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'Want to,' said Greebo sulkily.
'You always do, that's your trouble,' said Nanny, and smiled at Ella. 'Out you come, dear.'
Greebo shrugged, and then slunk off, dragging the stunned coachman after him.
'What's happening?' complained Ella. 'Oh. Magrat. Did you do this?'
Magrat allowed herself a moment's shy pride.
'I said you wouldn't have to go to the ball, didn't I?'
Ella looked around at the disabled coach, and then back to the witches.
'You ain't got any snake women in there with you, have you?' said Granny. Magrat gripped the wand.
'They went on ahead,' said Ella. Her face clouded as she recalled something.
'Lilith turned the real coachmen into beetles,' she whispered. 'I mean, they weren't that bad! She made them get some mice and she made them human and then she said, there's got to be balance, and the sisters dragged in the coachmen and she turned them into beetles and then . . . she trod on them . . .'
She stopped, horrified.
A firework burst in the sky, but in the street below a bubble of terrible silence hung in the air.
'Witches don't kill people,' said Magrat.
'This is foreign parts,' muttered Nanny, looking away.
'I think,' said Granny Weatherwax, 'that you ought to get right away from here, young lady.'
'They just went crack - '
'We've got the brooms,' said Magrat. 'We could all get away.'
'She'd send something after you,' said Ella darkly. 'I know her. Something from out of a mirror.'
'So we'd fight it,' said Magrat.
'No,' said Granny.' Whatever's going to happen's going to happen here. We'll send the young lady off somewhere safe and then ... we shall see.'
'But if I go away she'll know,' said Ella. 'She's expecting to see me at the ball right now! And she'll come looking!'
'That sounds right, Esme,' said Nanny Ogg. 'You want to face her somewhere you choose. I don't want her lookin' for us on a night like this. I want to see her coming.'
There was a fluttering in the darkness above them. A small dark shape glided down and landed on the cobbles. Even in the darkness its eyes gleamed. It stared expectantly at the witches with far too much intelligence for a mere fowl.
'That's Mrs Gogol's cockerel,' said Nanny, 'ain't it?'
'Exactly what it is I might never exactly decide,' said Granny. 'I wish I knew where she stood.'
'Good or bad, you mean?' said Magrat.
'She's a good cook,' said Nanny. 'I don't think anyone can cook like she do and be that bad.'
'Is she the woman who lives out in the swamp?' said Ella. 'I've heard all kinds of stories about her.'
'She's a bit too ready to turn dead people into zombies,' said Granny. 'And that's not right.'
'Well, we just turned a cat into a person - I mean, a human person' - Nanny, inveterate cat lover, corrected herself- 'and that's not strictly right either. It's probably a long way from strictly right.'
