The woman unscrewed the top of her flask. 'But you're not about to eat anyone, are you, dear? If you feel really hungry I've got some macaroons.' She looked at the nearest Sister and said, 'What about you, love? I know none of us can help how we're made, but how come you've been made to look like a chicken?'
'Awk! Awk!'
'Danger! Danger!'
'Dunno about that,' said another passenger. 'I don't reckon he's going to do anything.'
'Please, please,' said Nutt. There was a box lying on the road beside him. He tore it open frantically and started to pull things out of it.
They were candles. Knocking them over in his haste, picking them up in shaking fingers only to knock them over again, he finally had them upright on the flints of the road. He pulled matches out of another pocket, knelt down and once again got his shaking fingers tangled in themselves as he struggled to strike a match. Tears streamed down his face as the light of the candles rose.
Rose... and changed.
Blues, yellows, greens. They would go out for a few smoky seconds and then light again a different colour, to the oohs and aahs of the crowd.
'See! See!' said Nutt. 'You like them? You like them?'
'I think you could make yourself a lot of money out of that,' said one of the passengers.
'They're lovely,' said the old lady. 'Honestly, the things you young people can do today.'
Nutt turned to the nearest Sister and spat, 'I am not worthless, I have worth.'
'My brother-in-law runs a novelty shop down in the smoke,' said the erstwhile expert in orcs. 'I'll write his address down for you if you like? But I reckon that thing would go down very well on the kiddies' birthday circuit.'
Glenda had watched all of this open-mouthed, as the kind of democracy practised by reasonable and amiable but not very clever people, the people whose education had never involved a book but had involved lots of other people, surrounded Nutt in its invisible, beneficent arms.
It was heartwarming, but Glenda's heart was a little bit calloused on this score. It was the crab bucket at its best. Sentimental and forgiving; but get it wrong¨Cone wrong word, one wrong liaison, one wrong thought¨Cand those nurturing arms could so easily end in fists. Nutt was right: at best, being an orc was to live under a threat.
'You lot have got no right treating the poor little devil like that,' said the old lady, waving a finger at the nearest Sister. 'If you want to live here, you have to do things our way, all right? And that means no pecking at people. That's not how we do things in Ankh-Morpork.'
Even Glenda smiled at that one. Pecking was a picnic compared with what Ankh-Morpork could offer.
'Vetinari's letting all sorts in these days,' said another passenger. 'I won't hear a word said against the dwarfs - '
'Good,' said a voice at his back. He moved aside and Glenda saw the dwarf standing behind him.
'Sorry, mate, I didn't see you there, what with you being so little,' said the man who had nothing against dwarfs. 'As I was saying, you lot just settle down and get on with it and are no trouble to anybody, but we're getting some weird ones now.'
'That woman they put in the Watch last month, for one,' said the old lady. 'The weird one from out Ephebe way. Gust of wind caught her sunglasses and three people turned into stone.'
'She was a Medusa,' said Glenda, who had read about that in the Times. 'The wizards managed to turn them back again, though.'
'Well, what I'm saying is,' started the man who had nothing against dwarfs, 'we don't mind anyone, so long as they mind their own business and don't do any funny stuff.'
This was the rhythm of the world to Glenda; she'd heard it so many times. But the feeling of the crowd was now very much against the Sisters. Sooner or later somebody was going to pick up a stone. 'I'd get out of here now,' she said, 'get out and go back to the lady you work for. I should do that right now, if I were you.'
'Awk! Awk!' one of them screeched.
But there were brains in those strange-shaped heads. And the three Sisters were clearly bright enough to want to keep them there and ran for it, hopping and leaping like herons until what seemed like cloaks turned out to be wings, which pounded on the air as they sought for height. There was a final scream of 'Awk! Awk!'
The driver of the horse bus coughed. 'Well, if that's all sorted out then I suggest you all get back on board, please, ladies and gentlemen. And whoever. And don't forget your candles, mister.'
Glenda helped Nutt on to a wooden seat. He was holding his toolbox tightly across his knees, as if it would offer some sort of protection. 'Where were you trying to go?' she said as the horses began to move.
'Home,' said Nutt.
'Back to Her?'