Wyrd Sisters

'The point is,' said Granny, 'that people are going to come looking. Serious people. Serious looking. Pull-down-the-walls and burn-off-the-thatch looking. And—'

'Howsa boy, den?'

'—And,

Gytha , I'm sure we'll all be a lot happier if you'd stop gurgling like that!' Granny snapped. She could feel her nerves coming on. Her nerves always played up when she was unsure about things. Besides, they had retired to Magrat's cottage, and the decor was getting to her, because Magrat believed in Nature's wisdom and elves and the healing power of colours and the cycle of the seasons and a lot of other things Granny Weatherwax didn't have any truck with.

'You're not after telling me how to look after a child,' snapped Nanny Ogg mildly. 'And me with fifteen of my own?'

'I'm just saying that we ought to think about it,' said Granny.

The other two watched her for some time. 'Well?' said Magrat.

Granny's fingers drummed on the edge of the crown. She frowned.

'First, we've got to take him away from here,' she said, and held up a hand. 'No, Gytha, I'm sure your cottage is ideal and everything, but it's not safe. He's got to be somewhere away from here, a long way away, where no-one knows who he is.

And then there's this.' She tossed the crown from hand to hand.

'Oh, that's easy,' said Magrat. 'I mean, you just hide it under a stone or something. That's easy. Much easier than babies.'

'It ain't,' said Granny. The reason being, the country's full of babies and they all look the same, but I don't reckon there's many crowns. They have this way of being found, anyway. They kind of call out to people's minds. If you bunged it under a stone up here, in a week's time it'd get itself discovered by accident. You mark my words.'

'It's true, is that,' said Nanny Ogg, earnestly. 'How many times have you thrown a magic ring into the deepest depths of the ocean and then, when you get home and have a nice bit of turbot for your tea, there it is?'

They considered this in silence.

'Never,' said Granny irritably. 'And nor have you. Anyway, he might want it back. If it's rightfully his, that is. Kings set a lot of store by crowns. Really, Gytha, sometimes you say the most—'

'I'll just make some tea, shall I?' said Magrat brightly, and disappeared into the scullery.

The two elderly witches sat on either side of the table in polite and prickly silence. Finally Nanny Ogg said, 'She done it up nice, hasn't she? Flowers and everything. What are them things on the walls?'

'Sigils,' said Granny sourly. 'Or some such.'

'Fancy,' said Nanny Ogg, politely. 'And all them robes and wands and things too.'

'Modern,'

said Granny Weatherwax, with a sniff. 'When I was a gel, we had a lump of wax and a couple of pins and had to be content. We had to make our own enchantment in them days.'

'Ah, well, we've all passed a lot of water since then,' said Nanny Ogg sagely. She gave the baby a comforting jiggle.

Granny Weatherwax sniffed. Nanny Ogg had been married three times and ruled a tribe of children and grandchildren all over the kingdom. Certainly, it was not actually forbidden for witches to get married. Granny had to concede that, but reluctantly. Very reluctantly. She sniffed again, disapprovingly; this was a mistake.

'What's that smell?' she snapped.

'Ah,' said Nanny Ogg, carefully repositioning the baby. 'I expect I'll just go and see if Magrat has any clean rags, shall I?'

And now Granny was left alone. She felt embarrassed, as one always does when left alone in someone else's room, and fought the urge to get up and inspect the books on the shelf over the sideboard or