Witches Abroad

"Look at it my way," said Lily. "You see this country? It's all swamps and fogs. There's no direction. But I can make this a great city. Not a sprawling place like Ankh-Morpork, but a place that works."

"The girl doesn't want to marry a frog."

"What will that matter in a hundred years' time?"

"It matters now."

Lily threw up her hands. "What do you want, then? It's your choice. There's me... or there's that woman in the swamp. Light or dark. Fog or sunshine. Dark chaos or happy endings."

"He's a frog, and you killed the old Baron," said Granny.

"You'd have done the same," said Lily.

"No," said Granny. "I'd have thought the same, but I wouldn't have done it."

"What difference does that make, deep down?"

"You mean you don't know?" said Nanny Ogg.

Lily laughed.

"Look at the three of you," she said. "Bursting with inefficient good intentions. The maiden, the mother and the crone."

"Who are you calling a maiden?" said Nanny Ogg.

"Who are you calling a mother?" said Magrat.

Granny Weatherwax glowered briefly like the person who has discovered that there is only one straw left and everyone else has drawn a long one.

"Now, what shall I do with you?" said Lily. "I really am against killing people unless it's necessary, but I can't have you running around acting stupidly..."

She looked at her fingernails.

"So I think I shall have you put away somewhere until this has run its course. And then... can you guess what I'm going to do next?

"I'm going to expect you to escape. Because, after all, I am the good one."

Ella walked cautiously through the moonlit swamp, following the strutting shape of Legba. She was aware of movement in the water, but nothing emerged - bad news like Legba gets around, even among alligators.

An orange light appeared irrthe distance. It turned out to be Mrs Gogol's shack, or boat, or whatever it was. In the swamp, the difference between the water and the land was practically a matter of choice.

"Hallo? Is there anyone there?"

"Come along in, child. Take a seat. Rest up a little."

Ella stepped cautiously on to the rocking veranda. Mrs Gogol was sitting in her chair, a white-clad raggedy doll in her lap.

"Magrat said - "

"I know all about it. Come to Erzulie."

"Who are you?"

"I am your - friend, girl."

Ella moved so as to be ready to run.

"You're not a godmother of any kind, are you?"

"No. No gods. Just a friend. Did anyone follow you?"

"I... don't think so."

"It's no matter if they did, girl. No matter if they did. Maybe we ought to move out into the river for a spell, even so. We'll be a lot safer with water all round."

The shack lurched.

"You better sit down. The feets make it shaky until we get into deep water."

Ella risked a look, nevertheless.

Airs Gogol's hut travelled on four large duck feet, which were now rising out of the swamp. They splashed their way through the shallows and, gently, sculled out into the river.

Greebo woke up and stretched.

And the wrong sort of arms and legs!

Mrs Pleasant, who had been sitting watching him, put down her glass.

"What do you want to do now, Mr Cat?" she said.

Greebo padded over to the door into the outside world and scratched at it.

"Waant to go owwwt, Miss-uss Pleas-unt," he said.

"You just have to turn the handle there," she said.

Greebo stared at the door handle like someone trying to come to terms with a piece of very advanced technology, and then gave her a pleading look.

She opened the door for him, stood aside as he slunk out, and then shut it, locked it and leaned against it.

"Ember's bound to be safe with Mrs Gogol," said Magrat.

"Hah!" said Granny.

"I quite liked her," said Nanny Ogg.

"I don't trust anyone who drinks rum and smokes a pipe," said Granny.

"Nanny Ogg smokes a pipe and drinks anything," Magrat pointed out.

"Yes, but that's because she's a disgustin' old baggage," said Granny, without looking up.

Nanny Ogg took her pipe out of her mouth.

"That's right," she said amiably. "You ain't nothing if you don't maintain an image."

Granny looked up from the lock.

"Can't shift it," she said. "It's octiron, too. Can't magic it open."

"It's daft, locking us up," said Nanny. "I'd have had us killed."

"That's because you're basically good," said Magrat. "The good are innocent and create justice. The bad are guilty, which is why they invent mercy."

"No, I know why she's done this," said Granny, darkly. "It's so's we'll know we've lost."

"But she said we'd escape," said Magrat. "I don't understand. She must know the good ones always win in the end!"

"Only in stories," said Granny, examining the door hinges. "And she thinks she's in charge of the stories. She bends them round herself. She thinks she's the good one."

"Mind you," said Magrat, "I don't like swamps. If it wasn't for the frog and everything, I'd see Lily's point - "