I Shall Wear Midnight

When Tiffany got back in the hall, the witches were all watching her from the stairs. Tiffany had wondered how Granny and Mrs Proust would get on, given that both of them were as proud as a cat full of sixpences. But they seemed to be getting on well enough in a talking-about-the-weather, the-manners-of-young-people-these-days and the-scandalous-price-of-cheese sort of way. But Nanny Ogg looked unusually worried. Seeing Nanny Ogg looking worried was worrying. It was past midnight — technically speaking, the witching hour. In real life every hour was a witching hour, but nevertheless the way the two hands on the clock stood straight up was slightly eerie.

‘I hear that the lads came back from their stag-night fun,’ said Nanny, ‘but it seems to me they’ve forgotten where they left the groom. I don’t think he is going to go anywhere, though. They are pretty certain they took his trousers down and tied him to something.’ She coughed. ‘That’s generally the usual procedure. Technically the best man is supposed to remember where, but they found him and he can’t remember his own name.’

The clock in the hall struck midnight; it was never on time. Each strike may as well have hit Tiffany’s backbone.

And there, marching towards her, was Preston. And it seemed to Tiffany that for quite some time, wherever she had looked, there was Preston, looking smart and clean and — somehow — hopeful.

‘Look, Preston,’ she said. ‘I haven’t got time to explain things, and I’m not certain you would believe them — no, you probably would believe them if I told you them. I have to go out there to kill that monster before it kills me.’

‘Then I will protect you,’ said Preston. ‘Anyway, my commander-in-chief might be out there somewhere in the pigsty with a sow sniffing his unmentionables! And I represent the temporal power here!’

‘You?’ Tiffany snapped.

Preston stuck out his chest, although it didn’t go very far. ‘As a matter of fact, yes: the lads made me officer of the Watch so that they could all have a drink, and right now the sergeant is in the kitchen, throwing up in the sink. He thought he could outdrink Mrs Ogg!’

He saluted. ‘I’m going out there with you, miss. And you can’t stop me. No offence meant, of course. However by virtue of the power invested in me by the sergeant, in between him throwing up into the sink, I would like to commandeer you and your broomstick to assist me in my search, if that is all right with you?’

It was a dreadful question to ask a witch. On the other hand, it was being asked by Preston. ‘All right then,’ she said, ‘but do try not to scratch it. And there is one thing that I have to do first. Do excuse me.’ She walked a little way over to the open door of the hall and leaned against the cold stonework. ‘I know there are Feegles listening to me,’ she said.

‘Oh aye,’ said a voice about one inch from her ear.

‘Well, I don’t want you to help me tonight. This is a hag thing, you understand?’

‘Oh aye, we seen the big posse of hags. It’s a big hag night the noo.’

‘I must—’ Tiffany began. And then an idea struck her. ‘I have to fight the man with no eyes. And they are here to see how good a fighter I am. And so I mustn’t cheat by using Feegles. That’s an important hag rule. Of course, I respect the fact that cheating is an honourable Feegle tradition, but hags don’t cheat,’ she went on, aware that this was a huge lie. ‘If you help me, they will know, and all the hags will put me to scorn.’

And Tiffany thought, And if I lose, it will be Feegles versus hags, and that’s a battle that the world will remember. No pressure, eh?

Aloud, she said, ‘You understand, right? This once, just this once, you will do as I tell you and not help me.’

‘Aye, we understand ye. But ye ken that Jeannie says we must look out for ye at all times, because ye are our hag o’ the hills,’ said Rob.

‘I’m sorry to say that the kelda is not here,’ said Tiffany, ‘but I am and I have to tell you that if you help me this once I will no longer be your hag o’ the hills. I’m under a geas, ye ken. It’s a hag geas, and that’s a big geas indeed.’ She heard a group groan, and added, ‘I mean it. The chief hag is Granny Weatherwax and you know her.’ There was another groan. ‘There you are then,’ said Tiffany. ‘This time, please, let me do things my way. Is that understood?’

There was a pause, and then the voice of Rob Anybody said, ‘Och aye.’

‘Very well,’ said Tiffany, and took a deep breath and went to find her broomstick.

Taking Preston with her didn’t seem such a good idea as they rose above the roofs of the castle.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that you were scared of flying?’ she said.

‘That’s hardly fair,’ said Preston. ‘This is the first time I’ve ever flown.’