Lords And Ladies Part 44

Ponder shook his head.

"It's worse than that," he said.

"What others?" said Magrat.

"I think there's definitely been a cross-continuum breakthrough, and I'm sure there's a difference in energy levels."

"But what others others?" Magrat insisted.

Ponder Stibbons glanced nervously at the surrounding forest.

"Let's get off the path. There's a lot more elves back there."

Ponder disappeared into the undergrowth. Magrat followed him, and found a second wizard propped against a tree like a ladder. He had a huge smile creasing his face.

"The Bursar," said Ponder. "I think we may have overdone the dried frog pills a bit." He raised his voice. "How...are...you...doing...sir?"

"Why, I'll have a little of the roast weasel, if you would be so good," said the Bursar, beaming happily at nothing.

"Why's he gone so stiff?" said Magrat.

"We think it's some kind of side effect," said Ponder.

"Can't you do anything about it?"

"What, and have nothing to cross streams on?"

"Call again tomorrow, baker, and we'll have a crusty one!" said the Bursar.

"Besides, he seems quite happy," said Ponder. "Are you a warrior, miss?"

"What?" said Magrat.

"Well, I mean, the armor and everything..."

Magrat looked down. She was still holding the sword. The helmet kept falling over her eyes, but she'd padded it a bit with a sc.r.a.p of wedding dress.

"I...er...yes. Yes, that's right. That's what I am," she said. "Absolutely. Yes."

"Here for the wedding, I expect. Like us."

"That's right. Definitely here for the wedding. That's true." She changed her grip on the sword. "Now tell me what happened," she said. "Paying particular attention to what happened to the others."

"Well..." Ponder absentmindedly picked up a corner of his torn robe and began to screw it up in his fingers. "We all went to see this Entertainment, you see. A play. You know. Acting? And, and it was very funny. There were all these yokels in their big boots and everything, straw wigs and everything, clumping around pretending to be lords and ladies and everything, and getting it all wrong. It was very funny. The Bursar laughed at them a lot. Mind you, he's been laughing at trees and rocks, too. But everyone was having fun. And then...and then..."

"I want to know everything," said Magrat.

"Well...well...then there was this bit I can't really remember. It was something to do with the acting, I think. I mean, suddenly...suddenly it all seemed real real. Do you know what I mean?"

"No."

"There was this chap with a red nose and bandy legs and he was playing the Queen of the Fairies or something and suddenly he was still him but...everything felt...everything round me just vanished, there was just the actors...and there was this hill...I mean, they must have been good, because I really believed...I think at some point I remember someone asking us to clap our hands...and everyone was looking very strange and there was this singing and it was wonderful and...and..."

"Oook."

"Then the Librarian hit me," said Ponder simply.

"Why?"

"Best if he tells it in his own words," said Ponder.

"Oook ook eek. Ook! Ook!"

"Cough, Julia! Over the bender!" said the Bursar.

"I didn't understand what the Librarian said," said Magrat.

"Um. We were all present at an interdimensional rip," said Ponder. "Caused by belief. The play was the last little thing that opened it up. There must have been a very delicate area of instability very close. It's hard to describe, but if you had a rubber sheet and some lead weights I could demonstrate-"

"You're trying to tell me those...things exist because people believe in them?" exist because people believe in them?"

"Oh, no. I imagine they exist anyway. They're here here because people believe in them because people believe in them here here."

"Ook."

"He ran off with us. They shot an arrow at him."

"Eeek."

"But it just made him itch."

"Ook."

"Normally he's as gentle as a lamb. Really he is."

"Ook."

"But he can't abide elves. They smell wrong to him."

The Librarian flared his nostrils.

Magrat didn't know much about jungles, but she thought about apes in trees, smelling the rank of the tiger. Apes never admired the sleek of the fur and the burn of the eye, because they were too well aware of the teeth of the mouth.

"Yes," she said, "I expect they would. Dwarfs and trolls hate them, too. But I think they don't hate them as much as I do."

"You can't fight them all," said Ponder. "They're swarming like bees up there. There's flying ones, too. The Librarian says they made people get fallen trees and things and push those, you know, those stones down? There were some stones on the hill. They attacked them. Don't know why."

"Did you see any witches at the Entertainment?" said Magrat.

"Witches, witches..." muttered Ponder.

"You couldn't have missed them," said Magrat. "There'd be a thin one glaring at everyone and a small fat one cracking nuts and laughing a lot. And they'd be talking to each other very loudly. And they'd both have tall pointy hats."

"Can't say I noticed them," said Ponder.

"Then they couldn't have been there," said Magrat. "Being noticed is what being a witch is all about." She was about to add that she'd never been good at it, but didn't. Instead she said: "I'm going on up there."

"You'll need an army, miss. I mean, you'd have been in trouble just now if the Librarian hadn't been up in the trees."

"But I haven't got an army. So I'm going to have to try by myself, aren't I?"

This time Magrat managed to spur the horse into a gallop.

Ponder watched her go.

"You know, folksongs have got a lot to answer for," he said to the night air.

"Oook."

"She's going to get utterly killed."

"Oook."

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Flowerpot, two pints of eels if you would be so good."

"Of course, it could be her destiny, or one of those sort of things."

"Oook."

"Millennium hand and shrimp."

Ponder Stibbons looked embarra.s.sed.

"Anyone want to follow her?"

"Oook."

"Whoops, there he goes with his big clock."

"Was that a 'yes'?"

"Oook."

"Not yours, his."

"Flobby wobbly, here comes our jelly."

"I think that probably counts as a 'yes'," said Ponder, reluctantly.

"Oook?"

"I've got a lovely new vest."

"But look," said Ponder, "the graveyards are full of people who rushed in bravely but unwisely."

"Ook."

"What'd he say?" said the Bursar, pa.s.sing briefly through reality on his way somewhere else.

"I think he said, 'Sooner or later the graveyards are full of everybody everybody,'" said Ponder. "Oh, blast. Come on."

"Yes indeedy," said the Bursar, "hands up the mittens, Mr. Bosun!"

"Oh, shut up."

Magrat dismounted and let the horse go.

She knew she was near the Dancers now. Colored light flickered in the sky.

She wished she could go home.

The air was colder here, far too cold for a midsummer night. As she plodded onward, flakes of snow swirled in the breeze and turned to rain.

Ridcully materialized inside the castle, and then clung on to a pillar for support until he got his breath back. Transmigration always made blue spots appear in front of his eyes.

No one noticed him. The castle was in turmoil.

Not everyone had run home. Armies had marched across Lancre many times over the last few thousand years, and the recollection of the castle's thick safe safe walls had been practically engraved in the folk memory. walls had been practically engraved in the folk memory. Run to the castle Run to the castle. And now it held most of the little country's population.

Ridcully blinked. People were milling around and being harangued by a small young man in loose-fitting chain-mail and one arm in a sling, who seemed to be the only person with any grip on things.

When he was certain he could walk straight, Ridcully headed toward him.

"What's going on, young-" he began, and then stopped. Shawn Ogg looked around.

"The scheming minx!" said Ridcully, to the air in general. "'Oh, go back and get it then,' she said, and I fell right for it! Even if I could could cut the mustard again I don't know where we were!" cut the mustard again I don't know where we were!"

"Sir?" said Shawn.

Ridcully shook himself. "What's happening?" he said.