Witches Abroad (Discworld 12)

Magrat thought that Ninja was a nice name for a girl.

She squared up to herself in the mirror again.

There was a knock at the door. Magrat went and opened it.

'Hai?' she said.

Hurker the poacher took a step backwards. He was already rather shaken. An angry wolf had trailed him part of the way through the forest.

'Um,' he said. He leaned forward, his shock changing to concern. 'Have you hurt your head, Miss?'

She looked at him in incomprehension. Then realization dawned. She reached up and took off the headband with the chrysanthemum pattern on it, without which it is almost impossible to properly seek cosmic wisdom by twisting an opponent's elbows through 360 degrees.

'No,' she said. 'What do you want?'

'Got a package for you,' said Hurker, presenting it.

It was about two feet long, and very thin.

'There's a note,' said Hurker helpfully. He shuffled around as she unfolded it, and tried to read it over her shoulder.

'It's private,' said Magrat.

'Is it?' said Hurker, agreeably.

'Yes!'

'I was tole you'd give me a penny for delivering it,' said the poacher. Magrat found one in her purse.

'Money forges the chains which bind the labouring classes,' she warned, handing it over. Hurker, who had never thought of himself as a labouring class in his life, but who was prepared to listen to almost any amount of gibberish in exchange for a penny, nodded innocently.

'And I hope your head gets better, Miss,' he said.

When Magrat was left alone in her kitchen-cum-dojo she unwrapped the parcel. It contained one slim white rod.

She looked at the note again. It said, 'I niver had time to Trane a replaysment so youll have to Do. You must goe to the city of Genua. I would of done thys myself only cannot by reason of bein dead. Ella Saturday muste NOTTE marry the prins. PS This is importent.'

She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked down at the note again.

'PSPS Tell those 2 Olde Biddys they are Notte to come with Youe, they will onlie Ruine everythin.'

There was more.

s had herself buried round the back,' said a voice behind her. It was Nanny Ogg.

Granny considered her next move. To point out that Nanny had deliberately come early, so as to search the cottage by herself, then raised questions about Granny's own presence. She could undoubtedly answer them, given enough time. On the whole, it was probably best just to get on with things.

'Ah,' she said, nodding. 'Always very neat in her ways, was Desiderata.'

'Well, it was the job,' said Nanny Ogg, pushing past her and eyeing the room's contents speculatively. 'You got to be able to keep track of things, in a job like hers. By gor', that's a bloody enormous cat.'

'It's a lion,' said Granny Weatherwax, looking at the stuffed head over the fireplace.

'Must've hit the wall at a hell of a speed, whatever it was,' said Nanny Ogg.

'Someone killed it,' said Granny Weatherwax, surveying the room.