'Get on with it,' said Nanny. 'My feet are freezing out here.'
'No. There is nothing strange.'
'But we felt it—' Magrat began.
'Hold on, hold on,' said Granny. Her lips moved soundlessly. Demons were like genies or philosophy professors — if you didn't word things exactly right, they delighted in giving you absolutely accurate and completely misleading answers.
'Is there something in the kingdom that wasn't there before?' she hazarded.
'No.'
Tradition said that there could be only three questions. Granny tried to formulate one that couldn't be deliberately misunderstood. Then she decided that this was playing the wrong kind of game.
'What the hell's going on?' she said carefully. 'And no mucking about trying to wriggle out of it, otherwise I'll boil you.'
The demon appeared to hesitate. This was obviously a new approach.
'Magrat, just kick that kindling over here, will you?' said Granny.
'I protest at this treatment,'
said the demon, its voice tinged with uncertainty.
'Yes, well, we haven't got time to bandy legs with you all night,' said Granny. These word games might be all right for wizards, but we've got other fish to fry.'
'Or boil,' said Nanny.
'Look,'
said the demon, and now there was a whine of terror in its voice. 'We're not supposed to volunteer information just like that. There are rules, you know.'
'There's some old oil in the can on the shelf, Magrat,' said Nanny.
'If I simply tell you—' the demon began.
'Yes?' said Granny, encouragingly.
'You won't let on, will you?'
it implored.
'Not a word,' promised Granny.
'Lips are sealed,' said Magrat.
'There is nothing new in the kingdom,'
said the demon, 'but the land has woken up.'
'What do you mean?' said Granny.
'It's unhappy. It wants a king that cares for it.'
'How—' Magrat began, but Granny waved her into silence.
'You don't mean people, do you?' she said. The glistening head shook. 'No, I didn't think so.'
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