“But that is not his name,” she said.
Granny Weatherwax gave the Queen a bright smile.
“We shall see,” she said. “There's a lot more humans these days, and lots of them live in cities, and they don't know much about elves one way or another. And they've got iron in their heads. You're too late.”
“No. Humans always need us,” said the Queen.
“They don't. Sometimes they want you. That's different. But all you can give 'em is gold that melts away in the morning.”
“There are those who would say that gold for one night is enough.”
“No.”
“Better than iron, you stupid old hag, you stupid child who has grown older and done nothing and been nothing.”
“No. It's just soft and shiny. Pretty to look at and no damn use at all,” said Granny, her voice still quite calm and level. “But this is a real world, madam. That's what I had to learn. And real people in it. You got no right to 'em. People've got enough to cope with just being people. They don't need you swanking around with your shiny hair and shiny eyes and shiny gold, going sideways through life, always young, always singing, never learning.”
“You didn't always think like this.”
“That was a long time ago. And, my lady, old I may be, and hag I may be, but stupid I ain't. You're no kind of goddess. I ain't against gods and goddesses, in their place. But they've got to be the ones we make ourselves. Then we can take 'em to bits for the parts when we don't need 'em anymore, see? And elves far away in fairyland, well, maybe that's something people need to get 'emselves through the iron times. But I ain't having elves here. You make us want what we can't have and what you give us is worth nothing and what you take is everything and all there is left for us is the cold hillside, and emptiness, and the laughter of the elves.”
She took a deep breath. “So bugger off.”
“Make us, old woman.”
“I thought you'd say that.”
“We don't want the world. Just this little kingdom will do. And we will take it, whether it wants us or not.”
“Over my dead body, madam.”
“If that is a condition.”
The Queen lashed out mentally, like a cat.
Granny Weatherwax winced, and leaned backward for a moment.
“Madam?”
“Yes?” said the Queen.
“There aren't any rules, are there?”
“Rules? What are rules?” said the Queen.
“I thought so,” said Granny. “Gytha Ogg?”
Nanny managed to turn her head.
“Yes, Esme?”
“My box. You know. The one in the dresser. You'll know what to do.”
Granny Weatherwax smiled. The Queen swayed sideways, as if she'd been slapped.
“You have learned,” she said.
“Oh, yes. You know I never entered your circle. I could see where it led. So I had to learn. All my life. The hard way. And the hard way's pretty hard, but not so hard as the easy way. I learned. From the trolls and the dwarfs and from people. Even from pebbles.”