Lords and Ladies (Discworld 14)
“I can go anywhere, but you're stuck in the circle,” said the girl.
“Can you go anywhere?”
“When I am a witch I shall be able to go anywhere.”
“But you'll never be a witch.”
“What?”
“They say you won't listen. They say you can't keep your temper. They say you have no discipline.”
The girl tossed her hair. “Oh, you know that too, do you? Well, they would say that, wouldn't they? But I mean to be a witch whatever they say. You can find things out for yourself. You don't have to listen to a lot of daft old ladies who've never had a life. And, circle lady, I shall be the best witch there has ever been.”
“With my help, I believe you may,” said the woman in the circle. “Your young man is looking for you, I think,” she added mildly
Another of those one-shoulder shrugs, indicating that the young man can go on looking all day.
“I will, will I?”
“You could be a great witch. You could be anything. Anything you want. Come into the circle. Let me show you.”
The girl takes a few steps forward, and then hesitates. There is something about the woman's tone. The smile is pleasant and friendly, but there is something in the voice too desperate, too urgent, too hungry.
“But I'm learning a lot-”
“Step through the stones now!”
The girl hesitates again.
“How do I know-”
“Circle time is nearly over! Think of what you can learn! Now!”
“But-”
“Step through!”
But that was a long time ago, in the past.[3] And besides, the bitch is . . .
. . . older.
A land of ice . . .
Not winter, because that presumes an autumn and perhaps one day a spring. This is a land of ice, not just a time of ice.
And three figures on horseback, looking down the snow covered slope to a ring of eight stones. From this side they look much bigger.
You might watch the figures for some time before you realised what it was about them that was strange-stranger, that is, than their clothing. The hot breath of their horses hung in the freezing air. But the breath of the riders did not.
“And this time,” said the figure in the centre, a woman in red, “there will be no defeat. The land will welcome us. It must hate humans now.”
“But there were witches,” said one of the other riders. “I remember the witches.”
“Once, yes,” said the woman. “But now . . . poor things, poor things. Scarce any power in them at all. And suggestible. Pliant minds. I have crept about, my deary. I have crept about o'nights. I know the witches they have now. Leave the witches to me.”
“I remember the witches,” said the third rider insistently. “Minds like . . . like metal.”
“Not anymore. I tell you, leave them to me.” The Queen smiled benevolently at the stone circle.