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'Is it anything to do with maypoles and folksongs and suchlike?' said Granny.
'Oh, yes.'
'Then I don't want to hear about it.'
'No,' said Lily. 'I imagine you don't.'
She handed the stick back.
'I'm staying here,' she said. 'Mrs Gogol may have come up with a new trick, but that doesn't mean she has won.'
'No. Things have come to an end, see,' said Granny. 'That's how it works when you turn the world into stories. You should never have done that. You shouldn't turn the world into stories. You shouldn't treat people like they was characters, like they was things. But if you do, then you've got to know when the story ends.'
'You've got to put on your red-hot shoes and dance the night away?' said Lily.
'Somethin' like that, yes.'
'While everyone else lives happily ever after?'
'I don't know about that,' said Granny. 'That's up to them. What I'm sayin' is, you're not allowed to go round one more time. You've lost.'
'You know a Weatherwax never loses,' said Lily.
'One of 'em learns tonight,' said Granny.
'But we're outside the stories,' said Lily. 'Me because I . . . am the medium through which they happen, and you because you fight them. We're the ones in the middle. The free ones -'
There was a sound behind them. The faces of Magrat and Nanny Ogg appeared over the top of the stairwell.
'You need any help, Esme?' said Nanny cautiously.
Lily laughed.
'Here's your little snakes, Esme.'
'You know,' she added, 'you're really just like me. Don't you know that? There isn't a thought that's gone through my head that you haven't thought, too. There isn't a deed I've done that you haven't contemplated. But you never found the courage. That's the difference between people like me and people like you. We have the courage to do what you only dream of.'
'Yes?' said Granny. 'Is that what you think? You think I dream?'
Lily moved a finger. Magrat floated up out of the stairwell, struggling. She waved her wand frantically.
'That's what I like to see,' said Lily. 'People wishing. I never wished for anything in my life. I always made things happen. So much more rewarding.'
Magrat gritted her teeth.
'I'm sure I wouldn't look good as a pumpkin, dear,' said Lily. She waved a hand airily. Magrat rose.
'You'd be surprised at the things I can do,' said Lily dreamily, as the younger witch drifted smoothly over the flagstones. 'You should have tried mirrors yourself, Esme. It does wonders for a soul. I only let the swamp woman survive because her hate was invigorating. I do like being hated, you know. And you do know. It's a kind of respect. It shows you're having an effect. It's like a cold bath on a hot day. When stupid people find themselves powerless, when they fume in their futility, when they're beaten and they've got nothing but that yawning in the acid pit of their stomachs - well, to be honest, it's like a prayer. And the stories ... to ride on stories ... to borrow the strength of them . . . the comfort of them ... to be in the hidden centre of them . . . Can you understand that? The sheer pleasure of seeing the patterns repeat themselves? I've always loved a pattern. Incidentally, if the Ogg woman continues to try to sneak up behind me I shall really let your young friend drift out over the courtyard and then, Esme, I might just lose interest.'
'I was just walkin' about,' said Nanny. 'No law against it.'
'You changed the story your way, and now I'm going to do it mine,' said Lily. 'And once again ... all you have to do is go. Just go away. What happens here doesn't matter. It's a city far away of which you know little. I'm not totally certain I could out-trick you,' she added, 'but these two . . . they haven't got the right stuff in them. I could make jam of them. I hope you know that. So tonight, I suggest, a Weatherwax learns to lose?'
Granny stood silent for a while, leaning on her useless broom.
'All right. Put her down,' she said. 'And then I'll say you've won.'
'I wish I could believe that,' said Lily. 'Oh . . . but you're the nice one, aren't you? You have to keep your word.'
