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'I'll keep out of the city,' said Mrs Gogol, ignoring her, 'but Lilith is mine.'
'No.'
Mrs Gogol reached into her bag, and flourished the raggedy doll. 'See this?'
'Yes. I do,' said Granny.
'It was going to be her. Don't let it be you.'
'Sorry, Mrs Gogol,' said Granny firmly, 'but I see my duty plain.'
'You're a clever woman, Mistress Weatherwax. But you're a long way from home.'
Granny shrugged. Mrs Gogol held up the doll by its waist. It had sapphire blue eyes.
'You know about magic with mirrors? This is my kind of mirror, Mistress Weatherwax. I can make it be you. And then I can make it suffer. Don't make me do that. Please.'
'Please yourself, Mrs Gogol. But I'll deal with Lily.'
'I should box a bit clever if I was you, Esme,' muttered Nanny Ogg. 'She's good at this sort of thing.'
'I think she could be very ruthless,' said Magrat.
'I've got nothing but the greatest respect for Mrs Gogol,' said Granny. 'A fine woman. But talks a bit too much. If I was her, I'd have had a couple of big nails right through that thing by now.'
'You would, too,' said Nanny. 'It's a good thing you're good, ain't it.'
'Right,' said Granny, raising her voice again. 'I'm going to find my sister, Mrs Gogol. This is family.'
She walked steadfastly towards the stairs.
Magrat took out the wand.
'If she does anything bad to Granny, she's going to go through the rest of her life bright orange and round, with seeds in,' she said.
'I don't think Esme would like it if you did something like that,' said Nanny. 'Don't worry. She doesn't believe all that stuff about pins and dolls.'
'She doesn't believe anything. But that doesn't matter!' said Magrat. 'Mrs Gogol does! It's her power! It's what she thinks that matters.'
'Don't you reckon Esme knows that too?'
Granny Weatherwax reached the foot of the stairs.
'Mistress Weatherwax!'
Granny turned.
Mrs Gogol had a long sliver of wood in her hand. Shaking her head desperately, she jabbed it into the doll's foot.
Everyone saw Esme Weatherwax wince.
Another sliver was thrust into a raggedy arm.
Slowly, Granny raised her other hand and shuddered when she touched her sleeve. Then, limping slightly, she continued to climb the stairs.
'I can do the heart next. Mistress Weatherwax!' shouted Mrs Gogol.
'I'm sure you can. You're good at it. You know you're good at it,' said Granny, without looking around.
