There was a rising wheeee wheeee noise. A towel went by at shoulder height. There was a suggestion of many small wings. noise. A towel went by at shoulder height. There was a suggestion of many small wings.
"That was mine," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes reproachfully. The towel disappeared in the direction of the Great Hall.
"Towel Wasps," said the Dean. "Well done, Archchancellor."
"Well, I mean, dammit dammit, it's human nature, isn't it?" said Ridcully hotly. "Things go wrong, things get lost, it's natural natural to invent little creatures that-All right, all right, I'll be careful. I'm just saying man is naturally a mythopoeic creature." to invent little creatures that-All right, all right, I'll be careful. I'm just saying man is naturally a mythopoeic creature."
"What's that mean?" said the Senior Wrangler.
"Means we make things up as we go along," said the Dean, not looking up.
"Um...excuse me, gentlemen," said Ponder Stibbons, who had been scribbling thoughtfully at the end of the table. "Are we suggesting that things are coming back? Do we think that's a viable hypothesis?"
The wizards looked at one another around the table.
"Definitely viable."
"Viable, right enough."
"Yes, that's the stuff to give the troops."
"What is? What's the stuff to give the troops?"
"Well...tinned rations? Decent weapons, good boots...that sort of thing."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Don't ask me. He me. He was the one who started talking about giving stuff to the troops." was the one who started talking about giving stuff to the troops."
"Will you lot shut up? No one's giving anything to the troops!"
"Oh, shouldn't they have something? It's Hogswatch, after all."
"Look, it was just a figure of speech, all right? I just meant I was fully in agreement. It's just colorful language. Good grief, you surely can't think I'm actually suggesting giving stuff to the troops, at Hogswatch or any other time!"
"You weren't?"
"No!"
"That's a bit mean, isn't it?"
Ponder just let it happen. It's because their minds are so often involved with deep and problematic matters, he told himself, that their mouths are allowed to wander around making a nuisance of themselves.
"I don't hold with using that thinking machine," said the Dean. "I've said this before. It's meddling with the cult. The oc occult has always been good enough for me, thank you very much."
"On the other hand it's the only person round here who can think straight and it does what it's told," said Ridcully.
The sleigh roared through the snow, leaving rolling trails in the sky.
"Oh, what fun," muttered Albert, hanging on tightly.
The runners hit a roof near the University and the pigs trotted to a halt.
Death looked at the hourglass again.
ODD, he said.
"It's a scythe job, then?" said Albert. "You won't be wanting the false beard and the jolly laugh?" He looked around, and puzzlement replaced sarcasm. "Hey...how could anyone be dead up here?"
Someone was. A corpse lay in the snow.
It was clear that the man had only just died. Albert squinted up at the sky.
"There's nowhere to fall from and there's no footprints in the snow," he said, as Death swung his scythe. "So where did he come from? Looks like someone's personal guard. Been stabbed to death. Nasty knife wound there, see?"
"It's not good," agreed the spirit of the man, looking down at himself.
Then he stared from himself to Albert to Death and his phantom expression went from shock to concern.
"They got the teeth! All of them! They just walked in...and...they...no, wait..."
He faded and was gone.
"Well, what was that that all about?" said Albert. all about?" said Albert.
I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS HAVE MY SUSPICIONS.
"See that badge on his shirt? Looks like a drawing of a tooth."
YES. IT DOES.
"Where's that come from?"
A PLACE PLACE I I CANNOT GO CANNOT GO.
Albert looked down at the mysterious corpse and then back up at Death's impassive skull.
"I keep thinking it was a funny thing, us bumping into your granddaughter like that," he said.
YES.
Albert put his head on one side. "Given the large number of chimneys and kids in the world, ekcetra."
INDEED.
"Amazing coincidence, really."
IT JUST GOES TO SHOW.
"Hard to believe, you might say."
LIFE CERTAINLY SPRINGS A FEW SURPRISES.
"Not just life, I reckon," said Albert. "And she got real real worked up, didn't she? Flew right off the ole handle. Wouldn't be surprised if she started asking questions." worked up, didn't she? Flew right off the ole handle. Wouldn't be surprised if she started asking questions."
THAT'S PEOPLE FOR YOU.
"But Rat is hanging around, ain't he? He'll probably keep an eye socket on her. Guide her path, prob'ly."
HE IS A LITTLE SCAMP, ISN'T HE?
Albert knew he couldn't win. Death had the ultimate poker face.
I'M SURE SHE'LL ACT SENSIBLY.
"Oh, yeah," said Albert, as they walked back to the sleigh. "It runs in the family, acting sensibly."
Like many barmen, Igor kept a club under the bar to deal with those little upsets that occurred around closing time, although in fact Biers never closed and no one could ever remember not seeing Igor behind the bar. Nevertheless, things sometimes got out of hand. Or paw. Or talon.
Igor's weapon of choice was a little different. It was tipped with silver (for werewolves), hung with garlic (for vampires) and wrapped around with a strip of blanket (for bogeymen). For everyone else the fact that it was two feet of solid bog-oak usually sufficed.
He'd been watching the window. The frost was creeping across it. For some reason the creeping fingers were forming into a pattern of three little dogs looking out of a boot.
Then someone had tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, club already in his hand, and relaxed.
"Oh...it's you, miss. I didn't hear the door."
There hadn't been the door. Susan was in a hurry.
"Have you seen Violet lately, Igor?"
"The tooth girl?" Igor's one eyebrow writhed in concentration. "Nah, haven't seen her for a week or two."
The eyebrow furrowed into a V of annoyance as he spotted the raven, which tried to shuffle behind a half-empty display card of beer nuts.
"You can get that out of here, miss," he said. "You know know the rule 'bout pets and familiars. If it can't turn back into human on demand, it's out." the rule 'bout pets and familiars. If it can't turn back into human on demand, it's out."
"Yeah, well, some of us have more brain cells than fingers," muttered a voice from behind the beer nuts.
"Where does she live?"
"Now, miss, you know I never answers questions like that-"
"WHERE DOES SHE LIVE, IGOR?"
"Shamlegger Street, next to the picture framers," said Igor automatically. The eyebrow knotted in anger as he realized what he'd said.
"Now, miss miss, you know know the rules! I don't get bitten, I don't get me froat torn out and no one hides behind me door! And the rules! I don't get bitten, I don't get me froat torn out and no one hides behind me door! And you you don't try your granddad's voice on me! I could ban you for messin' me about like that!" don't try your granddad's voice on me! I could ban you for messin' me about like that!"
"Sorry, it's important," said Susan. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that the raven had crept onto the shelves and was pecking the top off a jar.
"Yeah, well, suppose one of the vampires decides it's important he's missed his tea?" grumbled Igor, putting the club away.
There was a plink plink from the direction of the pickled egg jar. Susan tried hard not to look. from the direction of the pickled egg jar. Susan tried hard not to look.
"Can we go?" said the oh god. "All this alcohol makes me nervous."
Susan nodded and hurried out.
Igor grunted. Then he went back to watching the frost, because Igor never demanded much out of life. After a while he heard a muffled voice say: "I 'ot 'un! I 'ot 'un!" 'un!"
It was indistinct because the raven had speared a pickled egg with its beak.
Igor sighed, and picked up his club. And it would have gone very hard for the raven if the Death of Rats hadn't chosen that moment to bite Igor on the ear.
DOWN THERE, said Death.
The reins were hauled so sharply so quickly that the hogs ended up facing the other way.
Albert fought his way out of a drift of teddy bears, where he'd been dozing.
"What's up? What's up? Did we hit something?" he said.
Death pointed downward. An endless white snow field lay below, only the occasional glow of a window candle or a half-covered hut indicating the presence on this world of brief mortality.
Albert squinted, and then saw what Death had spotted.
"'s some old bugger trudging through the snow," he said. "Been gathering wood, by the look of it. A bad night to be out," he said. "And I'm out in it, too, come to that. Look, master, I'm sure you've done enough now to make sure-"
SOMETHING'S HAPPENING DOWN THERE. HO. HO. HO.
"Look, he's all right right," said Albert, hanging on as the sleigh tumbled downward. There was a brief wedge of light below as the wood-gatherer opened the door of a snow-drifted hovel. "See, over there, there's a couple of blokes catching him up, look, they're weighed down with parcels and stuff, see? He's going to have a decent Hogswatch after all, no problem there. Now Now can we go-" can we go-"
Death's glowing eye sockets took in the scene in minute detail.
IT'S WRONG.