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The Duc sprawled in a chair in one corner, all black silk and well-turned legs. Lilith would not normally allow anyone inside the nest of mirrors but it was, technically, his castle. Besides, he was too vain and stupid to know what was going on. She'd seen to that. At least, she'd thought she had. Lately, he seemed to be picking things up. . .
'I don't know why you have to do that,' he whined. 'I thought magic was just a matter of pointing and going whoosh.'
Lilith picked up her hat, and glanced at a mirror as she adjusted it.
'This way's safer,' she said. 'It's self-contained. When you use mirror magic, you don't have to rely on anyone except yourself. That's why no-one's ever conquered the world with magic . . . yet. They try to take it from . . . other places. And there's always a price. But with mirrors, you're beholden to no-one but your own soul.'
She lowered the veil from the hat brim. She preferred the privacy of a veil, outside the security of the mirrors.
'I hate mirrors,' muttered the Duc.
'That's because they tell you the truth, my lad.'
'It's cruel magic, then.'
Lilith tweaked the veil into a fetching shape.
'Oh, yes. With mirrors, all the power is your own. There's nowhere else it can come from,' she said.
'The swamp woman gets it from the swamp,' said the Duc.
'Ha! And it'll claim her one day. She doesn't understand what she's doing.'
'And you do?'
She felt a pang of pride. He was actually resenting her! She really had done a good job there.
'I understand stories,' she said. 'That's all I need.'
'But you haven't brought me the girl,' said the Duc. 'You promised me the girl. And then it'll be all over and I can sleep in a real bed and I won't need any more reflecting magic —'
But even a good job can go too far.
'You've had your fill of magic?' said Lilith sweetly. 'You'd like me to stop? It would be the easiest thing in the world. I found you in the gutter. Would you like me to send you back?'
His face became a mask of panic.
'I didn't mean that! I just meant . . . well, then everything will be real. Just one kiss, you said. I can't see why that's so hard to arrange.'
'The right kiss at the right time,' said Lilith. 'It has to be at the right time, otherwise it won't work.' She smiled. He was trembling, partly out of lust, mainly out of terror, and slightly out of heredity.
'Don't worry,' she said. 'It can't not happen.'
'And these witches you showed me?'
'They're just . . . part of the story. Don't worry about them. The story will just absorb them. And you'll get her because of stories. Won't that be nice? And now . . . shall we go? I expect you've got some ruling to do?'
He picked up the inflexion. It was an order. He stood up, extended an arm to take hers, and together they went down to the palace's audience chamber.
Lilith was proud of the Duc. Of course, there was his embarrassing little nocturnal problem, because his morphic field weakened when he slept, but that wasn't yet a major difficulty. And there was the trouble with mirrors, which showed him as he really was, but that was easily overcome by banning all mirrors save hers. And then there were his eyes. She couldn't do anything about the eyes. There was practically no magic that could do anything about someone's eyes. All she had been able to come up with there were the smoked glasses.
Even so, he was a triumph. And he was so grateful. She'd been good for him.
She'd made a man of him, for a start.
Some way downriver from the waterfall, which was the second highest anywhere on the Disc and had been discovered in the Year of the Revolving Crab by the noted explorer Guy de Yoyo,* Granny Weatherwax sat in front of a small fire with a towel around her shoulders and steamed.
'Still, look on the bright side,' said Nanny Ogg. 'At least I was holding my broom and you at the same time. And Magrat had hers. Otherwise we'd all be looking at the waterfall from underneath.'
