Hogfather

     THAT   IS  PRECISELY   CORRECT,   he  confirmed,  with  anthropological exactitude.

     'Except for the bananas, of course. I wouldn't keep fish in my desk.'

     Death looked down at the list and then back up at Ridcully.

     GOOD? he said, in the hope that this was the right response.

     Wizards  know  when they are  going  to die.[22]  Ridcully had no  such premonitions, and to Ponder's horror prodded Death in the cushion.

     'Why you?' he said. 'What's happened to the other fellow?'

I SUPPOSE I MUST TELL YOU.

     In the house  of Death, a  whisper  of  shifting sand and the  faintest chink of moving glass, somewhere in the darkness of the floor...

     And, in the dry shadows, the sharp smell of snow and a thud of hooves.

     Sideney almost swallowed his tongue when Teatime appeared beside him.

     'Are we making progress?'

     'Gnk...'

     'I'm sorry?' said Teatime.

     Sideney  recovered  himself. 'Er...  some,'  he said.  'We think  we've worked out... er... one lock.'

     Light gleamed off Teatime's eye.

     'I believe there are seven of them?' said the Assassin.

     'Yes, but... they're half magic and  half real  and half not there... I mean... there's parts of them that don't exist all the time...'

     Mr Brown, who had been working at one of the locks, laid down his pick.

     '  't's  no good, mister,'  he said. 'Can't  even get a purchase with a crowbar.  Maybe  if I went back to the city and got a  couple  of dragons we could do something. You  can melt through steel with them if you twist their necks right and feed 'em carbon.'

     'I was told you were the best locksmith in the city,' said Teatime.

     Behind him, Banjo shifted position.

     Mr Brown looked annoyed...

     'Well, yes,' he said. 'But locks  don't generally alter 'emselves while you're working on 'em, that's what I'm saying.'

     'And I thought you could open any lock anyone ever made,' said Teatime.

     'Made by humans,' said Mr Brown sharply. 'And most dwarfs. I dunno what made these. You never said anything about magic.'

     'That's  a shame,' said Teatime.  'Then really  I have no  more need of your services. You may as well go back home.'

     'I won't  be sorry.' Mr Brown started putting things back into his tool bag. 'What about my money?'

     'Do I owe you any?'

     'I came  along with  you.  I don't  see it's my fault that  this is all magic business. I should get something.'

     'Ah, yes,  I  see your point,' said Teatime. 'Of course, you should get what you deserve. Banjo?'

     Banjo lumbered forward, and then stopped.

     Mr Brown's hand had come out of the bag holding a crowbar.

     'You  must think I  was born yesterday, you  slimy  little  bugger,' he said. 'I know  your type.  You  think it's all some  kind of game.  You make little  jokes  to yourself and  you think no one else notices and  you think you're so smart. Well, Mr Teacup, I'm leaving, right? Right now. With what's coming to  me. And you ain't stopping me. And Banjo certainly ain't. I  knew old  Ma Lilywhite back in the good old  days. You  think  you're  nasty? You think you're mean? Ma Lilywhite'd  tear your  ears  off and spit 'em in your eye,  you cocky little devil. And I worked with her, so you don't  scare  me and nor does little Banjo, poor sod that he is.'

     Mr  Brown glared  at each  of them in  turn, flourishing  the  crowbar. Sideney cowered in front of the doors.

     He saw Teatime nod gracefully, as if the man had made a small speech of thanks.

     'I  appreciate your point  of  view,' said Teatime.  'And,  I  have  to repeat, it's Teh-ah-tim-eh. Now, please, Banjo.'

     Banjo  loomed  over  Mr Brown, reached down  and  lifted  him up by the crowbar so sharply that his feet came out of his boots.

     'Here,  you  know  me,  Banjo!' the  locksmith  croaked, struggling  in mid-air.  'I  remembers  you  when you was  little, I used  to sit you on my knees, I often used to work for your ma...'

     'D'you like apples?' Banjo rumbled.

     Brown struggled.

     'You got to say yes,' Banjo said.

     'Yes!'

     'D'You like pears? You got to say yes.'

     'All right, yes!'

     'D'you like falling down the stairs?'

     Medium Dave held up his hands for quiet.

     He glared at the gang.

     'This place is getting to you, right? But we've all been in bad  places before, right?'

     'Not this  bad,'  said Chickenwire. 'I've never been  anywhere where it hurts to look at the sky. It give me the creeps.'

     'Chick's a little baby, nyer nyer nyer,' sang Careers.

     They looked at him. He coughed nervously.

     'Sorry... don't know why I said that. .

     'If we stick together we'll be fine-'

     'Teeny meeny minty me...' mumbled Catseye.

     'What? What are you talking about?'

     'Sorry... it just sort of slipped out...'

     'What I'm trying to say,' said Medium Dave, 'is that if-- '

     'Peachy keeps making faces at me!'

     'I didn't!'

     'Liar, liar, pants on fire!'

     Two things happened  at this  point.  Medium Dave lost his temper,  and Peachy screamed.

     A small wisp of smoke was rising from his trousers.

     He hopped around, beating desperately at himself.

     'Who did that? Who did that?' demanded Medium Dave.

     'I didn't see anyone,' said Chickenwire. 'I mean, no  one was near him. Catseye said "pants on fire" and next minute...'