Hogfather (38 page)

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Authors: Terry Pratchett

Tags: #Fantasy:Humour

BOOK: Hogfather
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“Yes, but people have
got
to believe that, or what’s the
point
—”

M
Y POINT EXACTLY
.

She tried to assemble her thoughts.

T
HERE IS A PLACE WHERE TWO GALAXIES HAVE BEEN COLLIDING FOR A MILLION YEARS
, said Death, apropos of nothing. D
ON’T TRY TO TELL
ME
THAT’S RIGHT
.

“Yes, but people don’t think about that,” said Susan. “Somewhere there was a bed…”

C
ORRECT
. S
TARS EXPLODE, WORLDS COLLIDE, THERE’S HARDLY ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE WHERE HUMANS CAN LIVE WITHOUT BEING FROZEN OR FRIED, AND YET YOU BELIEVE THAT A…A BED IS A NORMAL THING
. I
T IS THE MOST AMAZING TALENT
.

“Talent?”

O
H, YES
. A
VERY SPECIAL KIND OF STUPIDITY
. Y
OU THINK THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS INSIDE YOUR HEADS
.

“You make us sound mad,” said Susan. A nice warm bed…

N
O
. Y
OU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN’T TRUE
. H
OW ELSE CAN THEY
BECOME
? said Death, helping her up onto Binky.

“These mountains,” said Susan, as the horse rose. “Are they
real
mountains, or some sort of shadows?”

Y
ES
.

Susan knew that was all she was going to get.

“Er…I lost the sword. It’s somewhere in the Tooth Fairy’s country.”

Death shrugged. I
CAN MAKE ANOTHER
.

“Can you?”

O
H, YES
. I
T WILL GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO
. D
ON’T WORRY ABOUT IT
.

The Senior Wrangler hummed cheerfully to himself as he ran a comb through his beard for the second time and liberally sprinkled it with what would turn out to be a preparation of weasel extract for demon removal rather than, as he had assumed, a pleasant masculine scent.
*
Then he stepped out into his study.

“Sorry for the delay, but—” he began.

There was no one there. Only, very far off, the sound of someone blowing their nose mingling with the
glingleglingleglingle
of fading magic.

The light was already gilding the top of the Tower of Art when Binky trotted to a standstill on the air beside the nursery balcony. Susan climbed down onto the fresh snow and stood uncertainly for a moment. When someone has gone out of their way to drop you home it’s only courteous to ask them in. On the other hand…

W
OULD YOU LIKE TO VISIT FOR
H
OGSWATCH DINNER
? said Death. He sounded hopeful. A
LBERT IS FRYING A PUDDING
.


Frying
a pudding?”

A
LBERT UNDERSTANDS FRYING
. A
ND
I
BELIEVE HE’S MAKING JAM
. H
E CERTAINLY KEPT TALKING ABOUT IT
.

“I…er…they’re really expecting me here,” said Susan. “The Gaiters do a lot of entertaining. His business friends. Probably the whole day will be…I’ll more or less have to look after the children…”

S
OMEONE SHOULD
.

“Er…would you like a drink before you go?” said Susan, giving in.

A
CUP OF COCOA WOULD BE APPROPRIATE IN THE CIRCUMSTANCES
.

“Right. There’s biscuits in the tin on the mantelpiece.”

Susan headed with relief into the tiny kitchen.

Death sat down in the creaking wicker chair, buried his feet in the rug and looked around with interest. He heard the clatter of cups, and then a sound like indrawn breath, and then silence.

Death helped himself to a biscuit from the tin. There were two full stockings hanging from the mantelpiece. He prodded them with professional satisfaction, and then sat down again and observed the nursery wallpaper. It seemed to be pictures of rabbits in waistcoats, among other fauna. He was not surprised. Death occasionally turned up in person even for rabbits, simply to see that the whole process was working properly. He’d never seen one wearing a waistcoat. He wouldn’t have expected waistcoats. At least, he wouldn’t have expected waistcoats if he hadn’t had some experience of the way humans portrayed the universe. As it was, it was only a blessing they hadn’t been given gold watches and top hats as well.

Humans liked dancing pigs, too. And lambs in hats. As far as Death was aware, the sole reason for any human association with pigs and lambs was as a prelude to chops and sausages. Quite why they should dress up for children’s wallpaper as well was a mystery. Hello, little folk, this is what you’re going to eat…He felt that if only he could find the key to it, he’d know a lot more about human beings.

His gaze traveled to the door. Susan’s governess coat and hat were hanging on it. The coat was gray, and so was the hat. Gray and round and dull. Death didn’t know many things about the human psyche, but he did know protective coloration when he saw it.

Dullness. Only humans could have invented it. What imaginations they had.

The door opened.

To his horror, Death saw a small child of unidentifiable sex come out of the bedroom, amble sleepily across the floor and unhook the stockings from the mantelpiece. It was halfway back before it noticed him and then it simply stopped and regarded him thoughtfully.

He knew that young children could see him because they hadn’t yet developed that convenient and selective blindness that comes with the intimation of personal mortality. He felt a little embarrassed.

“Susan’s gotta poker, you know,” it said, as if anxious to be helpful.

W
ELL, WELL
. I
NDEED
. M
Y GOODNESS ME
.

“I fort—
thought
all of you knew that now. Larst—
last
week she picked a bogey up by its nose.”

Death tried to imagine this. He felt sure he’d heard the sentence wrong, but it didn’t sound a whole lot better however he rearranged the words.

“I’ll give Gawain his stocking and then I’ll come an’ watch,” said the child. It padded out.

E
R
…S
USAN
? Death said, calling in reinforcements.

Susan backed out of the kitchen, a black kettle in her hand.

There was a figure behind her. In the half-light the sword gleamed blue along its blade. Its glitter reflected off one glass eye.

“Well,
well
,” said Teatime, quietly, glancing at Death. “Now this
is
unexpected. A family affair?”

The sword hummed back and forth.

“I wonder,” said Teatime, “is it
possible
to kill Death? This must be a very special sword and it certainly works
here
…” He raised a hand to his mouth for a moment and gave a little chuckle. “And of course it might well not be regarded as murder. Possibly it is a civic act. It would be, as they say, The Big One. Stand up, sir. You may have some personal knowledge about your vulnerability but I’m pretty certain that Susan here would quite
definitely
die, so I’d rather you didn’t try any last-minute stuff.”

I
AM LAST-MINUTE STUFF
, said Death, standing up.

Teatime circled around carefully, the sword’s tip making little curves in the air.

From the next room came the sound of someone trying to blow a whistle quietly.

Susan glanced at her grandfather.

“I don’t remember them asking for anything that made a noise,” she said.

O
H, THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING IN THE STOCKING THAT MAKES A NOISE
, said Death. O
THERWISE WHAT IS
4:30
A.M.
FOR
?

“There are children?” said Teatime. “Oh, yes, of course. Call them.”

“Certainly not!”

“It will be instructive,” said Teatime. “Educational. And when your adversary is Death, you cannot help but be the good guy.”

He pointed the sword at Susan.

“I
said
call them.”

Susan glanced hopefully at her grandfather. He nodded. For a moment she thought she saw the glow in one eye socket flicker off and on, Death’s equivalent of a wink.
He’s got a plan. He can stop time. He can do anything. He’s got a plan
.

“Gawain? Twyla?”

The muffled noises stopped in the next room. There was a padding of feet and two solemn faces appeared round the door.

“Ah, come in, come
in
, curly haired tots,” said Teatime genially.

Gawain gave him a steely stare.

His next mistake, thought Susan. If he’d called them little bastards he’d have them bang on his side. But they know when you’re sending them up.

“I’ve caught this bogeyman,” said Teatime. “What shall we do with him, eh?”

The two faces turned to Death. Twyla put her thumb in her mouth.

“It’s only a skeleton,” said Gawain critically.

Susan opened her mouth, and the sword swung toward her. She shut it again.

“Yes, a nasty, creepy, horrible skeleton,” said Teatime. “Scary, eh?”

There was a very faint
pop
as Twyla took her thumb out of her mouth.

“He’s eating a bittit,” she said.

“Biscuit,” Susan corrected automatically. She started to swing the kettle in an absentminded way.

“A creepy bony man in a black robe!” said Teatime, aware that things weren’t going in quite the right direction.

He spun round to face Susan. “You’re fidgeting with that kettle,” he said. “So I expect you’re thinking of doing something creative. Put it down, please. Slowly.”

Susan knelt down gently and put the kettle on the hearth.

“Huh, that’s not very creepy, it’s just bones,” said Gawain dismissively. “And anyway Willie the groom down at the stables has promised me a real horse skull. And anyway I’m going to make a hat out of it like General Tacticus had when he wanted to frighten people. And anyway it’s just standing there. It’s not even making woo-woo noises. And anyway
you’re
creepy. Your eye’s weird.”

“Really? Then let’s see how creepy I can be,” said Teatime. Blue fire crackled along the sword as he raised it.

Susan closed her hand over the poker.

Teatime saw her start to turn. He stepped behind Death, sword raised…

Susan threw the poker overarm. It made a ripping noise as it shot through the air, and trailed sparks.

It hit Death’s robe and vanished.

He blinked.

Teatime smiled at Susan.

He turned and peered dreamily at the sword in his hand.

It fell out of his fingers.

Death turned and caught it by the handle as it tumbled, and turned its fall into an upward curve.

Teatime looked down at the poker in his chest as he folded up.

“Oh, no,” he said. “It couldn’t have gone through you. There are so many ribs and things!”

There was another
pop
as Twyla extracted her thumb and said, “It only kills monsters.”

“Stop time
now
,” commanded Susan.

Death snapped his fingers. The room took on the grayish purple of stationary time. The clock paused its ticking.

“You
winked
at me! I thought you had a
plan
!”

I
NDEED
. O
H, YES
. I
PLANNED TO SEE WHAT YOU WOULD DO
.


Just that
?”

Y
OU ARE VERY RESOURCEFUL
. A
ND OF COURSE YOU HAVE HAD AN EDUCATION
.


What
?”

I
DID ADD THE SPARKLY STARS AND THE NOISE, THOUGH
. I
THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE APPROPRIATE
.

“And if I
hadn’t
done anything?”

I
DARESAY
I
WOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF SOMETHING
. A
T THE LAST MINUTE
.

“That
was
the last minute!”

T
HERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR ANOTHER LAST MINUTE
.

“The children had to watch that!”

E
DUCATIONAL
. T
HE WORLD WILL TEACH THEM ABOUT MONSTERS SOON ENOUGH
. L
ET THEM REMEMBER THERE’S ALWAYS THE POKER
.

“But they saw he’s human—”

I
THINK THEY HAD A VERY GOOD IDEA OF WHAT HE WAS
.

Death prodded the fallen Teatime with his foot.

S
TOP PLAYING DEAD
, M
ISTER
T
EH-AH-TIM-EH
.

The ghost of the Assassin sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, all slightly crazed smiles.

“You got it right!”

O
F COURSE
.

Teatime began to fade.

I’
LL TAKE THE BODY
, said Death. T
HAT WILL PREVENT INCONVENIENT QUESTIONS
.

“What did he do it all for?” said Susan. “I mean, why? Money? Power?”

S
OME PEOPLE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THE SHEER FASCINATION OF DOING IT
, said Death. O
R FOR FAME
. O
R BECAUSE THEY SHOULDN’T
.

Death picked up the corpse and slung it over his shoulder. There was a sound of something bouncing on the hearth. He turned, and hesitated.

E
R…YOU DID
KNOW
THE POKER WOULD GO THROUGH ME
?

Susan realized she was shaking.

“Of course. In this room it’s pretty powerful.”

Y
OU WERE NEVER IN ANY DOUBT
?

Susan hesitated, and then smiled.

“I was quite confident,” she said.

A
H
. Her grandfather stared at her for a moment and she thought she detected just the tiniest flicker of uncertainty. O
F COURSE
. O
F COURSE
. T
ELL ME, ARE YOU LIKELY TO TAKE UP TEACHING ON A LARGER SCALE
?

“I hadn’t planned to.”

Death turned toward the balcony, and then seemed to remember something else. He fumbled inside his robe.

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