lines as it is. It'll be easy.'
'We could put words in their mouths?' said Magrat.
Nanny Ogg nodded. 'I don't know about new words,' she said. 'But we can make them forget these words.'
They both looked at Granny Weatherwax. She shrugged.
'I suppose it's worth a try,' she conceded.
'Witches as yet unborn will thank us for it,' said Magrat ardently.
'Oh, good,' said Granny.
'At last! What are you three playing at? We've been looking for you everywhere!'
The witches turned to see an irate dwarf trying to loom over them.
'Us?' said Magrat. 'But we're not in—'
'Oh yes you are, remember, we put it in last week. Act Two, Downstage, around the cauldron. You haven't got to say anything. You're symbolising occult forces at work. Just be as wicked as you can. Come on, there's good lads. You've done well so far.'
Hwel slapped Magrat on the bottom. 'Good complexion you've got mere, Wilph,' he said encouragingly. 'But for goodness' sake use a bit more padding, you're still the wrong shape. Fine warts there, Billem. I must say,' he added, standing back, 'you look as nasty a bunch of hags as a body might hope to clap eyes on. Well done. Shame about the wigs. Now run along. Curtain up in one minute. Break a leg.'
He gave Magrat another ringing slap on her rump, slightly hurting his hand, and hurried off to shout at someone else.
None of the witches dared to speak. Magrat and Nanny Ogg found themselves instinctively turning towards Granny.
She sniffed. She looked up. She looked around. She looked at the brightly lit stage behind her. She brought her hands together with a clap that echoed around the castle, and then rubbed them together.
'Useful,' she said grimly. 'Let's do the show right here.' Nanny squinted sullenly after Hwel. 'Break your own leg,' she muttered.
Hwel stood in the wings and gave the signal for the curtains. And for the thunder.
It didn't come.
'Thunder!' he hissed, in a voice heard by half the audience. 'Get on with it!'
A voice from behind the nearest pillar wailed, 'I went and bent the thunder, Hwel! It just goes clonk-clonk!'
Hwel stood silent for a moment, counting. The company watched him, awestruck but not, unfortunately, thunderstruck.
At last he raised his fists to the open sky and said, 'I wanted a storm! Just a storm. Not even a big storm. Any storm. Now I want to make myself absolutely CLEAR! I have had ENOUGH! I want thunder right NOW!'
The stab of lightning that answered him turned the multi-hued shadows of the castle into blinding white and searing black. It was followed by a roll of thunder, on cue.
It was the loudest noise Hwel had ever heard. It seemed to start inside his head and work its way outwards.
It went on and on, shaking every stone in the castle. Dust rained down. A distant turret broke away with balletic slowness and, tumbling end over end, dropped gently into the hungry depths of the gorge.
When it finished it left a silence that rang like a bell.
Hwel looked up at the sky. Great black clouds were blowing across the castle, blotting out the stars.
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