Carpe Jugulum

'I'd like to notice it's there,' said Magrat. 'It's a bridge.'

'We're wasting time,' said Agnes. She strode out over the slabs of stone and stopped halfway.

'Rocks a bit, but it's not too bad,' she called back. 'You just have to-'

The slab shifted under her, and tipped her off.

She flung out her hands and caught the edge of the stone by sheer luck. But, strong though her fingers were, a lot of Agnes was penduluming underneath.

She looked down. She didn't want to, but it was a direction occupying a lot of the world.

The water's about a foot below you, it really is, said Perdita. All you have to do is drop, and you'd be good at that...

Agnes looked down again. The drop was so long that probably no one would hear the splash. It didn't just look deep, it felt deep. Clammy air rose around her. She could feel the sucking emptiness under her feet.

'Magrat threw a stone down there!' she hissed.

Yes, and I saw it fall a few inches.

'Now, I'm lyin' flat and Magrat's holdin' on to my legs,' said Nanny Ogg conversationally, right above her. 'I'm going to grab your wrists and, you know, I reckon if you swings a little sideways you ought to get your foot on one of the stone pillars and you'll be right as ninepence.'

'You don't have to talk to me as if I'm some kind of frightened idiot!' snapped Agnes.

'Just tryin' to be pleasant.'

'I can't move my hands!'

'Yes, you can. See, I've got your arm now.'

'I can't move my hands!'

'Don't rush, we've got all day,' said Nanny. 'Whenever you're ready.'

Agnes hung for a while. She couldn't even sense her hands now. That presumably meant that she wouldn't feel it when her grip slipped.

The stones groaned.

'Br... Nanny?'

,Yep?,

'Can you talk to me a bit more as if I'm some kind of frightened idiot?'

'Okay.'

'Er... why do they say right as ninepence"? As opposed to, say, tenpence?'

'Interestin'. Maybe it's-'

'And can you speak up? Perdita's shouting at me that if I drop eighteen inches I'll be standing in the stream!'

'Do you think she's right?'

'Not about the eighteen inches!'

The bridge creaked.

'People seldom are,' said Nanny. 'Are you getting anywhere, dear? Only I can't lift you up, you see. And my arms are going numb, too.'

'I can't reach the pillar!'

'Then let go,' said Magrat, from somewhere behind Nanny.

'Magrat!' snapped Nanny.

'Well, perhaps it is only a little stream to Perdita. Gnarly ground can be two things at the same time, can't it? So if that's how she sees it... well, can't you let her get on with it? Let her sort it out. Can't you let her take over?'

'She only does that when I'm really under stress! Shut up!'

'I only-'

'Not you, her! Oh, no-'

Her left hand, white and almost numb, pulled itself off the stone and out of Nanny's grip.

'Don't let her do this to us!' Agnes shrieked. 'I'll fall hundreds of feet on to sharp rocks!'

'Yes, but since you're going to do that anyway, anything's worth a try, isn't it?' said Nanny. 'I should shut your eyes, if I was you-'

The right hand came loose.

Agnes shut her eyes. She fell.

Perdita opened her eyes. She was standing in the stream.

'Damn!' And Agnes would never say 'damn', which was why Perdita did so at every suitable occasion.

She reached up to the slab just above her, got a grip, and hauled herself up. Then, catching sight of Nanny Ogg's expression, she jerked her hands around into a new position and kicked her legs up.

That stupid Agnes never realizes how strong she is, Perdita thought. There's all these muscles she's afraid of using...

She pushed gently until her toes pointed at the sky and she was doing a handstand on the edge. The effect, she felt, was spoilt by her skirt falling over her eyes.

'You've still got that tear in yer knickers,' said Nanny sharply.

Perdita flicked herself on to her feet.

Magrat had her eyes tight shut. 'She didn't do a handstand on the edge, did she?'

'She did,' said Nanny. 'Now then, A- Perdita, stop that showing off, we've wasted too much time. Let Agnes have the body back, you know it's hers really.'

Perdita did a cartwheel. 'This body's wasted on her,' she said. 'And you should see the stuff she eats! Do you know she's still got two shelves full of soft toys? And dolls? And she wonders why she can't get along with boys!'

'Nothing like being stared at by a teddybear to put a young man off his stroke,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Remember old Mrs Sleeves, Magrat? Used to need two of us when she had one of her nasty turns.'

'What's that got to do with toys?' said Perdita suspiciously.

'And what's it- Oh, yes,' said Magrat.

'Now, I recall that old bellringer down in Ohulan,' said Nanny, leading the way. 'He had no fewer than seven personalities in his head. Three of 'em were women and four of 'em were men. Poor old chap. He said he was always the odd one out. He said they let him get on with all the work and the breathin' and eatin' and they had all the fun. Remember? He said it was hellish when he had a drink and they all started fightin' for a tastebud. Sometimes he couldn't hear himself think in his own head, he said- Now! Now! Now!'

Agnes opened her eyes. Her jaw hurt.

Nanny Ogg was peering at her closely, while rubbing some feeling back into her wrist. From a couple of inches away her face looked like a friendly pile of elderly laundry.

'Yes, that's Agnes,' she said, standing back. 'Her face goes sharper when it's the other one. See? I told you she'd be the one that came back. She's got more practice.'

Magrat let go of her arms. Agnes rubbed her chin.

'That hurt,' she said reproachfully.

'Just a bit of tough love,' said Nanny. 'Can't have that Perdita running around at a time like this.'

'You just sort of grabbed the bridge and came right back up,' said Magrat.

'I felt her stand on the ground!' said Agnes.

'And that too, then,' said Nanny. 'Come on. Not far now. Sometimes. And let's just take it easy, shall we? Some of us might have further to fall than others.'

They edged forward, despite an increasingly insistent voice in Agnes's head that kept telling her she was being a stupid coward and of course she wouldn't be hurt. She tried to ignore it.

The caves that Agnes remembered hadn't been much more than rock overhangs. These were caverns. The difference is basically one of rugged and poetic grandeur. These had a lot of both.

'Gnarly ground's a bit like icebergs,' said Nanny, leading them up a little gully to one of the largest.

'Nine-tenths of it is under water?' said Agnes. Her chin still hurt.

'There's more to it than meets the eye, I mean.'

'There's someone there!' said Magrat.

'Oh, that's the witch,' said Nanny. 'She's not a problem.'

Light from the entrance fell on a hunched figure, sitting among pools of water. Closer to, it looked like a statue, and perhaps not quite as human as the eye at first suggested. Water glistened on it; drops formed on the end of the long hooked nose and fell into a pool with the occasional plink.

'I come up here with a young wizard once, when I was a girl,' said Nanny. 'He liked nothing so much as bashing at rocks with his little hammer... well, almost nothing,' she added, with a smile towards the past and then a happy sigh. 'He said the witch was just a lot of of stuff from the rocks, left there by the water drippin'. But my granny said it was a witch that sat up here to think about some big spell, and she turned to stone. Person'ly, I keep an open mind.'

'It's a long way to bring someone,' said Agnes.

'Oh, there was a lot of us kids at home and it was rainin' a lot and you need a lot of privacy for really good geology,' said Nanny vaguely. 'I think his hammer's still around here somewhere. He quite forgot about it after a while. Mind how you tread, the rocks is very slippery. How's young Esme doing, Magrat?'

'Oh, gurgling away. I'll have to feed her soon.'

'We've got to look after her,' said Nanny.

'Well, yes. Of course.'

Nanny clapped her hands together and pulled them apart gently. The glow between them wasn't the showy light that wizards made, but a grainy graveyard glimmer. It was just enough to ensure that no one fell down a hole.

'Probably some dwarfs in a place like this,' said Magrat, as they picked their way along a tunnel.

'Shouldn't think so. They don't like places that don't stay the same. No one comes up here now but animals and Granny when she wants to be alone with her thoughts.'

'And you when you were banging rocks,' said Magrat.

'Hah! But it was different then. There was flowers on the moor and the bridge was just stepping stones. That's 'cos I was in love.'

'You mean it really does change because of the way you feel?' said Agnes.

'You spotted it. It's amazing how high and rocky the bridge can be if you're in a bad mood, I know that.'

'I wonder how high it was for Granny, then?'

'Probably clouds could go underneath, girl.'

Nanny stopped where the path forked, and then pointed.

'I reckon she's gone this way. Hold on-'

She thrust out an arm. Stone groaned, and a slab of roof thudded down, throwing up spray and pebbles.

'So we'll just have to climb over this bit, then,' Nanny went on, in the same matter-of-fact tone of voice.

'Something's trying to push us out,' said Agnes.

'But it won't,' said Nanny. 'And I don't think it'll harm us.'

'That was a big slab!' said Agnes.

'Yeah. But it missed us, didn't it?'

There was an underground river further on, sheer white water blurred with speed. It poured around and almost over a dam of driftwood, topped by an inviting long log.

'Look, this isn't safe for the baby!' said Agnes. 'Do you both see that? You're her mother, Magrat!'

'Yes, I know, I was there,' said Magrat, with infuriating calm. 'But this doesn't feel,unsafe. Granny's here somewhere.'

'That's right,' said Nanny. 'Really close now, I think.'

'Yes, but she can't control rivers and rocks-' Agnes began.

'Here? Dunno. Very... responsive place, this.'

They inched their way across the log, passing the baby from one to the other.

Agnes leaned against the stone wall. 'How much further?'

'Well, technic'ly a few inches,' said Nanny. 'That's helpful to know, isn't it?'

'Is it just me,' said Magrat, 'or is it getting warmer?'

'Now that,' said Agnes, pointing ahead, 'I don't believe.'

At the end of a slope a crevasse had opened in the rock. Red light spilled out. As they stared at it, a ball of flame rolled up and burst across the ceiling.

'Oh deary deary me,' said Nanny, who had taken a turn to carry the baby. 'An' it's not even as if there's any volcanoes anywhere near here. What can she be thinking?' She headed purposefully towards the fire.

'Careful!' Agnes shouted. 'Perdita says it's real!'

'What's that got to do with the price of fish?' said Nanny, and stepped into the fire.

The flames snapped out.

The other two stood in the chilly, damp gloom.

Magrat shuddered. 'Nanny, you are carrying the baby.'

'The harm you come to here is what you brings with you,' said Nanny. 'And it's Granny's thoughts that are shaping this place. But she wouldn't raise a hand to a child. Couldn't do it. Hasn't got it in her.'

'This place is reacting to what she's thinking?' said Agnes.

'I reckon so,' said Nanny, setting off again.

'I'd hate to be inside her head!'

'You nearly are,' said Nanny. 'Come on. We've passed the fire. I don't think there'll be anything else.'

They found her in a cavern. It had sand on the floor, smooth and unmarked by anything except one set of footprints. Her hat had been placed neatly beside her. Her head rested on a rolled-up sack. She held a card in stiff hands.

It read:

GOE AWAY

'That's not very helpful,' said Magrat, and sat down with the baby across her lap. 'After all this, too.'

'Can't We wake her up?' said Agnes.

'That's dangerous,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Trying to call her back when she ain't ready to come? Tricky.'

'Well, can we at least take her out of here?'

'She won't bend round corners but, hah, maybe we could use her as a bridge,' said Nanny. 'No, she came here for a reason...'

She pulled the sack out from under Granny's head, which did not move, and opened it.

'Wrinkly apple, bottle of water and a cheese sandwich you could bend horseshoes round,' she said. 'And her old box.'

She set it down on the floor between them.

'What is in there?' said Agnes.

'Oh, keepsakes. Memorororabiliha, like I said. That sort of thing,' said Nanny. 'She always says it's full of things she's got no further use for.' She drummed her fingers on the box as if accompanying a thought on the piano, and then picked it up.

'Should you do that?' said Agnes.

'No,' said Nanny. She lifted out a bundle of papers tied with ribbon and put them on one side.

They all saw the light shining up from underneath. Nanny reached in and took out a small glass medicine bottle, tightly corked, and held it up. A little glow inside was quite bright in the gloom of the cave.

'Seen this bottle before,' said Nanny. 'She's got all kinds of odds and ends in here. Never noticed it glowing, though.'

Agnes took the bottle. Inside there was what looked like a piece of fern, or... no, it was a feather, quite black except for the very tip, which was as yellow and bright as a candle flame.

'Do you know what it is?'

'No. She's always pickin' up stuff. She's had the bottle a long time, 'cos I've seen it in there-'

'I faw her fick it uff-' Magrat removed a safetypin from her mouth. 'I saw her pick that thing up years ago,' she tried again. 'It was around this time of year, too. We were walking back through the woods and there was a shooting star and this sort of light fell off it and we went to look and there it was. It looked like a flame but she was able to pick it up.'

'Sounds like a firebird feather,' said Nanny. 'There used to be old stories about them. They pass through here. But if you touch their feathers you'd better be damn sure of yourself, because the old stories say they burn in the presence of evil-'

'Firebird? You mean a phoenix?' said Agnes. 'Hodgesaargh was going on about one.'

'Haven't seen one go over for years,' said Nanny. 'Sometimes you'd see two or three at a time when I was a girl, just lights flying high up in the sky.'

'No, no, the phoenix... there's only one of it, that's the whole point,' said Agnes.

'One of anything's no bloody use,' said Nanny.

Granny Weatherwax smacked her lips, like someone emerging from a very deep sleep. Her eyelids flickered.

'Ah, I knew opening her box'd work,' said Nanny happily.

Granny Weatherwax's eyes opened. She stared straight up for a moment, and then swivelled them towards Nanny Ogg.

'W't'r,' she mumbled. Agnes hastily passed her the water bottle. She touched Granny's fingers, and they were as chilly as stone.

The old witch took a gulp.

'Oh. It's you three,' she whispered. 'Why did you come here?'

'You told us to,' said Agnes.

'No, I didn't!' Granny snapped. 'Wrote you a note, did I?'

'No, but the stuff-' Agnes stopped. 'Well, we thought you wanted us to.'

'Three witches?' said Granny. 'Well, no reason why not. The maiden, the mother and the-'

'Go carefully,' Nanny Ogg warned.

'-the other one,' said Granny. 'That's up to you, I'm sure. It's not something about which I would venture any sort of opinion. So I expect you've got some dancin' to be doing, and good day to you. I'll have my pillow back, thank you very much.'

'You know there's vampires in Lancre?' Nanny demanded.

'Yes. They got invited.'

'You know they're taking over?'

'Pest'

'So why did you run away up here?' said Agnes.

The temperature of a deep cave should remain constant, but suddenly this one was a lot colder.

'I can go where I like,' said Granny.

'Yes, but you ought-' Agnes began. She wished she could bite the word back, but it was too late.

'Oh, ought, is it? Where does it say ought? I don't remember it saying ought anywhere. Anyone going to tell me where it says ought? There's lots of things that ought, I dare say. But they ain't.'

'You know a magpie stole your invite?' said Nanny. 'Shawn delivered it okay, but them thieving devils had it away and into a nest.'

She flourished the crumpled, smudged yet goldladen invitation.

In the moment of silence Agnes fancied she could hear the stalactites grow.

'Yes, of course I did,' said Granny. 'Worked that out first thing.' But the moment had been just slightly too long, and just slightly too quiet.

'And you know Verence got an Omnian priest in to do the Naming of young Esme?'

Again... fractionally too long, infinitesimally too silent.

'You know I put my mind to business,' said Granny. She glanced at the baby sitting on Magrat's lap.

'Why's she got a pointy head?' she said.

'It's the little hood Nanny knitted for her,' said Magrat. 'It's meant to look like that. Would you like to hold her?'

'She looks comfortable where she is,' said Granny diffidently.

She didn't know the baby's name! Perdita whispered. I told you! Nanny thinks Granny's been in the baby's mind, l can tell by the way she's been looking at her, but if she had she'd know the name and she doesn't, I swear. She wouldn't do anything that might hurt a child...

Granny shook herself. 'Anyway, if there's a problem, well, you've got your three witches. It doesn't say anywhere that one of them ought,' she nodded at Agnes, 'to be Granny Weatherwax. You sort it out. I've been witching in these parts for altogether too long and it's time to... move on... do something else...'

'You're going to hide up here?' said Magrat.

'I'm not going to keep on repeating myself, my girl. People aren't going to tell me what I ought to do no more. I know what's ought and what's not. Your husband invited vampires into the country, did he? That's modern for you. Well, everyone else knows that a vampire don't have no power over you 'less you invite it in, and if it's a king as does the inviting, then they've got their teeth into the whole country. And I'm an ol' woman living in the woods and I've got to make it all better? When there's three of you? I've had a lifetime of ought from can to can't and now it's over, and I'll thank you for gettin' out of my cave. And that's an end of it.'

Nanny glanced at the other two and shrugged.

'Come on, then,' she said. 'If we get a wiggle on we can be back at the broomsticks before dark.'

'Is that all?' said Magrat.

'Things come to an end,' said Granny. 'I'm going to rest up here and then I'm on my way. Plenty of places to go.'

Now get her to tell you the truth, said Perdita. Agnes bit down. Ought had been bad enough.

'So we'll be getting along,' said Nanny. 'Come on.'

'But-'

'But me no buts,' said Nanny. 'As Granny would have said.'

'That's right!' said Granny, lying back.

As they filed back into the caves Agnes heard Perdita start counting.

Magrat patted her pockets. Nanny patted her knickerlegs.

Magrat said, 'Oh, I must have le-'

'Blow, I left my pipe back there,' said Nanny, so quickly that the sentence overtook the one in front.

Five seconds, said Perdita. 'I didn't see you take it out,' said Agnes.

Nanny gave her a piercing look. 'Really? Then I'd better go and leave it there, hadn't I? Was there something you'd left too, Magrat? Never mind, I'll be sure to look for it, whatever it was going to be.'

'Well!' said Magrat, as Nanny darted back.

'Granny was certainly not telling the truth,' said Agnes.

'Of course she wasn't, she never does,' said Magrat. 'She expects you to work it out for yourself.'

'But she's right about us being three witches.'

'Yes, but I never intended to come back to it, I've got other things to do. Oh, perhaps when Esme's older I thought, maybe, a bit of part-time aromatherapy or something, but not serious full-time witching. This power-of-three business is... well, it's very old fashioned...'

And what have we got now? Perdita chimed in. The knowing but technically inexperienced young woman, the harassed young mother and the silver-haired golden alter... doesn't exactly sound mythic, does it? But Magrat just bundled up her little baby as soon as she heard Granny was in trouble and she didn't even stop to worry about her husband...

'Wait a moment... listen,' said Agnes.

'What for?'

'Just listen... the sound echoes in these caves...'

Nanny Ogg sat down on the sand and wriggled slightly to settle in firmly. She took out her pipe.

'So,' she said to the recumbent figure, 'apart from all that, how are you feeling?'

There was no reply.

'Saw Mrs Patternoster this morning,' Nanny went on chattily. 'Her from over in Slice. Just passed the time of day. Mrs ivy is bearing up well, she says.'

She blew out a cloud of smoke.

'I put her right about a few things,' she said.

There was still silence from the shadowy figure.

'The Naming went off all right. The priest's as wet as a snow omelette, though.'

'I can't beat 'em, Gytha,' said Granny. 'I can't beat 'em, and that's a fact.'

One of Nanny Ogg's hidden talents was knowing when to say nothing. It left a hole in the conversation that the other person felt obliged to fill.

'They've got minds like steel. I can't touch 'em. I've been tryin' everything. Every trick I've got! They've been searching for me but they can't focus right when I'm in here. The best one nearly got to me at the cottage. My cottage!'

Nanny Ogg understood the horror. A witch's cottage was her fortress.

'I've never felt anything like it, Gytha. He's had hundreds of years to get good. You noticed the magpies? He's using 'em as eyes. And he's clever, too. He's not going to fall to a garlic sandwich, that one. I can pick up that much. These vampires has learned. That's what they've never done before. I can't find a way into 'em anywhere. They're more powerful, stronger, they think quick... I tell you, going mind to mind with him's like spittin' at a thunderstorm.'

'So what're you going to do?'

'Nothing! There's nothing I can do! Can't you understand what I've been tellin' you? Don't you know I've been lying here all day tryin' to think of something? They know all about magic, Borrowing's second nature to them, they're fast, they think we're like cattle that can talk... I never expected anything like this, Gytha. I've thought about it round and round and there's not a thing I can see to do.'

'There's always a way,' said Nanny.

'I can't see it,' said Granny. 'This is it, Gytha. I might as well lie here until the water drips on me and I go into stone like the ol' witch at the door.'

'You'll find a way,' said Nanny. 'Weatherwaxes don't let 'emselves get beaten. It's something in the blood, like I've always said.'

'I am beaten, Gytha. Even before I start. Maybe someone else has a way, but I haven't. I'm up against a mind that's better'n mine. I just about keep it away from me but I can't get in. I can't fight back.'

The chilly feeling crept over Nanny Ogg that Granny Weatherwax meant it.

'I never thought I'd hear you say that,' she muttered.

'Off you go. No sense in keepin' the baby out in the cold.'

'And what are you going to do?'

'Maybe I shall move on. Maybe I'll just stop here.'

'Can't stop here for ever, Esme.'

'Ask her that is by the door.'

That seemed to be all there was going to be. Nanny walked out, found the others looking slightly too innocent in the next cave, and led the way to the open air.

'Found your pipe, then,' said Magrat.

'Yes, thank you.'

'What's she going to do?' said Agnes.

'You tell me,' said Nanny. 'I knows you was listenin'. You wouldn't be witches if you wasn't listenin' somehow.'

'Well, what can we do that she can't? If she's beaten, then so are we, aren't we?'

'What did Granny mean, "from can to can't"?' said Magrat.

'Oh, from the first moment in the morning when you can see to the last moment in the evenin' when you can't,' said Nanny.

'She's really feeling low, isn't she?'

Nanny paused by the stone witch. Her pipe had gone out. She struck a match on the hooked nose.

'There's three of us,' she said. 'The right number. So we'll start by having a proper coven meetin'...'

'Aren't you worried?' said Agnes. 'She's... giving up... '

'Then it's up to us to carry on, isn't it?' said Nanny.

Nanny had placed the cauldron in the middle of the floor for the look of the thing, although an indoor coven meeting didn't feel right, and one without Granny Weatherwax felt worse.

Perdita said it made them look like soppy girls playing at it. The only fire in the room was in the huge black iron range, the very latest model, recently installed for Nanny by her loving sons. On it, the kettle began to boil.

'I'll make the tea, shall I?' said Magrat, getting up.

'No, you sit down. It's Agnes's job to make the tea,' said Nanny. 'You're the mother, so it's your job to pour.'

'What's your job, Nanny?' said Agnes.

'I drinks it,' said Nanny promptly. 'Right. We've got to find out more while they're still actin' friendly. Agnes, you go back to the castle with Magrat and the baby. She needs extra help anyway.'