It might have been worth a try, said Perdita. He doesn't seem entirely bad.
'Shut up.'
It'd just be nice if you could stop looking as though you were wearing saddlebags under your skirt...
'Shut up.'
And it'd be nice if you didn't hit the rocks like a balloon full of water...
'Shut up. Anyway, I can see a lake. I think I can sort of angle across towards it.'
At this speed it will be like hitting the ground.
'How do you know that? I don't know that. So how do you know?'
Everyone knows that.
Vlad appeared alongside Agnes, lounging on the air as though it were a sofa.
'Enjoying it?' he said.
'It's fine so far,' said Agnes, not looking at him.
She felt him touch her wrist. There was no real sense of pressure, but the fall stopped. She felt as light as the air again.
'Why are you doing this?' she said. 'If you're going to bite me, then get it over with!'
'Oh, but I couldn't be having with that!' s simply a great long lump of iron to accommodate the half-skilled metal-bashing occasionally needed to keep the castle running. Still kneeling, Granny grabbed at it with both hands and laid her forehead against it.
'Granny, what can-' Agnes began.
'Go where the others... are,' Granny Weatherwax croaked. 'It'll need three... witches if this goes... wrong... you'll have to face... something terrible...'
'What terrible thing?'
'Me. Do it now.'
Agnes backed away. On the black iron, by Granny's fingers, little flecks of rust were spitting and jumping.
'I'd better go! Keep an eye on her!'
'But what if-'
Granny flung her head back, her eyes screwed shut.
'Get away!' she screamed.
Agnes went white.
'You heard what she said!' she shouted, and ran out into the rain.
Granny's head slumped forward against the iron again. Around her fingers red sparks danced on the metal.
'Mister priest,' she said in a hoarse whisper. 'Somewhere in this place is an axe. Fetch it here!'
Oats looked around desperately. There was an axe, a small double-headed one, lying by a grindstone.
'Er, I've found one,' he ventured.