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'But . . . but ... I wanted revenge,' said the Baron. 'I wanted death. I wanted our daughter in power.'
TWO OUT OF THREE ISN'T BAD.
Mrs Gogol and the Baron turned around. Death put down his drink and stepped forward. Baron Saturday straightened up. 'I am ready to go with you,' he said.
Death shrugged. Ready or not, he seemed to indicate, was all the same to him.
'But I held you off,' the Baron added. 'For twelve years!" He put his arm around Erzulie's shoulders. 'When they killed me and threw me in the river, we stole life from you!'
YOU STOPPED LIVING. YOU NEVER DIED. I DID NOT COME FOR YOU THEN.
'You didn't?'
I HAD AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOU TONIGHT.
The Baron handed his cane to Mrs Gogol. He removed the tall black hat. He shrugged off the coat.
Power crackled in its folds.
'No more Baron Saturday,' he said.
PERHAPS. IT'S A NICE HAT.
The Baron turned to Erzulie.
'I think I have to go.'
'Yes.'
'What will you do?'
The voodoo woman looked down at the hat in her hands.
'I will go back to the swamp,' she said.
'You could stay here. I don't trust that foreign witch.'
'I do. So I will go back to the swamp. Because some stories have to end. Whatever Ella becomes, she'll have to make it herself.'
It was a short walk to the brown, heavy waters of the river.
The Baron paused at the edge.
'Will she live happily ever after?' he said.
NOT FOREVER. BUT PERHAPS FOR LONG ENOUGH.
And so stories end.
The wicked witch is defeated, the ragged princess comes into her own, the kingdom is restored. Happy days are here again. Happy ever after. Which means that life stops here.
Stories want to end. They don't care what happens next. . .
Nanny Ogg panted along a corridor.
'Never seen Esme like that before,' she said. 'She's in a very funny mood. She could be a danger to herself.'
'She's a danger to everyone else,' said Magrat. 'She - '
