Hogfather

He met their astonished gaze. ‘Used to do this on the farm,’ he said. ‘Works a treat on baby goats.’

‘Oh, now, really,’ said the Dean, ‘I don’t—’

The corpse made a noise somewhere between a choke and a cough.

‘Make some space, you fellows!’ the Archchancellor bellowed, clearing an area of table with one sweep of his spare arm.

‘Hey, I hadn’t had any of that Prawn Escoffé!’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

‘I didn’t even know we had any,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘Someone, and I name no names, Dean, shoved it behind the soft-shelled crabs so they could keep it for themselves. I call that cheap.’

Teatime opened his eyes. It said a lot for his constitution that it survived a very close-up view of Ridcully’s nose, which filled the immediate universe like a big pink planet.

‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ said Ponder, leaning over with his notebook open, ‘but this is vitally important for the advancement of natural philosophy. Did you see any bright lights? Was there a shining tunnel? Did any deceased relatives attempt to speak to you? What word most describes the—’

Ridcully pulled him away.

‘What’s all this, Mr Stibbons?’

‘I really should talk to him, sir. He’s had a near-death experience!’

‘We all have. It’s called “living”,’ said the Archchancellor shortly. ‘Pour the poor lad a glass of spirits and put that damn pencil away.’

‘Uh … This must be Unseen University?’ said Teatime. ‘And you are all wizards?’

‘Now, just you lie still,’ said Ridcully. But Teatime had already risen on his elbows.

‘There was a sword,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, it’s fallen on the floor,’ said the Dean, reaching down. ‘But it looks as though it’s— Did I do that?’

The wizards looked at the large curved slice of table falling away. Something had cut through everything — wood, cloth, plates, cutlery, food. The Dean swore that a candle flame that had been in the path of the unseen blade was only half a flame for a moment, until the wick realized that this was no way to behave.

The Dean raised his hand. The other wizards scattered.

‘Looks like a thin blue line in the air,’ he said, wonderingly.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Teatime, taking it from him. ‘I really must be off.’

He ran from the hall.

‘He won’t get far,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘The main doors are locked in accordance with Archchancellor Spode’s Rules.’

‘Won’t get far while holding a sword that appears to be able to cut through anything,’ said Ridcully, to the sound of falling wood.

‘I wonder what all that was about?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, and then turned his attention to the remains of the Feast. ‘Anyway, at least this joint’s been nicely carved …’

‘Bu-bu-bu—’

They all turned. The Bursar was holding his hand in front of him. The cut surface of a fork gleamed at the wizards.

‘Nice to know his new present will come in handy,’ said the Dean. ‘It’s the thought that counts.’

Under the table the Blue Hen of Happiness relieved itself on the Bursar’s foot.

THERE ARE… ENEMIES, said Death, as Binky galloped through icy mountains.

‘They’re all dead—’

OTHER ENEMIES. YOU MAY AS WELL KNOW THIS. DOWN IN THE DEEPEST KINGDOMS OF THE SEA, WHERE THERE IS NO LIGHT, THERE LIVES A TYPE OF CREATURE WITH NO BRAIN AND NO EYES AND NO MOUTH. IT DOES NOTHING BUT LIVE AND PUT FORTH PETALS OF PERFECT CRIMSON WHERE NONE ARE THERE TO SEE. IT IS NOTHING EXCEPT A TINY YES IN THE NIGHT. AND YET … AND YET … IT HAS ENEMIES THAT BEAR ON IT A VICIOUS, UNBENDING MALICE, WHO WISH NOT ONLY FOR ITS TINY LIFE TO BE OVER BUT ALSO THAT IT HAD NEVER EXISTED. ARE YOU WITH ME SO FAR?

‘Well, yes, but—’

GOOD. NOW, IMAGINE WHAT THEY THINK OF HUMANITY.

Susan was shocked. She had never heard her grandfather speak in anything other than calm tones. Now there was a cutting edge in his words.

‘What are they?’ she said.

WE MUST HURRY. THERE IS NOT MUCH TIME.

‘I thought you always had time. I mean … whatever it is you want to stop, you can go back in time and—’

AND MEDDLE?

‘You’ve done it before …’

THIS TIME IT IS OTHERS WHO ARE DOING IT. AND THEY HAVE NO RIGHT.

‘What others?’

THEY HAVE NO NAME. CALL THEM THE AUDITORS. THEY RUN THE UNIVERSE. THEY SEE TO IT THAT GRAVITY WORKS AND THE ATOMS SPIN, OR WHATEVER IT IS ATOMS DO. AND THEY HATE LIFE.

‘Why?’

IT IS … IRREGULAR. IT WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. THEY LIKE STONES, MOVING IN CURVES. AND THEY HATE HUMANS MOST OF ALL. Death sighed. IN MANY WAYS, THEY LACK A SENSE OF HUMOUR.

‘Why the Hog—’

IT IS THE THINGS YOU BELIEVE WHICH MAKE YOU HUMAN. GOOD THINGS AND BAD THINGS, IT’S ALL THE SAME.

The mists parted. Sharp peaks were around them, lit by the glow off the snow.

‘These look like the mountains where the Castle of Bones was,’ she said.

THEY ARE, said Death. IN A SENSE. HE HAS GONE BACK TO A PLACE HE KNOWS. AN EARLY PLACE …

Binky cantered low over the snow.

‘And what are we looking for?’ said Susan.

YOU WILL KNOW WHEN YOU SEE IT.

‘Snow? Trees? I mean, could I have a clue? What are we here for?’

I TOLD YOU. TO ENSURE THAT THE SUN COMES UP.

‘Of course the sun will come up!’