Snuff

back behind them, and Angua said, carefully, “I can. Would you be so good as to introduce us to your great-grandmother, Billy?”
    Carrot still fought for any kind of vision but heard what he thought was the goblin boy speaking, although it sounded as if he was chewing gravel at the same time. Then, after a sense of movement in the darkness, another voice, cracking like ice, answered him. Then Billy quite clearly said, “Regret of the Falling Leaf welcomes you, watchmen, and bids you give her the bloody brandy right now.”
    Carrot held the bottle out in the direction of Billy’s voice, and it was swiftly passed on to the shape beginning to form in front of him as sight trickled back. The shape apparently said, according to Billy, “Why you come to me, po-leess-man? Why you need help from dying lady? What is unggue to you, Mr. Po-leess-man? Unggue is ours, ours! No good for you here, big Mr. po-leess-man!”
    â€œWhat is unggue, madam?” said Carrot.
    â€œNo religion, no ringing bellsey, no knees all bendey, no chorus, no hallelujah, no by your leave, just unggue, pure unggue! Just unggue, who come when need. Little unggue! When gods wash hands and turn away there is unggue who roll up the sleeves! Unggue strikes in the dark. If unggue don’t come himself, he send. Unggue is everywhere!”
    Carrot cleared his throat. “Regret of the Falling Leaf, we have a man, a policeman, a good man, who is dying of unggue. We don’t understand; please help us understand. In his hand he is holding an unggue pot.”
    The screech must have echoed around the works; it certainly made the little shack rock. “Unggue thief! Pot stealer! Not fit to live!” Billy translated with every sign of embarrassment. The old goblin woman tried to stand up and sank back into her cushions, muttering.
    Angua tried: “You are wrong, old lady. This pot came to him by chance. He found it, it is the pot called soul of tears.”
    Regret of the Falling Leaf had filled the world with noise. Now she appeared to empty it with silence. She said, bitterly and come to that, curiously, considering the fact that her great grandson said she didn’t know much Ankh-Morporkian, “Found in goblin cave, oh yes! Found on end of shovel, oh yes! Bad cess to him!”
    â€œNo!” Suddenly Carrot was face to face with the goblin woman. “It came to him by accident, like a curse. He never wanted it and he didn’t know what it was. He found it in a cigar.”
    There was a pause in which, presumably, the old woman was doing some complex thinking, because she said, “Would you pay me my price, Mr. Po-leess-man?”
    â€œWe gave you the brandy,” said Angua.
    â€œIndeedy, wolf whelp, but that was for consultation only. Now it’s price for diagnosis and cure, which will be from the snuff mill, two pounds of sweet raspberry, one pound of angler’s chum, and one pound of Dr. Varies’ medicated upright mixture, just the job on a winter’s day.” Something like a laugh escaped from the old goblin woman’s mouth. “Glad of the fresh air,” she added. “My lad he gets around and about and says you are trustworthy, but goblins have learned not to rely on word, so we will seal the bargain the old way, which we have all understood since time was time.”
    The bewildered Billy stood back as a long hand with longer fingernails extended toward Carrot, who spat on his own hand and slapped it, with no thought of health and safety, on to the palm of Regret of the Fallen Leaf who cackled again. “That can’t be broke, that, it can’t be broke. Never .” After a moment’s hesitation she said in an offhand voice, “Wash hand after using.”
    There was a glug from the brandy bottle, and Billy Slick’s old granny went on, “A pot of tears, you say?” Angua nodded. “If so, only one meaning. A poor goblin woman, a starving woman, had to eat her newborn baby, because she could not feed it. I hear you stop breathing for a moment. That such things happen? Is awful truth, oh yes. Is often awful truth in bad country when times are hard and food is nothing. And so, weeping, she carved a little unggue pot for soul of her baby and cried life into it and sent it away until better times when baby will come back.”
    Quietly, Carrot said, “Could you tell us anything more, madam?”
    The old goblin was silent for a