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Then, as she hurried towards the body, it faded away, leaving nothing behind but a smear of blood. A jingle noise made her look back up the stairs. Spinning over and over, making salmon leaps in the air, a crowbar bounded over the last dozen steps and landed point first on a flagstone, staying upright and vibrating. Chickenwire reached the top of the stairs, panting. Theres people down there, Mister Teatime! he wheezed. Dave and the othersve gone down to catch them, Mister Teatime!
Teh-ah-tim-eh, said Teatime, without taking his eyes off the wizard. Thats right, sir!
Well? said Teatime. Just. . . do away with them.
Er. . . one of thems a girl, sir. Teatime still didnt look round. He waved a hand vaguely. Then do away with them politely.
Yes, Mister. . . yes, right. . . Chickenwire coughed. Dont you want to find out why theyre here, sir?
Good heavens, no. Why should I want to do that? Now go away. Chickenwire stood there for a moment, and then hurried off. As he scurried down the stairs he thought he heard a creak, as of an ancient wooden door. He went pale. It was just a door, said the sensible bit in front of his brain. There were hundreds of them in this place, although, come to think of it, none of them had creaked. The other bit, the bit that hung around in dark places nearly at the top of his spinal column, said: But its not one of them, and you know it, because you know which door it really is. . . He hadnt heard that creak for thirty years. He gave a little yelp and started to take the stairs four at a time. In the hollows and corners, the shadows grew darker. Susan ran up a flight of stairs, dragging the oh god behind her. Do you know what theyve been doing? she said. You know why theyve got all those teeth in a circle? The power. . . oh my. . .
Im not going to, said the head waiter, firmly. Look, Ill buy you a better pair after Hogswatch-
Theres two more Shoe Pastry, one for Purée de la Terre and three more Tourte à la Boue, said a waiter, hurrying in. Mud pies! moaned the waiter. I cant believe were selling mud pies. And now you want my boots!
With cream and sugar, mind you. A real taste of AnkhMorpork. And we can get at least four helpings off those boots. Fairs fair. Were all in our socks--
Table seven says the steaks were lovely but a bit tough, said a waiter, rushing past. Right. Use a larger hammer next time and boil them for longer. The manager turned back to the suffering head waiter. Look, Bill, he said, taking him by the shoulder. This isnt food. No one expects it to be food. If people wanted food theyd stay at home, isnt that so? They come here for ambience. For the experience. This isnt cookery, Bill. This is cuisine. See? And theyre coming back for more.
Yeah, but old boots . . .
Dwarfs eats rats, said the manager. And trolls eat rocks. Theres folks in Howondaland that eat insects and folks on the Counterweight Continent eat soup made out of bird spit. At least the boots have been on a cow.
And mud? said the head waiter, gloomily. Isnt there an old proverb that says a man must eat a bushel of dirt before he dies?
Yes, but not all at once.
Bill? said the manager, kindly, picking up a spatula. Yes, boss?
Get those damn boots off right now, will you? When Chickenwire reached the bottom of the tower he was trembling, and not just from the effort. He headed straight for the door until Medium Dave grabbed him. Let me out! Its after me!
Look at his face, said Catseye. Looks like hes seen a ghost!
Yeah, well, it aint a ghost, muttered Chickenwire. Its worsen a ghost- Medium Dave slapped him across the face. Pull yourself together! Look around! Nothings chasing you! Anyway, its not as though we couldnt put up a fight, right? Terror had had time to drain away a little. Chickenwire looked back up the stairs. There was nothing there. Good, said Medium Dave, watching his face. Now. . . What happened? Chickenwire looked at his feet. I thought it was the wardrobe, he muttered. Go on, laugh. . . They didnt laugh. What wardrobe? said Catseye. Oh, when I was a kid. . . Chickenwire waved his arms vaguely. We had this big ole wardrobe, if you must know. Oak. It had this. . . this. . . on the door there was this. . . sort of. . . face. He looked at their faces, which were equally wooden. I mean, not an actual face, there was. . . all this. . . decoration round the keyhole, sort of flowers and leaves and stuff, but if you looked at it in the. . . right way. . . it was a face and they put it in my room cos it was so big and in the night. . . in the night. . . in the night- They were grown men or at least had lived for several decades, which in some societies is considered the same thing. But you had to stare at a man so creased up with dread. Yes? said Catseye hoarsely. . . . it whispered things, said Chickenwire, in a quiet little voice, like a vole in a dungeon. They looked at one another. What things? said Medium Dave. I dont know! I always had my head under the pillow! Anyway, its just something from when I was a kid, all right? Our dad got rid of it in the finish. Burned it. And I watched. They mentally shook themselves, as people do when their minds emerge back into the light. Its like me and the dark, said Catseye. Oh, dont you start, said Medium Dave. Anyway, you aint afraid of the dark. Youre famed for it. I been working with you in all kinds of cellars and stuff. I mean, thats how you got your name. Catseye. Sees like a cat.
Yeah, well. . . you try an make up for it, dont you? said Catseye. "Cos when youre grown you know its just shadows and stuff. Besides, it aint like the dark we used to have in the cellar.
Oh, they had a special kind of a dark when you was a lad, did they? said Medium Dave. Not like the kind of dark you get these days, eh? Sarcasm didnt work. No, said Catseye, simply. It wasnt. In our cellar, it wasnt.
Our mam used to wallop us if we went down to the cellar, said Medium Dave. She had her still down there.
Yeah? said Catseye, from somewhere far off. Well, our dad used to wallop us if we tried to get out. Now shut up talking about it. They reached the bottom of the stairs. There was an absence of anybody. And any body. He couldnt have survived that, could he? said Medium Dave. I saw him as he went past, said Catseye. Necks arent supposed to bend that way- He squinted upwards. Whos that moving up there?
How are their necks moving? quavered Chickenwire. Split up! said Medium Dave. And this time all take a stairway. Then they cant come back down!
Whore they? Whyre they here?
Whyre we here? said Peachy. He started, and looked behind him. Taking our money? After us putting up with him?
Yeah. . . said Peachy distantly, trailing after the others. Er. . . did you hear that noise just then?
What noise?
A sort of clipping, snipping. . . ?
No.
No.
No. You must have imagined it. Peachy nodded miserably. As he walked up the stairs, little shadows raced through the stone and followed his feet. Susan darted off the stairs and dragged the oh god along a corridor lined with white doors. I think they saw us, she said. And if theyre tooth fairies theres been a really stupid equal opportunities policy. . . She pushed open a door. There were no windows to the room, but it was lit perfectly well by the walls themselves. Down the middle of the room was something like a display case, its lid gaping open. Bits of card littered the floor. She reached down and picked one up and read: Thomas Ague, aged 4 and nearly three quarters, 9 Castle View, Sto Lat. The writing was in a meticulous rounded script. She crossed the passage to another room, where there was the same scene of devastation. So now we know where the teeth were, she said. They mustve taken them out of everywhere and carried them downstairs.
What for? She sighed. Its such old magic it isnt even magic any more, she said. If youve got a piece of someones hair, or a nail clipping, or a tooth you can control them. The oh god tried to focus. That heaps controlling millions of children?
Yes. Adults too, by now.
And you. . . you could make them think things and do things? She nodded. Yes.
You could get them to open Dads wallet and post the contents to some address?
Well, I hadnt thought of that, but yes, I suppose you could. . .
Or go dow
nstairs and smash all the bottles in the drinks cabinet and promise never to take a drink when they grow up? said the oh god hopefully.
What are you talking about?
Its all right for you. You dont wake up every morning and see your whole life flush before your eyes. Medium Dave and Catseye ran down the passage and stopped where it forked. You go that way, Ill-
Why dont we stick together? said Catseye. Whats got into everyone? I saw you bite the throats out of a coupla guard dogs when we did that job in Quirm! Want me to hold your hand? You check the doors down there, Ill check them along here. He walked off. Catseye peered down the other passage. There werent many doors down there. It wasnt very long. And, as Teatime had said, there was nothing dangerous here that they hadnt brought with them. He heard voices coming from a doorway and sagged with relief. He could deal with humans. As he approached, a sound made him look round. Shadows were racing down the passage behind him. They cascaded down the walls and flowed over the ceiling. Where shadows met they became darker. And darker. And rose. And leapt. What was that? said Susan. Sounded like the start of a scream, said Bilious. Susan threw open the door. There was no one outside. There was movement, though. She saw a patch of darkness in the corner of a wall shrink and fade, and another shadow slid around the bend of the corridor. And there was a pair of boots in the centre of the corridor. She hadnt remembered any boots there before. She sniffed. The air tasted of rats, and damp, and mould. Lets get out of here, she said. Howre we going to find this Violet in all these rooms?
I dont know. I should be able to. . . sense her, but I cant. Susan peered around the end of the corridor. She could hear men shouting, some way off. They slipped out on to the stairs again and managed another flight. There were more rooms here, and in each one a cabinet that had been broken open. Shadows moved in the corners. The effect was as though some invisible light source was gently shifting. This reminds me a lot of your. . . um. . . of your grandfathers place, said the oh god. I know, said Susan. There arent any rules except the ones he makes up as he goes along. I cant see him being very happy if someone got in and started pulling the library apart- She stopped. When she spoke again her voice had a different tone. This is a childrens place, she said. The rules are what children believe.
Well, thats a relief.
You think so? Things arent going to be right. In the Soul Cake Ducks country ducks can lay chocolate eggs, in the same way that Deaths country is black and sombre because thats what people believe. Hes very conventional about that sort of thing. Skull and bone decorations all over the place. And this place--
Pretty flowers and an odd sky.
I think its going to be a lot worse than that. And very odd, too.
More odd than it is now?
I dont think its possible to die here.
That man who fell down the stairs looked pretty dead to me.
Oh, you die. But not here. You. . . lets see. . . yes. . . you go somewhere else. Away. Youre just not seen any more. Thats about all you understand when youre three. Grandfather said it wasnt like that fifty years ago. He said you often couldnt see the bed for everyone having a good cry. Now they just tell the child that Grandmas gone. For three weeks Twyla thought her uncled been buried in the sad patch behind the garden shed along with Buster and Meepo and all three Bulgies.
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