'Yeah, like cattle. I reckon our best bet is to walk out bold as brass,' said Nanny. 'These folk don't look like they're big on original thinkin'. Ready?' She absentmindedly took a swig from the bottle she was carrying. 'You just follow me.'
'But look, what about Verence? I can't just leave him. He's my husband!'
'What will they do to him that you could prevent if you was here?' said Nanny. 'Keep the baby safe, that's the important thing. It always has been. Anyway... I told you, he's got protection. I saw to that.'
'What, magic?'
'Much better'n that. Now, you just follow me and act snooty. You must've learned that, bein' a queen. Never let 'em even think you haven't got a right to be where you are.'
She strode out into the kitchen. The shabbily dressed people there gave her a dull-eyed look, like dogs waiting to see if a whipping was in prospect. On the huge stove, in place of Mrs Scorbic's usual array of scoured-clean pots, was a large, blackened cauldron. The contents were a basic grey. Nanny wouldn't have stirred it for a thousand dollars.
'Just passing through,' she said sharply. 'Get on with whatever you were doing.'
The heads all turned to watch them. But towards the back of the kitchen a figure unfolded from the old armchair where Mrs Scorbic sometimes held court and ambled towards them.
'Oh, blast, it's one of the bloody hangers-on,' said Nanny. 'He's between us and the door...'
'Ladies!' said the vampire, bowing. 'May I be of assistance?'
'We were just leaving,' said Magrat haughtily.
'Possibly not,' said the vampire.
' 'scuse me, young man,' said Nanny, in her soft old biddy voice, 'but where are you from?'
'Uberwald, madam.'
Nanny nodded and referred to a piece of paper she'd pulled out of her pocket. 'That's nice. What part?'
'Klotz.'
'Really? That's nice. 'scuse me.' She turned her back and there was a brief twanging of elastic before she turned round again, all smiles.
'I just likes to take an interest in people,' she said. 'Klotz, eh? What's the name of that river there? The Um? The Eh?'
'The Ah,' said the vampire.
Nanny's hand shot forward and wedged something yellow between the vampire's teeth. He grabbed her but, as she was dragged forward, she hit him on the top of the head.
He fell to his knees, clutching at his mouth and trying to scream through the lemon he'd just bitten into.
'Seems an odd superstition, but there you are,' said Nanny, as he started to foam around the lips.
'You have to cut their heads off, too,' said Magrat.
'Really? Well, I saw a cleaver back there-'
'Shall we just go?' Magrat suggested. 'Before someone else comes, perhaps?'
'All right. He's not a high-up vampire, anyway,' said Nanny dismissively. 'He's not even wearing a very interestin' waistcoat.'
The night was silver with rain. Heads down, the witches dashed through the murk.
'I've got to change the baby!'
'For a raincoat'd be favourite,' muttered Nanny. 'Now?'
'It's a bit urgent...'