub, Miss Weatherwax.”
Na
Nor can I, Na
When the others had scurried off she sidled up to her friend.
“Why’re you doing this?” she said.
“I really don’t know what you mean, Gytha.”
“I seen you face down terrible creatures, Esme. I once seen you catch a unicorn, for goodness’ sake. What’re you pla
“I still don’t know what you mean, Gytha.”
“Are you angry ’cos they won’t let you enter, and now you’re pla
For a moment they both looked at the field. It was begi
Their eyes were drawn to the roped-off square in the centre of the field.
“Are you going to enter the Trials, Gytha?” said Gra
“You never answered my question!”
“What question was that?”
Na
“I certainly hope you win, then. I’d cheer you on, only that wouldn’t be fair to the others. I shall merge into the background and be as quiet as a little mouse.”
Na
“Right, right,” she said. “Only ... you can tell me, right? I wouldn’t like to miss it when it happens. So If you could just give me a little signal when you’re going to do it, eh?”
“What’s it you’re referring to, Gytha?”
“Esme Weatherwax, sometimes I could really give you a bloody good slap!”
“Oh dear.”
Na
This put her in just about the right frame of mind for the Cursing.
It was said that once upon a time this had been done on a living, breathing subject, at least at the start of the event, but that wasn’t right for a family day out and for several hundred years the Curses had been directed at Unlucky Charlie who was, however you looked at it, nothing more than a scarecrow. And since curses are generally directed at the mind of the cursed, this presented a major problem, because even “May your straw go mouldy and your carrot fall off” didn’t make much impression on a pumpkin. But points were given for general style and inventiveness.
There wasn’t much pressure for those in any case. Everyone knew what event counted, and it wasn’t Unlucky Charlie.
One year Gra
Someone would walk away at the end of today and everyone would know they were the wi
Na
Witches are among themselves generally as sociable as cats but, as also with cats, there are locations and times and neutral grounds where they meet at something like peace. And what was going on was a sort of slow, complicated dance ...
The witches walked around saying hello to one another, and rushing to meet newcomers, and i
And when a witch was in the arena, especially if she was comparatively unknown, all the others found some excuse to keep an eye on her, preferably without appearing to do so.
It was like watching cats. Cats spend a lot of time carefully eyeing one another. When they have to fight, that’s merely to rubber-stamp something that’s already been decided in their heads.
Na
You needed to be a special kind of person to do that. You needed a special kind of ear, because you saw people in circumstances where they were inclined to tell you things, like where the money is buried or who the father was or how come they’d a black eye again. And you needed a special kind of mouth, the sort that stayed shut. Keeping secrets made you powerful. Being powerful earned you respect. Respect was hard currency.