Lords and Ladies

said.
    “What others?” said Magrat.
    “I think there’s definitely been a cross-continuum breakthrough, and I’m sure there’s a difference in energy levels.”
    “But what others ?” Magrat insisted.
    Ponder Stibbons glanced nervously at the surrounding forest.
    “Let’s get off the path. There’s a lot more elves back there.”
    Ponder disappeared into the undergrowth. Magrat followed him, and found a second wizard propped against a tree like a ladder. He had a huge smile creasing his face.
    “The Bursar,” said Ponder. “I think we may have overdone the dried frog pills a bit.” He raised his voice. “How…are…you…doing…sir?”
    “Why, I’ll have a little of the roast weasel, if you would be so good,” said the Bursar, beaming happily at nothing.
    “Why’s he gone so stiff?” said Magrat.
    “We think it’s some kind of side effect,” said Ponder.
    “Can’t you do anything about it?”
    “What, and have nothing to cross streams on?”
    “Call again tomorrow, baker, and we’ll have a crusty one!” said the Bursar.
    “Besides, he seems quite happy,” said Ponder. “Are you a warrior, miss?”
    “What?” said Magrat.
    “Well, I mean, the armor and everything…”
    Magrat looked down. She was still holding the sword. The helmet kept falling over her eyes, but she’d padded it a bit with a scrap of wedding dress.
    “I…er…yes. Yes, that’s right. That’s what I am,” she said. “Absolutely. Yes.”
    “Here for the wedding, I expect. Like us.”
    “That’s right. Definitely here for the wedding. That’s true.” She changed her grip on the sword. “Now tell me what happened,” she said. “Paying particular attention to what happened to the others.”
    “Well…” Ponder absentmindedly picked up a corner of his torn robe and began to screw it up in his fingers. “We all went to see this Entertainment, you see. A play. You know. Acting? And, and it was very funny. There were all these yokels in their big boots and everything, straw wigs and everything, clumping around pretending to be lords and ladies and everything, and getting it all wrong. It was very funny. The Bursar laughed at them a lot. Mind you, he’s been laughing at trees and rocks, too. But everyone was having fun. And then…and then…”
    “I want to know everything,” said Magrat.
    “Well…well…then there was this bit I can’t really remember. It was something to do with the acting, I think. I mean, suddenly…suddenly it all seemed real . Do you know what I mean?”
    “No.”
    “There was this chap with a red nose and bandy legs and he was playing the Queen of the Fairies or something and suddenly he was still him but…everything felt…everything round me just vanished, there was just the actors…and there was this hill…I mean, they must have been good, because I really believed…I think at some point I remember someone asking us to clap our hands…and everyone was looking very strange and there was this singing and it was wonderful and…and…”
    “Oook.”
    “Then the Librarian hit me,” said Ponder simply.
    “Why?”
    “Best if he tells it in his own words,” said Ponder.
    “Oook ook eek. Ook! Ook!”
    “Cough, Julia! Over the bender!” said the Bursar.
    “I didn’t understand what the Librarian said,” said Magrat.
    “Um. We were all present at an interdimensional rip,” said Ponder. “Caused by belief. The play was the last little thing that opened it up. There must have been a very delicate area of instability very close. It’s hard to describe, but if you had a rubber sheet and some lead weights I could demonstrate—”
    “You’re trying to tell me those… things exist because people believe in them?”
    “Oh, no. I imagine they exist anyway. They’re here because people believe in them here .”
    “Ook.”
    “He ran off with us. They shot an arrow at him.”
    “Eeek.”
    “But it just made him itch.”
    “Ook.”
    “Normally he’s as gentle as a lamb. Really he is.”
    “Ook.”
    “But he can’t abide elves. They smell wrong to him.”
    The Librarian flared his nostrils.
    Magrat didn’t know much about jungles, but she thought about apes in trees, smelling the rank of the tiger. Apes never admired the sleek of the fur and the burn of the eye, because they were too well aware of the teeth of the mouth.
    “Yes,” she said, “I expect they would. Dwarfs and trolls hate them, too. But I think they don’t hate them as much as I