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All three witches felt it - the terrible suction as she tried to concentrate all the power in the vicinity.
Outside, the one guard remaining upright found that he was no longer fighting a man but merely an enraged tomcat, although this was no consolation. It just meant that Greebo had an extra pair of claws.
The Prince screamed.
It was a long, descending scream, and ended in a croak, somewhere around ground level.
Baron Saturday took one heavy, deliberate step forward, and there was no more croak.
The drums stopped abruptly.
And then there was a real silence, broken only by the swish of Lily's dress as she fled up the stairs.
A voice behind the witches said, 'Thank you, ladies. Could you step aside, please?'
They looked around. Mrs Gogol was there, holding Embers by the hand. She had a fat, gaily-embroidered bag over her shoulder.
All three watched as the voodoo woman led the girl down into the hall and through the silent crowds.
"That's not right either,' said Granny under her breath.
'What?' said Magrat. 'What?'
Baron Saturday thumped his stick on the floor.
'You know me,' he said. 'You all know me. You know I was killed. And now here I am. I was murdered and what did you do -?'
'How much did you do, Mrs Gogol?' muttered Granny. 'No, we ain't having this.'
'Ssh, I can't hear what he's saying,' said Nanny.
'He's telling them they can have him ruling them again, or Embers,' said Magrat.
'They'll have Mrs Gogol,' muttered Granny. 'She'll be one o' them eminences greases.'
'Well, she's not too bad,' said Nanny.
'In the swamp she's not too bad,' said Granny. 'With someone to balance her up she's not too bad. But Mrs
Gogol tellin' a whole city what to do ... that's not right. Magic's far too important to be used for rulin' people. Anyway, Lily only had people killed - Mrs Gogol'd set 'em to choppin' wood and doin' chores afterwards. I reckon, after you've had a busy life, you ort to be able to relax a bit when you're dead.'
'Lie back and enjoy it, sort of thing,' said Nanny.
Granny looked down at the white dress.
'I wish I had my old clothes on,' she said. 'Black's the proper colour for a witch.'
She strode down the steps, and then cupped her hands around her mouth.
'Coo-ee! Mrs Gogol!'
Baron Saturday stopped speaking. Mrs Gogol nodded at Granny.
'Yes, Miss Weatherwax?'
'Mistress,' snapped Granny, and then softened her voice again.
'This ain't right, you know. She's the one who ought to rule, fair enough. And you used magic to help her this far, and that's all right. But it stops right here. It's up to her what happens next. You can't make things right by magic. You can only stop making them wrong.'
