I Shall Wear Midnight

and firewood. I trust my housekeeper has been generous? I told her not to stint.’
    ‘What? Oh, oh yes, sir.’ And that was true enough. Witches lived in a world of second-hand clothes, old sheets (good for making bandages), boots with some life left in them and, of course, hand-me-downs, hand-me-outs, hands-me-ups, hand-me-rounds and hand-me-overs. In such a world, the pickings to be had from a working castle were like being given the key to a mint. As for the money … she turned the leather bag over and over in her hands. It was very heavy.
    ‘What do you do with all that stuff, Miss Tiffany Aching?’
    ‘What?’ she said absentmindedly, still looking at the bag. ‘Oh, er, trade it, pass it on to people who need it … that sort of thing.’
    ‘Miss Tiffany Aching, you are suddenly vague. I believe that you were engrossed in thinking that fifteen dollars isn’t much, is it, for saving the life of the Baron’s son?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘I’ll take that as a “yes” then, shall I?’
    ‘ You will take it from me as a no, sir! I am your witch! ’ She glared at him, panting. ‘And I am trying to balance a rather difficult ball of pain, sir.’
    ‘Ah, Granny Aching’s granddaughter. I humbly beg your forgiveness, as I occasionally should have asked for hers. But nevertheless, will you please do me the favour and honour of taking that bag, Miss Tiffany Aching, and putting its contents to such use as you may determine in memory of me. I’m sure it’s more money than you have ever seen before.’
    ‘I don’t often see any money at all,’ she protested, stunned by this.
    The Baron banged his stick on the floor again, as if applauding. ‘I doubt very much if you have ever seen money like this,’ he said merrily. ‘You see, although there are fifteen dollars in the bag, they are not the dollars that you are used to, or would be if you were used to them at all. They are old dollars, from before they started mucking about with the currency. The modern dollar is mostly brass, in my opinion, and contains as much gold as sea water. These, however, are the real shilling, if you’ll excuse my little joke.’
    Tiffany excused his little joke, because she didn’t get it. He smiled at her puzzlement. ‘In short, Miss Tiffany Aching, if you take these coins to the right dealer, he should pay you, oh, I would estimate somewhere in the region of five thousand Ankh-Morpork dollars. I don’t know what that would be in terms of old boots, but quite possibly it could buy you an old boot the size of this castle.’
    And Tiffany thought: I can’t take this. Apart from anything else the bag had become extremely heavy. Instead, she said, ‘That’s far too much for a witch.’
    ‘But not too much for a son,’ said the Baron. ‘Not too much for an heir, not too much for continuity down the generations. Not too much for removing a lie from the world.’
    ‘But it can’t buy me another pair of hands,’ said Tiffany, ‘or change one second of the past.’
    ‘Nevertheless, I must insist that you take it,’ said the Baron, ‘if not for your sake, then for mine. It will take a burden off my soul and, believe me, it could do with a bit of shining up at this time, don’t you agree? I am going to die soon, am I not?’
    ‘Yes, sir. Very soon, I think, sir.’
    Tiffany was beginning to understand something about the Baron by now, and she wasn’t surprised when he laughed.
    ‘You know,’ he said, ‘most people would have said, “Oh, no, old chap, you’ve got ages yet, you will be up and out of here in no time, lots of life left in you!”’
    ‘Yes, sir. I’m a witch, sir.’
    ‘And in this context that means …?’
    ‘I try very hard not to have to tell lies, sir.’
    The old man shifted in his chair, and was suddenly solemn. ‘When the time comes …’ he began, and hesitated.
    ‘I will keep you company, sir, if you wish,’ said Tiffany.
    The Baron looked relieved. ‘Have you ever seen Death?’
    She had been expecting this and was ready. ‘Usually you just feel him passing, sir, but I have seen him twice, in what would have been the flesh, if he had any. He’s a skeleton with a scythe, just like in the books – in fact, I think it’s because that’s what he looks like in the books. He was polite but firm, sir.’
    ‘I’ll bet he is!’ The old man was silent for a little while and then went on. ‘Did he … drop any hints about the afterlife?’
    ‘Yes, sir. Apparently it contains no