'It doesn't burn itself?' Oats said weakly.
'Shouldn't think so,' said Granny, stepping over the wreckage. 'Wouldn't be much point.'
'Then it must be magical fire...'
'They say that whether it burns you or not is up to you,' said Granny. 'I used to watch them as a kid. My granny told me about 'em. Some cold nights you see them dancin' in the sky over the Hub, burnin' green and gold...'
'Oh, you mean the aurora coriolis,' said Oats, trying to make his voice sound matter of fact. 'But actually that's caused by magic particles hitting the-'
'Dunno what it's caused by,' said Granny sharply, 'but what it is is the phoenix dancin'.' She reached out. 'I ought to hold your arm.'
'In case I fall over?' said Oats, still watching the burning bird.
'That's right.'
As he took her weight the phoenix above them flung back its head and screamed at the sky.
'And to think I thought it was an allegorical creature,' said the priest.
'Well? Even allegories have to live,' said Granny Weatherwax.
Vampires are not naturally co-operative creatures. It's not in their nature. Every other vampire is a rival for the next meal. In fact, the ideal situation for a vampire is a world in which every other vampire has been killed off and no one seriously believes in vampires any more. They are by nature as co-operative as sharks.
Vampyres are just the same, the only real difference being that they can't spell properly.
The remnant of the clan scurried through the keep and headed for a door that for some reason had been left ajar.
The bucket containing a cocktail of waters blessed by a Knight of Offler, a High Priest of Io and a man so generically holy that he hadn't cut his hair or washed for seventy years, landed on the first two to run through.
They did not include the Count and his family, who had moved as one into a side tower. There's no point in having underlings if you don't let them be the first to go through suspicious doors.
'How could you have been so-' Lacrimosa began, and to her shock got a slap across the face from her father.
'All we need to do is remain calm,' said the Count. 'There's no need to panic.'
'You struck me!'
'And most satisfying it was, too,' said the Count. 'Careful thought is what will save us. That is why we will survive.'
'It's not working!' said Lacrimosa. 'I'm a vampire! I'm supposed to crave blood! And all I can think about is a cup of tea with three sugars in it, whatever the hell that is! That old woman's doing something to us, can't you see?'
'Not possible,' said the Count. 'Oh, she's sharp for a human, but I don't reckon there's any way she could get into your head or mine-'
'You're even talkin' like her!' shouted Lacrimosa.
'Be resolute, my dear,' said the Count. 'Remember - that which does not kill us can only make us stronger.'
'And that which does kill us leaves us dead!' snarled Lacrimosa. 'You saw what happened to the others! You got your fingers burned!'
'A moment's lapse of concentration,' said the Count. 'That old witch is not a threat. She's a vampire. Subservient to us. She'll be seeing the world differently-'
'Are you mad? Something killed Cryptopher.'
'He let himself be frightened.'
The rest of the family looked at the Count. Vlad and Lacrimosa exchanged a glance.
'I am supremely confident,' said the Count. His smile looked like a death mask, waxen and disturbingly tranquil. 'My mind is like a rock. My nerve is firm. A vampire with his wits about him, or her, of course, can never be defeated. Didn't I teach you this? What's this one?'
His hand flew from his pocket, holding a square of white cardboard.
'Oh, Father, this is really no time for-' Lacrimosa froze, then jerked her arm in front of her face. 'Put it away! Put it awayl it's the Agatean Chlong of Destiny!'
'Exactly, which is merely three straight lines and two curved lines pleasantly arranged which-'
'-I'd never have known about if you hadn't told me, you old fool!' screamed the girl, backing away.
The Count turned to his son.
'And do you-' he began. Vlad sprang back, putting his hand over his eyes.
'It hurts!' he shouted.
'Dear me, the two of you haven't been practising-' the Count began, and turned the card around so that he could look at it.
He screwed up his eyes and turned his face away.
'What have you done to us?!' Lacrimosa screamed. 'You've taught us how to see hundreds of the damned holy thingsl They're everywherel Every religion has a different one! You taught us that, you stupid bastard! Lines and crosses and circles... Oh, my...' She caught sight of the stone wall behind her astonished brother and shuddered. 'Everywhere I look I see something holy! You've taught us to see patterns!' she snarled at her father, teeth exposed.
'It'll be dawn soon,' said the Countess nervously. 'Will it hurt?'
'It won't! Of course it won't!' shouted Count Magpyr, as the others glanced up at the pale light coming through a high window. 'It's a learned psychochromatic reaction! A superstition! It's all in the mind!'
'What else is in our minds, Father?' said Vlad coldly.
The Count was circling, trying to keep an eye on Lacrimosa. The girl was flexing her fingers and snarling.
'I said-'
'Nothing's in our minds that we didn't put there!' the Count roared. 'I saw that old witch's mind! It's weak. She relies on trickery! She couldn't possibly find a way in! I wonder if there are other agendas here?'
He bared his teeth at Lacrimosa.
The Countess fanned herself desperately. 'Well, I think we're all getting a little bit overexcited,' she said. 'I think we should all settle down and have a nice cup of... a nice... of tea... a cup of...'
'We're vampires!' Lacrimosa shouted.
'Then let's act like them!' screamed the Count.
Agnes opened her eyes, kicked up, and the man with the hammer and stake lost all interest in vampires and in consciousness as well.
'Whsz-' Agnes removed from her mouth what was, this time, a fig. 'Can you get it into your stupid heads that I'm not a vampire? And this isn't a lemon. It's a fig. And I'd watch that bloke with the stake. He's altogether too keen on it. I reckon there's some psychology there-'
'I wouldn't have let him use it,' said Piotr, close by her ear. 'But you did act very odd and then you just collapsed. So we thought we'd better see what woke up.'
He stood up. The citizens of Escrow stood watching among the trees, their faces gaunt in the flickering torchlight.
'It's all right, she's still not one,' he said. There was some general relaxation.
You really have changed, said Perdita.
'You're not affected?' said Agnes. She felt as if she was on the end of a string with someone jerking the other end.
No. I'm the bit of you that watches, remember?
'What?' said Piotr.
'I really, really hope this wears off,' said Agnes. 'I keep tripping over my own feet! I'm walking wrong! My whole body feels wrong!'
'Er... can we go on to the castle?' said Piotr.
'She's already there,' said Agnes. 'I don't know how, but-'
She stopped and looked at the worried faces, and for a moment she found herself thinking in the way Granny Weatherwax thought.
'Yes,' she said, more slowly. 'I reckon... I mean, I think we ought to get there right away. People have to kill their own vampires.'
Nanny hurried down the steps again.
'I told you!' she said. 'That's Esme Weatherwax down there, that is. I told you! I knew she was just biding her timel Hah, I'd like to see the bloodsucker who could put one over on her!'
'I wouldn't,' said Igor, fervently.
Nanny stepped over a vampire who hadn't noticed, in the shadows, a cunning combination of a tripwire, a heavy weight and a stake, and opened a door into the courtyard.
'Coo-ee, Esme!'
Granny Weatherwax pushed Oats away and stepped forward.
'Is the baby all right?' she said.
'Magrat and Es... young Esme are locked up in the crypt. It's a very strong door,' said Nanny.
'And Thcrapth ith guarding them,' said Igor. 'He'th a wonderful guard dog.'
Granny raised her eyebrows and looked Igor up and down.
'I don't think I know this... these gentlemen,' she said.
'Oh, this is Igor,' said Nanny. 'A man of many parts.'
'So it seems,' said Granny.
Nanny glared at Mightily Oats. 'What did you bring him for?' she said.
'Couldn't seem to shake him off,' said Granny.
'I always try hiding behind the sofa, myself,' said Nanny. Oats looked away.
There was a scream from somewhere on the battlements. The phoenix had spotted another vampire.
'All over now bar sweeping up the dust, then,' said Nanny. 'They didn't seem very smart-'
'The Count's still here,' said Granny flatly.
'Oh, I vote we just set fire to the place and go home,' said Nanny. 'It's not as though he'll be coming back to Lancre in a hurry-'
'There'th a crowd coming,' said Igor.
'I can't hear anything,' said Nanny.
'I've got very good ear'th,' said Igor.
'Ah, well, of course some of us don't get to choose,' said Nanny.
There was a clattering of footsteps across the bridge and people were suddenly swarming over the rubble.
'Isn't that Agnes?' said Nanny. Normally there'd be no mistaking the figure advancing across the courtyard, but there was something about the walk, the way every foot thudded down as though the boots were not on speaking terms with the earth. And the arms, too, swung in a way-
'I can't be having with this!' Agnes shouted, marching up to Granny. 'I can't think straight. It's you, isn't it?'
Granny reached out and touched the wounds on her neck.
'Ah, I see,' she said. 'One of them bit you, yes?'
'Yes! And somehow you spoke to me!'
'Not me. That was something in your blood talkin', I reckon,' said Granny. 'Who're all these people? Why's that man trying to set fire to the wall? Don't he know stone don't burn?'
'Oh, that's Claude, he's a bit single minded. Just let me know if he picks up a stake, will you? Look, they're from Escrow, it's a town not far away... The Magpyrs treated them like... well... pets. Farm animals! Just like they were trying to do back home!'
'We ain't leaving until we've dealt with the Count,' said Granny. 'Otherwise he'll be sneaking back-'
'Er, excuse me,' said Oats, who seemed to have been thinking about something. 'Excuse me, but did someone mention that the Queen was locked up in the crypt?'
'Safe as houses,' said Nanny. 'Huge thick door and you can bar it from the inside.'
'How safe are houses from vampires?' said Oats.
Granny's head turned sharply. 'What do you mean?'
Oats took a step backwards.
'Ah, I know what he means,' said Nanny. 'It's all right, we're not daft, she won't open up until she knows it's us-'
'I meant, how does the door stop vampires?'
'Stop them? It's a door.'
'So... they can't turn themselves into some sort of mist, then?' said Oats, frying in the joint radiation of their stares. 'Only I thought that vampires could, you see. I thought everyone knew that who knows anything about vampires...'
Granny turned on Igor. 'D'you know anything about this?'
Igor's mouth opened and shut a few times.
'The old Count never did anything like that,' he said.
'Yes,' said Nanny, 'But he played fair.'
There was a rising howl from the depths of the castle, cut off suddenly.
'That was Thcrapth!' said Igor, breaking into a run.
'Thcraapthhh?' said Agnes, wrinkling her brow. Nanny grabbed her arm and dragged her after Igor.
Granny swayed a little. Her eyes had an unfocused look.
Oats glanced at her, made up his mind, staggered rather theatrically and sprawled in the dust.
Granny blinked, shook her head and glared down at him.
'Hah! All too much for you, eh?' she said hoarsely.
Trembling fingers reached down for Oats. He took them, taking care not to pull, and stood up.
'If you could just give me a hand,' he said, as her grateful weight hit his shoulder.
'Right,' said Granny. 'Now let's find the kitchens.'
'Huh? What do we want with the kitchens?'
'After a night like this we could all do with a cup of tea,' said Granny.
Magrat leaned against the door as a second thump rattled the bolts. Beside her, Scraps started to growl. Perhaps it was something to do with his extensive surgery, but Scraps growled in half a dozen different pitches all at once.
Then there was silence, which was even more terrifying than the thumping.
A faint noise made her look down. A green smoke was pouring through the keyhole.
It was thick, and had an oily quality...
She darted across the room and snatched up a jar that had contained lemons so sportingly provided by the mysterious old Count that Igor thought so highly of. She wrenched off the lid and held it under the keyhole. When the smoke had filled it up she dropped a few cloves
of garlic in and slammed the lid back on.
The jar rocked urgently on the floor.
Then Magrat glanced at the lid of the well. When she lifted it up she heard rushing water a long way below. Well, that was likely, wasn't it? There must be lots of underground rivers in the mountains.
She held the jar over the centre of the hole and let it go. Then she slammed the lid back down.
Young Esme gurgled in the corner. Magrat hurried over to her and shook a rattle.
'Look at the pretty bunny rabbit,' she said, and darted back again.
There was whispering on the other side of the door. Then Nanny Ogg's voice said, 'It's all right, dear, we've got them. You can open the door now. Lawks.'
Magrat rolled her eyes.
'Is that really you, Nanny?'
'That's right, dear.'
'Thank goodness. Just tell me the joke about the old woman, the priest and the rhinoceros then and I'll let you in.'
There was a pause, and some more whispering.
'I don't think We've got time for that, dear,' said the voice.
'Ha ha, nice try,' said Magrat. 'I've dropped one of you in the river! Who was it?'
After some silence the voice of the Count said, 'We thought the Countess could persuade you to listen to reason.'
'Not in a jar she can't,' said Magrat. 'And I've got more jars if you want to try it again!'
'We had hoped that you would be sensible about this,' said the Count. 'However...'
The door slammed back, pulling the bolts out of the wall.
Magrat grabbed the baby and stepped backwards, her other hand raised.
'You come near me and I'll stab you with this!' she shouted.
'It's a teddybear,' said the Count. 'I'm afraid it wouldn't work, even if you sharpened it.'
The door was so hard that the wood was like stone with a grain. Someone had once thought hard about the maximum amount of force a really determined mob would be able to apply, and had then overdesigned.
It hung open.
'But we heard her put the bars across!' wailed Nanny.
A variously coloured lump was sprawled in front of the door. Igor knelt down and picked up a limp paw.
'They've killed Thcrapth! The bathtardth!'
'They've got Magrat and the babby!' snapped Nanny.
'He wath my only friend!'
Nanny's arm shot out and, despite his bulk, Igor was lifted up by his collar.
'You're going to have one very serious enemy really soon, my lad, unless you help us out right now! Oh, for heaven's sake...' With her spare hand she reached into her knickerleg and produced a large crumpled handkerchief. 'Have a good blow, will you?'
There was a noise like a foghorn being trodden on.
'Now, where would they take them? The place is swarming with righteous peasants!' said Nanny, when he'd finished.
'He wath alwayth ready with hith waggy tailth and hith cold nothe-' Igor sobbed.
'Where, Igor?'
Igor pointed with his finger, or at least one that he currently owned, to the far door.
'That goeth to the vaultth,' he said. 'An' they can get out through the iron gate down in the valley. You'll never catch them!'
'But it's still bolted,' said Agnes.
'Then they're thtill in the cathle, which ith thtupid-'
He was interrupted by several huge organ chords, which made the floor rumble.
'Any of the Escrow folk big musicians?' said Nanny, lowering Igor.
'How do I know?' said Agnes, as another couple of descending chords brought dust down from the ceiling. 'They wanted to hammer a stake in me and boil my head! That is not the time to ask them to give a little whistle!'
The organ piped its summons once more.
'Why'd they stay?' said Nanny. 'They could be dug in deep somewhere by now- Oh...'
'Granny wouldn't run,' said Agnes.
'No, Granny Weatherwax likes a showdown,' said Nanny, grinning artfully. 'And they're thinkin' like her. Somehow she's making them think like her...'
'She thinks like her, too,' said Agnes.
'Let's hope she's had more practice, then,' said Nanny. 'Come on!'
Lacrimosa pulled an organ stop marked 'Ghastly Face at Window' and was rewarded with a chord, a crash of thunder and a slightly mechanical scream.
'Thank goodness we don't take after your side of the family, Father, that's all I can say,' she said. 'Although I suppose it could be fun if we could arrange some sort of mechanical linkage to the torture chamber. That certainly wasn't a very realistic scream.'
'This is ridiculous,' said Vlad. 'We've got the child. We've got the woman. Why don't we just leave? There're plenty of other castles.'
'That would be running away,' said the Count.
'And surviving,' said Vlad, rubbing his head.
'We don't run,' said the Count. 'And- No, step back, please...'
This was to the mob, which was hovering uncertainly just inside the doors. Mobs become uncertain very quickly, in view of the absence of a central brain, and in this case the hesitation was caused by the sight of Magrat and the baby.
Vlad had a bruise on his forehead. A push-and-go wooden duck on wheels can cause quite a lot of damage if wielded with enough force.
'Well done,' said the Count, cradling baby Esme on one arm. Magrat writhed to escape the grip of his other hand, but it clamped her wrist like steel. 'You see? Absolute obedience. It's just as in chess. If you take the Queen, you've as good as won. It doesn't matter if a few pawns are lost.'
'That's a very nasty way to talk about Mother,' said Vlad.
'I am very attached to your mother,' said the Count. 'And she'll find a way to return, in the fullness of time. A voyage will be good for her health. Some fisherman will find the jar and next thing you know she'll be back with us, fat and healthy- Ah, the inestimable Mrs Ogg...'
'Don't you go smarming me!' snapped Nanny, pushing her way. through the bewildered crowd. 'I'm fed up with you smarming at me smarmily as if you were Mister Smarm! Now you just free the both of them or-'
'Ah, so quickly we get to or,' sighed the Count. 'But I will say: you will all leave the castle, and then we shall see. Perhaps we shall let the Queen go. But the little princess... Isn't she charming? She can remain as our guest. She'll brighten the place up-'
'She's coming back to Lancre with us, you bastard!' screamed Magrat. She twisted in the Count's grip and tried to slap him, but Agnes saw her face whiten as his hand tightened on her wrist.
'That's very bad language for a queen,' said the Count. 'And I am still very strong, even for a vampire. But you're right. We shall all go back to Lancre. One big happy family, living in the castle. I must say, this place is losing its attractions. Oh, don't blame yourself, Mrs Ogg. I'm sure others will do that for you-'
He stopped. A sound that had been on the edge of hearing was getting louder. It had a rhythmic, almost tinny sound.
The crowd parted. Granny Weatherwax walked forward, slowly stirring.
'No milk in this place,' she said. 'Not to be wondered at, really. I sliced a bit of lemon, but it's not the same, I always think.'
She laid the spoon in the saucer with a clink that echoed around the hall, and gave the Count a smile.
'Am I too late?' she said.
The bolts rattled back, one by one.
'... 'th gone too far,' Igor muttered. 'The old marthter wouldn't...'
The door creaked back on lovingly rusted hinges. Cool dry air puffed out of the darkness.
Igor fumbled with some matches and lit a torch.
'... it'th all very well wanting a nithe long retht, but thith ith a dithgrathe...'
He ran along the dark corridors, half rough masonry, half sheer naked rock, and reached another chamber that was completely empty apart from a large stone sarcophagus in the centre, on the side of which was carved MAGPYR.
He stuffed the torch into a bracket, removed his coat and after considerable pushing heaved the stone lid aside.
'Thorry about thith, marthter,' he grunted as it thudded to the ground.
Inside the coffin grey dust twinkled in the torchlight.
'... coming up here, mething everything up...' Igor picked up his coat and took a thick wad of material out of his pocket. He unrolled it on the edge of the stone,. Now the light glinted off an array of scalpels, scissors and needles.
... threatening little babieth now... you never done that... only adventurouth femaleth over the age of theventeen and looking good in a nightie, you alwayth thed...'
He selected a scalpel and, with some care, nicked the little finger of his left hand.
A drop of blood appeared, swelled and dropped on to the dust, where it smoked.
'That one'th for Thcrapth,' said Igor with grim satisfaction.
By the time he'd reached the door white mist was already pouring over the edge of the coffin.
'I'm an old lady' said Granny Weatherwax, looking around sternly. 'I'd like to sit down, thank you so very much.'
A bench was rushed forward. Granny sat, and eyed the Count.
'What were you saying?' she said.
'Ah, Esmerelda,' said the Count. 'At last you come to join us. The call of the blood is too strong to be disobeyed, yes?'
'I hope so,' said Granny.
'We're all going to walk out of here, Miss Weatherwax.'
'You're not leaving here,' said Granny. She stirred the tea again. The eyes of all three vampires swivelled to follow the spoon.
'You have no choice but to obey me. You know that,' said the Count.
'Oh, there's always a choice,' said Granny.
Vlad and Lacrimosa leaned down on either side of their father. There was some hurried whispering. The Count looked up.
'No, you couldn't have resisted it,' he said. 'Not even you!'
'I won't say it didn't cost me,' said Granny. She stirred the tea again.
There was more whispering.
'We do have the Queen and the baby' said the Count. 'I believe you think highly of them.'
Granny raised the cup halfway to her lips. 'Kill 'em,' she said. 'It won't benefit you.'
'Esme!' snapped Nanny Ogg and Magrat together.
Granny put the cup back in the saucer. Agnes thought she saw Vlad sigh. She could feel the pull herself. ..
I know what she did, whispered Perdita. So do I, thought Agnes.
'He's bluffing,' Granny said.
'Oh? You'd like a vampire queen one day, would you?' said Lacrimosa.
'Had one once, in Lancre,' said Granny conversationally. 'Poor woman got bitten by one of you people. Got by on blue steak and such. Never laid a tooth on anyone, the way I heard it. Griminir the Impaler, she was.'
'The Impaler?'
'Oh, I just said she wasn't a bloodsucker. I didn't say she was a nice person,' said Granny. 'She didn't mind shedding blood, but she drew the line at drinking it. You don't have to, neither.'
'You know nothing about true vampires!'
'I know more'n you think, and I know about Gytha Ogg,' said Granny. Nanny Ogg blinked.
Granny Weatherwax raised the teacup again, and then lowered it. 'She likes a drink. She'll tell you it has to be best brandy...' Nanny nodded affirmation '... and that's certainly what she desires, but really she'll settle for beer just like everyone else.' Nanny Ogg shrugged as Granny went on: 'But you wouldn't settle for black puddings, would you, because what you really drink is power over people. I know you like I know myself. And one of the things I know is that you ain't going to hurt a hair of that child's head. Leastways,' and here Granny absentmindedly stirred the tea again, 'if she had any yet, you wouldn't. You can't, see.'
She picked up the cup and carefully scraped it on the edge of the saucer. Agnes saw Lacrimosa's lips part, hungrily.
'So all I'm really here for, d'you see, is to see whether you get justice or mercy,' said Granny. 'It's just a matter of choosing.'
'You really think we wouldn't harm meat?' said Lacrimosa, striding forward. 'Watch!'
She brought her hand down hard towards the baby, and then jerked back as if she'd been stung.
'Can't do it,' said Granny.
'I nearly broke my arm!'
'Shame,' said Granny calmly.
'You've put some... something magical in the child, have you?' said the Count.
'Can't imagine who'd think I'd do such a thing,' said Granny, while behind her Nanny Ogg looked down at her boots. 'So here's my offer, you see. You hand back Magrat and the baby and we'll chop your heads off.'
'And that's what you call justice, is it?' said the Count.
'No, that's what I call mercy,' said Granny. She put the cup back in the saucer.
'For goodness' sake, woman, are you going to drink that damn tea or not?' roared the Count.
Granny sipped it and made a face.
'Why, what have I been thinkin' of? I've been so busy talking it's got cold,' she said, and daintily tipped the contents of the cup on to the floor.
