Wintersmith

by Terry Pratchett

Page 26

 

  "Really? Then I wont open the door to her next time," said Annagramma firmly. "No, let her in. Really, its all because shes lonely and wants to chat. "

  "Well, I should think Ive got better things to do with my time than listen to an old lady who just wants to talk," said Annagramma indignantly. Tiffany looked at her. Where did you start, apart from banging the girls head on the table until the brain started working? "Listen very carefully," she said. "I mean to her, not just to me. Youve got no better use of your time than to listen to old ladies who want to talk. Everyone tells things to witches. So listen to everyone and dont say much and think about what they say and how they say it and watch their eyes…. It becomes like a big jigsaw puzzle, but youre the only one who can see all the pieces. Youll know what they want you to know, and what they dont want you to know, and even what they think no one knows. Thats why we go around the houses. Thats why you will go around the houses, until youre part of their lives. "

  "All this just to get some power over a crowd of farmers and peasants?" Tiffany spun around and kicked a chair so hard that it broke a leg. Annagramma backed away quickly. "What did you do that for?"

  "Youre clever—you guess!"

  "Oh, I forgot…your father is a shepherd…"

  "Good! You remembered!" Tiffany hesitated. Certainty was pouring into her brain, courtesy of her Third Thoughts. Suddenly she knew Annagramma. "And your father?" she asked. "What?" Annagramma instinctively drew herself up. "Oh, he owns several farms—"

  "Liar!"

  "Well, perhaps I should say he is a farmer—" the girl began, nervousness beginning to show. "Liar!" Annagramma backed away. "How dare you talk to me like—"

  "How dare you not tell me the truth!" In the pause that opened, Tiffany heard everything—the faint crackle of wood in the stove, the sound of mice in the cellar, her own breathing roaring like the sea in a cave…. "He works for a farmer, all right?" said Annagramma quickly, and then looked shocked at her own words. "We dont have any land, we dont even own the cottage. Theres the truth, if you want it. Happy now?"

  "No. But thank you," said Tiffany. "Are you going to tell the others?"

  "No. It doesnt matter. But Granny Weatherwax wants you to make a mess of all this, do you understand? Shes got nothing against you…" Tiffany hesitated, then went on, "I mean, nothing more than she has against everyone. She just wants people to see that Mrs. Earwigs style of witchcraft doesnt work. This is just like her! Shes not said a word against you, shes just let you have exactly what you wanted. Its like a story. Everyone knows that if you get exactly what you wish for, it all goes bad. And you wished for a cottage. And youre going to mess it up. "

  "I just need another day or two to get the hang—"

  "Why? Youre a witch with a cottage. Youre supposed to be able to deal with it! Why take it on if you couldnt do it?" Youre supposed to be able to deal with it, sheep girl! Why take it on if you couldnt do it? "So youre not going to help me?" Annagramma glared at Tiffany, and then her expression, most unusually, softened a bit and she said, "Are you all right?" Tiffany blinked. Its horrible to have your own voice echo back at you from the other side of your mind. "Look, I havent got time," she said weakly. "Maybe the others can…help out?"

  "I dont want them to know!" Panic cut curves on Annagrammas face. She can do magic, Tiffany thought. Shes just not good at witchcraft. Shell make a mess of it. Shell make a mess of people. She gave in. "All right, I can probably spare some time. Theres not many chores to do at Tir Nani Ogg. And Ill explain things to the others. Theyll have to know. Theyll probably help. You learn fast—you could pick up the basic stuff in a week or so. " Tiffany watched Annagrammas face. She was actually thinking about it! If she were drowning and you threw her a rope, shed complain if it was the wrong color…. "Well, if they are just helping me…" Annagramma said, brightening up. You could almost admire the girl for the way she could rearrange the real world in her head. Another story, thought Tiffany; its all about Annagramma. "Yes, well be helping you. " She sighed. "Perhaps we could even tell people that you girls are coming to me to learn things?" said Annagramma hopefully. People said that you should always count up to ten before losing your temper. But if it was Annagramma you were dealing with, you had to know some bigger numbers, like perhaps a million. "No," said Tiffany, "I dont think well do that. You are the one doing the learning. " Annagramma opened her mouth to argue, saw the look on Tiffanys face, and decided not to. "Er, yes," she said. "Of course. Er…thank you. " That was a surprise. "They probably will help," said Tiffany. "It wont look good if one of us fails. " To her amazement, the girl really was crying. "Its just that I didnt really think they were my friends…. "

  "I dont like her," said Petulia, who was knee-deep in pigs. "She calls me the pig witch. "

  "Well, you are a pig witch," said Tiffany, who was standing outside the pigpen. The big shed was full of pigs. The noise was nearly as bad as the smell. Fine snow, like dust, was falling outside. "Yes, but when she says it, theres a good deal too much pig and not enough witch," said Petulia. "Every time she opens her mouth, I think Ive done something wrong. " She waved a hand in a pigs face and muttered a few words. The animals eyes crossed and it opened its mouth. It got a large dose of green liquid from a bottle. "We cant just leave her to struggle," said Tiffany. "People might get hurt. "

  "Well, that wouldnt be our fault, would it?" said Petulia, dosing another pig. She cupped her hands and shouted over the din to a man at the other end of the pens: "Fred, this lots done!" Then she climbed out of the pen, and Tiffany saw that shed got her dress tucked up to her waist and was wearing a pair of heavy leather britches under it. "Theyre making a real fuss this morning," she said. "Sounds like theyre getting a bit frisky. "

  "Frisky?" said Tiffany. "Oh…yes. "

  "Listen, you can hear the boars yelling in their shed," said Petulia. "They can smell the spring. "

  "But its not even Hogswatch yet!"

  "Its the day after tomorrow. Anyway the springtime sleeps under the snow, my dad always says," said Petulia, washing her hands in a bucket. No ums, said Tiffanys Third Thoughts. When shes working, Petulia never says "um. " Shes certain of things when shes working. She stands up straight. Shes in charge. "Look, it will be our fault if we can see something wrong and dont do anything about it," said Tiffany. "Oh, Annagramma again," said Petulia. She shrugged. "Look, I can go over there maybe once a week after Hogswatch and show her some of the basic stuff. Will that make you happy?"

  "Im sure shell be grateful. "

  "Im sure she wont be. Have you asked any of the others?" file:///F|/MUSIC/Pratchett,%20Terry%20-%20[Discworld. . . ]%20-%20Wintersmith%20[html,%20jpg]/wintersmith. html (180 of 269)26/12/2006 19:25:36

  Wintersmith "No. I thought that if they knew youd agreed, they probably would, too," said Tiffany. "Hah! Well, I suppose that at least we can say we tried. You know, I used to think Annagramma was really clever because she knew a lot of words and could do sparkly spells? But show her a sick pig and shes useless!" Tiffany told her about Mrs. Stumpers pig and Petulia looked shocked. "We cant have that sort of thing," she said. "In a tree? Perhaps Ill try to drop in this afternoon then. " She hesitated. "You know Granny Weatherwax wont be happy about this? Do we want to be caught between her and Mrs. Earwig?"

  "Are we doing the right thing or not?" said Tiffany. "Anyway, whats the worst she could do to us?" Petulia gave a short laugh with no humor in it at all. "Well," she said, "first, she could make our—"

  "She wont. "

  "I wish I was as sure as you," said Petulia. "All right, then. For Mrs. Stumpers pig. " Tiffany flew above the treetops, and the occasional high twig brushed against her boots. There was just enough winter sunshine to make the snow crisp and glittery, like a frosted cake. It had been a busy morning. The coven hadnt been very interested in helping Annagramma. The coven itself seemed a long time ago. It had been a busy winter. "All we did was muck about while Annagramma bossed us around," Dimity Hubbub had said, while g
rinding minerals and very carefully tipping them, a bit at a time, into a tiny pot being heated by a candle. "Im too busy to mess around with magic. It never did anything useful. You know her trouble? She thinks you can be a witch by buying enough things. "

  "She just needs to learn how to deal with people," said Tiffany. At this point, the pot exploded. "Well, I think we can safely say that wasnt your everyday toothache cure," said Dimity, picking bits of pot out of her hair. "All right, I can spare the odd day, if Petulias doing it. But it wont do much good. " Lucy Warbeck was lying full length and fully clothed in a tin bath full of water when Tiffany came by. Her head was all the way under the surface, but when she saw Tiffany peering in, she held up a sign saying IM NOT DROWNING! Miss Tick had said she would make a good witch finder, so she was training hard. "I dont see why we should help Annagramma," she said as Tiffany helped her get dry. "She just likes putting people down with that sarcastic voice of hers. Anyway, whats it to you? You know she doesnt like you. "

  "I thought weve always got on…more or less," said Tiffany. "Really? You can do stuff she cant even attempt! Like that thing where you go invisible…you do it and you make it look easy! But you come along to the meetings and act like the rest of us and help clear up afterward, and that drives her mad!"

  "Look, I dont understand what youre going on about. " Lucy picked up another towel. "She cant stand the idea that someones better than her but doesnt crow about it. "

  "Why should I do that?" said Tiffany, bewildered. "Because thats what shed do, if she was you," said Lucy, carefully pushing the knife and fork back into her piled-up hair. * "She thinks youre laughing at her. And now, oh my word, shes got to depend on you. You might as well have pushed pins up her nose. " But Petulia had signed up, and so Lucy and the rest of them did, too. Petulia had become the big success story since shed won the Witch Trials with her famous Pig Trick two years ago. Shed been laughed at —well, by Annagramma, and everyone else had sort of grinned awkwardly—but shed stuck to what she was good at and people were saying that shed got skills with animals that even Granny Weatherwax couldnt match. Shed got solid respect, too. People didnt understand a lot of what witches did, but anyone who could get a sick cow back on its feet…well, that person was someone you looked up to. So for the whole coven, after Hogswatch, it was going to be All About Annagramma time. Tiffany flew back toward Tir Nani Ogg with her head spinning. Shed never thought anyone could be envious of her. Okay, shed picked up one or two things, but anyone could do them. You just had to be able to switch yourself off. Shed sat on the sand of the desert behind the Door, shed faced dogs with razor teeth…they were not things she wanted to remember. And on top of all that, there was the Wintersmith. He couldnt find her without the horse, everyone was sure of that. He could speak in her head, and she could speak to him, but that was a kind of magic and didnt have anything to do with maps. Hed been quiet for a while. He was probably building icebergs. She landed the broomstick on a small bald hill among the trees. There was no cottage to be seen. She climbed off the stick but held on to it, just in case. The stars were coming out. The Wintersmith liked clear nights. They were colder. And the words came. They were her words in her voice and she knew what they meant, but they had a sort of echo. "Wintersmith! I command you!" As she blinked at the high-toned way the words had sounded, the reply came back. The voice was all around her. Who commands the Wintersmith? "I am the Summer Lady. " Well, she thought, Im a sort of stand-in. Then why do you hide from me? "I fear your ice. I fear your chill. I run from your avalanches. I hide from your storms. " Ah, right. This is goddess talk. Live with me in my world of ice! "How dare you order me! Dont you dare to order me!" But you chose to dwell in my winter…. The Wintersmith sounded uncertain. "I go where I please. I make my own way. I seek the leave of no man. In your country you will honor me —or there will be a reckoning!" And that bit is mine, Tiffany thought, pleased to get a word in. There was a long silence, filled with uncertainty and puzzlement. Then the Wintersmith said: How may I serve you, my lady? "No more icebergs looking like me. I dont want to be a face that sinks a thousand ships. " And the frost? May we share the frosts? And the snowflakes? "Not the frosts. You must not write my name on windows. That can only lead to trouble. " But I may be permitted to honor you in snowflakes? "Er…" Tiffany stopped. Goddesses shouldnt say "er," she was sure of that. "Snowflakes will be…acceptable," she said. After all, she thought, its not as though they have my name on them. I mean, most people wont notice, and if they do they wont know its me. Then there will be snowflakes, my lady, until the time we dance again. And we will, for I am making myself a man! The voice of the Wintersmith…went. Tiffany was alone again among the trees. Except…she wasnt. "I know youre still there," she said, her breath leaving a sparkle in the air. "You are, arent you? I can feel you. Youre not my thoughts. Im not imagining you. The Wintersmith has gone. You can speak with my mouth. Who are you?" The wind made snow fall from the trees nearby. The stars twinkled. Nothing else moved. "You are there," said Tiffany. "Youve put thoughts in my head. Youve even made my own voice speak to me. Thats not going to happen again. Now that I know the feeling, I can keep you out. If you have anything to say to me, say it now. When I leave here, I will shut my mind to you. I will not let—" How does it feel to be so helpless, sheep girl? "You are Summer, arent you?" said Tiffany. And you are like a little girl dressing in her mothers clothes, little feet in big shoes, dress trailing in the dirt. The world will freeze because of a silly child— Tiffany did—something that it would be impossible for her to describe, and the voice ended up like a distant insect. It was lonely on the hill, and cold. And all you could do was keep going. You could scream, cry, and stamp your feet, but apart from making you feel warmer, it wouldnt do any good. You could say it was unfair, and that was true, but the universe didnt care because it didnt know what "fair" meant. That was the big problem about being a witch. It was up to you. It was always up to you. Hogswatch came, with more snow and some presents. Nothing from home, even though some coaches were getting through. She told herself there was probably a good reason, and tried to believe it. It was the shortest day of the year, which was convenient because it fitted neatly with the longest night. This was the heart of winter, but Tiffany didnt expect the present that arrived the next day. It had been snowing hard, but the evening sky was pink and blue and freezing. It came out of the pink evening sky with a whistling noise and landed in Nanny Oggs garden, throwing up a shower of dirt and leaving a big hole. "Well, thats good-bye to the cabbages," said Nanny, looking out the window. Steam was rising from the hole when they went outside, and there was a strong smell of sprouts. Tiffany peered through the steam. Dirt and stalks covered the thing, but she could make out something rounded. She let herself slide farther into the hole, right down amid the mud and steam and the mysterious thing. It wasnt very hot now, and as she scraped stuff away, she began to have a nasty feeling that she knew what it was. It was, she was sure, the "thingy" that Anoia had talked about. It looked mysterious enough. And as it emerged from the mud, she knew shed seen it before. "Are you all right down there? I cant see you for all this steam!" Nanny Ogg called. By the sound of it, the neighbors had come running; there was some excited chattering. Tiffany quickly scraped mud and mashed cabbages over the arrival and called up, "I think this might explode. Tell everyone to get indoors! And then reach down and grab my hand, will you?" There was some shouting above her and the sound of running feet. Nanny Oggs hand appeared, waving around in the fog, and between them they got Tiffany out of the hole. "Shall we hide under the kitchen table?" said Nanny as Tiffany tried to brush mud and cabbage off her dress. Then Nanny winked. "If it is going to explode?" Her son Shawn came around the house with a bucket of water in each hand and stopped, looking disappointed that there was nothing to do with them. "What was it, Mum?" he panted. Nanny looked at Tiffany, who said: "Er…a giant rock fell out of the sky. "