“Sorry, Archchancellor, force of habit.”
“Smoke all you like, that man.”
“Thank you, Archchancellor.”
“I think I can see the outline of the door now,” said another voice.
“Granny?”
“Yes, I can definitely see -”
“Esk?”
“I'm here, Granny.”
“Can I smoke too, sir?”
“Is the boy with you?”
“Yes.”
“Ook.”
“I'm here.”
“What's happening?”
“Everyone stop talking!”
Ordinary light, slow and easy on the eye, sidled back into the Library.
Esk sat up, dislodging the staff. It rolled under the table. She felt something slip over her eyes, and reached up for it.
“Just a moment,” said Granny, darting forward. She gripped the girl's shoulders and peered into her eyes.
“Welcome back,” she said, and kissed her.
Esk reached up and patted something hard on her head. She lifted it down to examine it.
It was a pointed hat, slightly smaller than Granny's, but bright blue with a couple of silver stars painted on it.
“A wizard hat?” she said.
Cutangle stepped forward.
“Ah, yes,”he said, and cleared his throat: “You see, we thought - it seemed - anyway, when we considered it -”
“You're a wizard,” said Granny, simply. “The Archchancellor changed the lore. Quite a simple ceremony, really.”
“There's the staff somewhere about here,” said Cutangle. “I saw it fall down - oh.”
He stood up with the staff in his hand, and showed it to Granny.
“I thought it had carvings on,” he said. “This looks just like a stick.” And that was a fact. The staff looked as menacing and potent as a piece of kindling.
Esk turned the hat around in her hands, in the manner of one who, opening the proverbial brightly-wrapped package, finds bath salts.
“It's very nice,” she said uncertainly.