'Of course not.'
'Well, then...' Nanny Ogg shrugged. 'Best of luck in Uberwald, then.'
'Om will go with me, I'm sure,' said Oats. He was interested in how annoyed you could make Nanny by speaking calmly to her, and wondered if Granny Weatherwax had tried it.
'I hope he does,' said Nanny. 'I person'ly don't want him hanging around here.'
When she'd gone Oats lit a fire of the horrible bed and stuck the songbooks around it to dry out.
'Hello...'
The thing about a witch in darkness is that all you see is her face, bobbing towards you, surrounded by black. Then a little contrast reasserted itself, and an area of shadow detached from the rest and became Agnes.
'Oh, good evening,' said Oats. 'Thank you for coming. I've never heard anyone singing in harmony with themselves before.'
Agnes coughed nervously.
'Are you really going on into Uberwald?'
'There's no reason to stay here, is there?'
Agnes's left arm twitched a few times. She steadied it with her right hand.
'S'pose not,' she said, in a small voice. 'No! Shut up! This is not the time!'
'I beg your pardon?'
'I was, um, just talking to myself,' said Agnes wretchedly. 'Look, everyone knows you helped Granny. They just pretend they don't.'
'Yes. I know.'
'You don't mind?'
Oats shrugged. Agnes coughed.
'I thought perhaps you were going to stay on here for a while.'
'There'd be no point. I'm not needed here.'
'I shouldn't think vampires and so on would be very keen on singing hymns,' said Agnes quietly.
'Perhaps they can learn something else,' said Oats. 'I shall see what may be done.'
Agnes stood hesitantly for a few moments.
'I've got to give you this,' she said, suddenly handing over a small bag. Oats reached inside and took out a small jar.
Inside, a phoenix feather burned, lighting up the field with a clear, cool light.
'It's from-' Agnes began.
'I know who it's from,' said Oats. 'Is Mistress Weatherwax all right? I didn't see her here.'
'Er... she's been having a rest today.'
'Well, thank her from me, will you?'
'She said it's to take into dark places.'