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“Another elf?”
“Right, and then I found Eva and the kids, and then lots of people were running like hell for home, and there were these Gentry on horseback, and I could hear em laughing, and we got home and Eva said to put a horseshoe on the door and-”
“What about the king?”
“Dunno, miss. Last I remember, he was laughin at Thatcher in his straw wig. ”
“And Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax? What happened to them?”
“Dunno, miss. Dont remember seein em, but there was people runnin everywhere-”
“And where was all this?”
“Miss?”
“Where did it happen?” said Magrat, trying to speak slowly and distinctly.
“Up at the Dancers, miss. You know. Them old stones. ” Magrat let him go.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Dont tell Magrat, Magrats not to know about this sort of thing. The Dancers? Right. ”
“It wasnt us, miss! It was only make-believe!”
“Hah!”
She unbolted the door again.
“Wherere you going, miss?” said Weaver, who was not a competitor in the All-Lancre Uptake Stakes.
“Where dyou think?”
“But, miss, you cant take iron-”
Magrat slammed the door. Then she kicked the bowl of milk so hard that it sprayed across the street.
Jason Ogg crawled cautiously through the dripping bracken. There was a figure a few feet away. He hefted the stone in his hand-
“Jason?”
“Is that you, Weaver?”
“No, its me - Tailor. ”
“Wheres everyone else?”
“Tinkern Baker found Carpenter just now. Have you seen Weaver?”
“No, but I saw Carter and Thatcher. ”
Mist curled up as the rain drummed into the warm earth. The seven surviving Morris Men crawled under a
dripping bush.
“Theres going to be hell to pay in the morning!”
moaned Carter. “When she finds us were done for!”
“Well be all right if we can find some iron,” said Jason. “Iron dont have no effect on her! Shell tan our hides for us!”
Carter clutched his knees to his chest in terror.
“Who?”
“Mistress Weatherwax!”
Thatcher jabbed him in the ribs. Water cascaded off the leaves above them and tunnelled down every neck.
“Dont be so daft! You saw them things! Whatre you worrying about that old baggage for?”
“Shell tan our hides for us, right enough! Twas all our fault, shell say!”
“I just hopes she gets a chance,” muttered Tinker.
“We are,” said Thatcher, “between a rock and a hard place. ”
“No we aint,” sobbed Carter. “I been there. Thats that gorge just above Bad Ass. We aint there! I wish we was there! Were under this bush! And theyll be looking for us! And so shall she!”
“What happened when we was doing the Ent-” Carpenter began.
“I aint asking that question right now,” said Jason. “The question Im asking right now is, how do we get home tonight?”
“Shell be waiting for us!” Carter wailed.
There was a tinkle in the darkness.
“Whatve you got there?” said Jason.
“Its the props sack,” said Carter. “You said as how it was my job to look after the props sack!”
“You dragged that all the way down here?”
“I aint about to get into more trouble cos of losing the props sack!”
Carter started to shiver.
“If we gets back home,” said Jason, “Im going to talk to our mam about getting you some of these new dried frog pills. ”
He pulled the sack toward him and undid the top.
“Theres our bells in here,” he said, “and the sticks. And who told you to pack the accordion?”
“I thought we might want to do the Stick and-”
“No ones ever to do the Stick and-”
There was a laugh, away on the rain-soaked hill, and a crackling in the bracken. Jason suddenly felt the focus of attention.
“Theyre out there!” said Carter.
“And we aint got any weapons,” said Tinker.
A set of heavy brass bells hit him in the chest.
“Shut up,” said Jason, “and put your bells on. Carter?”
“Theyre waiting for us!”
“Ill say this just once,” said Jason. “After tonight no ones ever to talk about the Stick and Bucket dance ever again. All right?”
The Lancre Morris Men faced one another, rain plastering their clothes to their bodies.
Carter, tears of terror mingling with make-up and the rain, squeezed the accordion. There was the long-drawn-out chord that by law must precede all folk music to give bystanders time to get away
Jason held up his hand and counted his fingers.
“One, two . . . ” His forehead wrinkled. “One, two, three . . . ”
“. . . four . . . ” hissed Tinker.
“. . . four,” said Jason. “Dance, lads!”
Six heavy ash sticks clashed in mid-air.
“. . . one, two, forward, one, back, spin . . . ”
Slowly, as the leaky strains of Mrs. Widgerys Lodger wound around the mist, the dancers leapt and squelched their way slowly through the night. . .
“. . . two, back, jump . . . ”
The sticks clashed again.
“Theyre watching us!” panted Tailor, as he bounced past Jason, “I can see em!”
“. . . one . . . two . . . they wont do nothing til the music stops! . . . back, two, spin . . . they loves music! . . . forward, hop, turn . . . one and six, beetle crushers! . . . hop, back, spin . . . ”
“Theyre coming out of the bracken!” shouted Carpenter, as the sticks met again.
“I see em . . . two, three, forward, turn . . . Carter . . . back, spin . . . you do a double . . . two, back . . . wandering angus down the middle . . . ”
“Im losing it, Jason!”
“Play! . . . two, three, spin . . . ”
“Theyre all round us!”
“Dance!”
“Theyre watching us! Theyre closing in!”
“. . . spin, back . . . jump . . . were nearly at the road . . . ”
“Jason!”
“Remember when . . . three, turn . . . we won the cup against Ohulan Casuals? . . . spin . . . ”
The sticks met, with a thump of wood against wood. Clods of earth were kicked into the night.
“Jason, you dont mean-”
“. . . back, two . . . do it. . . ”
“Carters getting . . . one, two . . . out of wind . . . ”
“. . . two, spin. . . ”
“The accordions melting, Jason,” sobbed Carter.
“. . . one, two, forward . . . bean setting!”
The accordion wheezed. The elves pressed in. Out of the corner of his eye Jason saw a dozen grinning, fascinated faces.
“Jason!”
“. . . one, two . . . Carter into the middle . . . one, two, spin. . . ”
Seven pairs of boots thudded down . . .
“Jason!”
“. . . one, two . . . spin . . . ready . . . one, two . . . back . . . back . . . one, two . . . turn . . . KILL . . . and back, one, two. . . ”
The inn was a wreck. The elves had stripped it of everything edible and rolled out every barrel, although a couple of rogue cheeses in the cellar had put up quite a fight.
The table had collapsed. Lobster claws and candlesticks lay among the ruined meal.
Nothing moved.
Then someone sneezed, and some soot fell into the empty grate, followed by Nanny Ogg and, eventually, by the small, black, and irate figure of Casanunda.
“Yuk,” said Nanny, looking around at the debris. “This really is the pips. ”
“You should have let me fight them!”
&nbs
p; “There were too many of them, my lad. ”
Casanunda threw his sword on the floor in disgust.
“We were just getting to know one another properly and fifty elves burst into the place! Damn! This kind of thing happens to me all the time!”
“Thats the best thing about black, it doesnt show the soot,” said Nanny Ogg vaguely, dusting herself off. “They managed it, then. Esme was right. Wonder where she is? Oh, well. Come on. ”
“Wherere we going?” said the dwarf.
“Down to my cottage. ”
“Ah!”
“To get my broomstick,” said Nanny Ogg firmly. “I aint having the Queen of the Fairies ruling my children. So wed better get some help. This has gone too far. ”
“We could go up into the mountains,” said Casanunda, as they crept down the stairs. “Theres thousands of dwarfs up there. ”
“No,” said Nanny Ogg. “Esme wont thank me for this, but Im the one who has to wave the bag o sweets when she overreaches herself . . . and Im thinking about someone who really hates the Queen. ”
“You wont find anyone who hates her worse than dwarfs do,” said Casanunda.
“Oh, you will,” said Nanny Ogg, “if you knows where to look. ”
The elves had been into Nanny Oggs cottage, too. There werent two pieces of furniture left whole.
“What they dont take they smash,” said Nanny Ogg.
She stirred the debris with her foot. Glass tinkled.
“That vase was a present from Esme,” she said, to the unfeeling world in general. “Never liked it much. ”
“Whyd they do it?” said Casanunda, looking around.
“Oh, theyd smash the world if they thought itd make a pretty noise,” said Nanny She stepped outside again and felt around under the eaves of the low thatched roof, and pulled out her broomstick with a small grunt of triumph.
“I always shove it up there,” she said, “otherwise the kids nick it and go joy-riding. You ride behind me, and I say this against my better judgement. ”
Casanunda shuddered. Dwarfs are generally scared of heights, since they dont often have the opportunity to get used to them.
Nanny scratched her chin, making a sandpapery sound.
“And well need a crowbar,” she said. “Therell be one in Jasons forge. Hop on, my lad. ”
“I really wasnt expecting this,” said Casanunda, feeling his way on to the broomstick with his eyes shut. “I was looking forward to a convivial evening, just me and you. ”
“It is just me and you. ”
“Yes, but I hadnt assumed thered be a broomstick involved. ”
The stick left the ground slowly Casanunda clung miserably to the bristles.
“Wherere we going?” he said weakly
“Place I know, up in the hills,” said Nanny “Ages since Ive been there. Esme wont go near it, and Magrats too young to be tole. I used to go there a lot, though. When I was a girl. Girls used to go up there if they wanted to get-oh, bugger. . . ”
“What?”
“Thought I saw something fly across the moon, and Im damn sure it wasnt Esme. ”
Casanunda tried to look around while keeping his eyes shut.
“Elves cant fly,” he muttered.
“Thats all you know,” said Nanny. “They ride yarrow stalks. ”
“Yarrow stalks?”