Hogfather

     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!'

NO.

     'There's no magic that'll stop the sun coming up!'

I WISH I WAS AS CLEVER AS YOU.

     Susan stared down out of sheer annoyance, and saw something below.

     Small dark  shapes moved across the whiteness, running as if  they were in pursuit of something.

     'There's...  some sort of chase...'  she conceded. 'I can see some sort of animals but I can't see what they're after...'

     Then she  saw  movement in  the snow, a blurred, dark shape dodging and skidding and never clear.  Binky dropped until his hooves grazed the tops of the pine  trees, which bent  in his  wake. A rumble followed  him across the forest, dragging broken branches and a smoke of snow behind it.

     Now they were lower she could see the hunters clearly. They  were large dogs. Their quarry was indistinct, dodging  among snowdrifts, keeping to the cover of snow-laden bushes.

     A drift exploded. Something  big  and long and blue-black  rose through the flying snow like a sounding whale.

     'It's a pig!'

     A BOAR. THEY DRIVE IT TOWARDS THE CLIFF. THEY'RE DESPERATE NOW.

     She could hear the  panting of the creature. The dogs  made no sound at all.

     Blood streamed onto the  snow from the wounds they had already  managed to inflict.

     'This... boar,' said Susan. It's . .

YES.

     'They want to kill the Hogf...'

NOT KILL.  HE KNOWS HOW TO DIE. OH, YES... IN THIS SHAPE, HE  KNOWS HOW TO DIE. HE'S HAD A LOT OF EXPERIENCE. NO, THEY  WANT  TO  TAKE AWAY HIS REAL LIFE, TAKE AWAY HIS SOUL, TAKE AWAY EVERYTHING. THEY MUST  NOT BE ALLOWED TO BRING HIM DOWN.

     'Well, stop them!'

YOU MUST. THIS IS A HUMAN THING.

     The  dogs moved  oddly. They weren't running  but flowing, crossing the snow faster than the mere movement of their legs would suggest.

     'They don't look like real dogs ...

NO.

     'What can I do?'

     Death nodded his head towards the boar. Binky was keeping level with it now, barely a few feet away.

     Realization dawned.

     'I can't ride that!' said Susan.

WHY NOT? YOU HAVE HAD AN EDUCATION.

     'Enough to know that pigs don't let people ride them!'

MERE ACCUMULATION OF OBSERVATIONAL EVIDENCE IS NOT PROOF.

     Susan glanced ahead. The snowfield had a cut-off look.

     YOU MUST, said her grandfather's voice in her head. WHEN HE REACHES THE EDGE THERE HE WILL STAND AT BAY. HE MUST NOT. UNDERSTAND? THESE ARE NOT REAL DOGS. IF THEY CATCH HIM HE WON'T JUST DIE, HE WILL... NEVER BE...

     Susan leapt. For a moment she floated through the air,  dress streaming behind her, arms outstretched...

     Landing on the animal's back  was like hitting a very, very firm chair. It stumbled for a moment and then righted itself.