Hogfather Part 52

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

Death prodded the fallen Teatime with his foot.

STOP PLAYING DEAD, MISTER T TEH-AH-TIM-EH.

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

"You got it right!"

OF COURSE.

Teatime began to fade.

I'LL TAKE THE BODY, said Death. THAT WILL PREVENT INCONVENIENT QUESTIONS.

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

SOME PEOPLE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THE SHEER FASCINATION OF DOING IT, said Death. OR FOR FAME. OR 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.

ER...YOU DID KNOW KNOW THE POKER WOULD GO THROUGH ME THE POKER WOULD GO THROUGH ME?

Susan realized she was shaking.

"Of course. In this room it's pretty powerful."

YOU WERE NEVER IN ANY DOUBT?.

Susan hesitated, and then smiled.

"I was quite confident," she said.

AH. Her grandfather stared at her for a moment and she thought she detected just the tiniest flicker of uncertainty. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. TELL 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.

I HAVE MADE THIS FOR YOU HAVE MADE THIS FOR YOU.

She reached out and took a square of damp cardboard. Water dripped off the bottom. Somewhere in the middle, a few brown feathers seemed to have been glued on.

"Thank you. Er...what is it?"

ALBERT SAID THERE OUGHT TO BE SNOW ON IT, BUT IT APPEARS TO HAVE MELTED, said Death. IT IS, OF COURSE, A H HOGSWATCH CARD.

"Oh..."

THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A ROBIN ON IT AS WELL, BUT I I HAD CONSIDERABLE DIFFICULTY IN GETTING IT TO STAY ON HAD CONSIDERABLE DIFFICULTY IN GETTING IT TO STAY ON.

"Ah..."

IT WAS NOT AT ALL CO-OPERATIVE.

"Really...?"

IT DID NOT SEEM TO GET INTO THE H HOGSWATCH SPIRIT AT ALL.

"Oh. Er. Good. Granddad?"

YES?.

"Why? I mean, why did you do all this?"

He stood quite still for a moment, as if he was trying out sentences in his mind.

I THINK IT'S SOMETHING TO DO WITH HARVESTS THINK IT'S SOMETHING TO DO WITH HARVESTS, he said at last. YES. THAT'S RIGHT. AND BECAUSE HUMANS ARE SO INTERESTING THAT THEY HAVE EVEN INVENTED DULLNESS. QUITE ASTONIs.h.i.+NG.

"Oh."

WELL THEN...HAPPY H HOGSWATCH.

"Yes. Happy Hogswatch."

Death paused again, at the window.

AND GOOD NIGHT, CHILDREN...EVERYWHERE.

The raven fluttered down onto a log covered in snow. Its prosthetic red breast had been torn and fluttered uselessly behind it.

"Not so much as a lift home," it muttered. "Look at this, w.i.l.l.ya? Snow and frozen wastes, everywhere. I couldn't fly another d.a.m.n inch. I could starve to death here, you know? Hah! People're going on about recycling the whole time, but you just try a bit of practical ecology and they just...don't...want...to...know. Hah! I bet a robin robin'd have a lift home. Oh, yes."

SQUEAK, said the Death of Rats sympathetically, and sniffed.

The raven watched the small hooded figure scrabble at the snow.

"So I'll just freeze to death here, shall I?" it said gloomily. "A pathetic bundle of feathers with my little feet curled up with the cold. It's not even as if I'm gonna make anyone a good meal, and let me tell you it's a disgrace to die thin in my spec-"

It became aware that under the snow was a rather grubbier whiteness. Further sc.r.a.ping by the rat exposed something that could very possibly have been an ear.

The raven stared. "It's a sheep sheep!" it said.

The Death of Rats nodded.

"A whole whole sheep!" sheep!"*

SQUEAK.

"Oh, wow!" said the raven, hopping forward with its eyes spinning. "Hey, it's barely cool!"

The Death of Rats patted it happily on a wing.

SQUEAK-EEK. EEK-SQUEAK...

"Why, thanks. And the same to you..."

Far, far away and a long, long time ago, a shop door opened. The little toy maker bustled in from the workshop in the rear, and then stopped, with amazing foresight, dead.

YOU HAVE A BIG WOODEN ROCKING HORSE IN THE WINDOW, said the new customer.

"Ah, yes, yes, yes." The shopkeeper fiddled nervously with his square-rimmed spectacles. He hadn't heard the bell, and this was worrying him. "But I'm afraid that's just for show, that is a special order for Lord-"

NO. I WILL BUY IT WILL BUY IT.

"No, because, you see-"

THERE ARE OTHER TOYS?.

"Yes, indeed, but-"

THEN I I WILL TAKE THE HORSE WILL TAKE THE HORSE. HOW MUCH WOULD THIS LORDs.h.i.+P HAVE PAID YOU?.

"Er, we'd agreed twelve dollars but-"

I WILL GIVE YOU FIFTY WILL GIVE YOU FIFTY, said the customer.

The little shopkeeper stopped in mid-remonstrate and started up in mid-greed. There were were other toys, he told himself quickly. And this customer, he thought with considerable prescience, looked like someone who did not take no for an answer and seldom even bothered to ask the question. Lord Selachii would be angry, but Lord Selachii wasn't here. The stranger, on the other hand, was here. Incredibly here. other toys, he told himself quickly. And this customer, he thought with considerable prescience, looked like someone who did not take no for an answer and seldom even bothered to ask the question. Lord Selachii would be angry, but Lord Selachii wasn't here. The stranger, on the other hand, was here. Incredibly here.

"Er...well, in the circ.u.mstances...er...shall I wrap it up for you?"

NO. I WILL TAKE IT AS IT IS WILL TAKE IT AS IT IS. THANK YOU. I WILL LEAVE VIA THE BACK WAY, IF IT'S ALL THE SAME TO YOU WILL LEAVE VIA THE BACK WAY, IF IT'S ALL THE SAME TO YOU.

"Er...how did you get in in?" said the shopkeeper, pulling the horse out of the window.

THROUGH THE WALL. SO MUCH MORE CONVENIENT THAN CHIMNEYS, DON'T YOU THINK?

The apparition dropped a small clinking bag on the counter and lifted the horse easily. The shopkeeper wasn't in a position to hold onto anything. Even yesterday's dinner was threatening to leave him.

The figure looked at the other shelves.

YOU MAKE GOOD TOYS.

"Er...thank you."

INCIDENTALLY, said the customer, as he left, THERE IS A SMALL BOY OUT THERE WITH HIS NOSE FROZEN TO THE WINDOW. SOME WARM WATER SHOULD DO THE TRICK.

Death walked out to where Binky was waiting in the snow and tied the toy horse behind the saddle.

ALBERT WILL BE VERY PLEASED. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIS FACE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIS FACE. HO. HO. HO.

As the light of Hogswatch slid down the towers of Unseen University, the Librarian slipped into the Great Hall with some sheet music clenched firmly in his feet.

As the light of Hogswatch lit the towers of Unseen University, the Archchancellor sat down with a sigh in his study and pulled off his boots.

It had been a d.a.m.n long night, no doubt about it. Lots of strange things. First time he'd ever seen the Senior Wrangler burst into tears, for one thing.

Ridcully glanced at the door to the new bathroom. Well, he'd sorted out the teething troubles, and a nice warm shower would be very refres.h.i.+ng. And then he could go along to the organ recital all nice and clean.

He removed his hat, and someone fell out of it with a tinkling sound. A small gnome rolled across the floor.

"Oh, another one. I thought we'd got rid of you fellows," said Ridcully. "And what are you one. I thought we'd got rid of you fellows," said Ridcully. "And what are you?"

The gnome looked at him nervously.

"Er...you know whenever there was another magical appearance you heard the sound of, er, bells?" it said. Its expression suggested it was owning up to something it just knew was going to get it a smack.

"Yes?"

The gnome held up some rather small hand bells and waved them nervously. They went glingleglingleglingle, in a very sad way.

"Good, eh? That was me. I'm the Glingleglingleglingle Fairy."

"Get out."

"I also do sparkly fairy dust effects that go twing twing too, if you like too, if you like..."

"Go away!"

"How about 'The Bells of St. Ungulant's'?" said the gnome desperately. "Very seasonal. Very nice. Why not join in? It goes: 'The bells [clong] of St. [clang]...'"

Ridcully scored a direct hit with the rubber duck, and the gnome escaped through the bath overflow. Cursing and spontaneous hand bell ringing echoed away down the pipes.

In perfect peace at last, the Archchancellor pulled off his robe.

The organ's storage tanks were wheezing at the rivets by the time the Librarian had finished pumping. Satisfied, he knuckled his way up to the seat and paused to survey, with great satisfaction, the keyboards in front of him.