Wintersmith

the Feegles. That was how she could tell they were there. They always hid from her when they knew she was angry.
    Well, this time she was really angry. Not at the Feegles (much), although the stupid hiding trick got on her nerves, but at Miss Tick and Granny Weatherwax and Annagramma and Miss Treason (for dying), and the Wintersmith himself (for a lot of reasons she hadn’t had time to sort out yet).
    She stepped back and went quiet.
    There was always a feeling of sinking slowly and peacefully, but this time it was like a dive into darkness.
    When she opened her eyes, it felt as if she were looking through windows into a huge hall. Sound seemed to be coming from a long way away, and there was an itching between her eyes.
    Feegles appeared, from under leaves, behind twigs, even from under plates. Their voices sounded as though they were underwater.
    “Ach, crivens! She’s done some big hagglin’ on us!”
    “She’s ne’er done that before!”
    Hah, I’m hiding from you, thought Tiffany. Bit of a change, eh? Hmm, I wonder if I can move. She took a step sideways. The Feegles didn’t seem to see it.
    “She’s gonna jump oot on us any moment! Ooohhh, waily—”
    Ha! If I could walk up to Granny Weatherwax like this, she’d have to be so impressed—
    The itch on Tiffany’s nose was getting worse, and there was a feeling that was similar to, but fortunately not yet the same as, the need to visit the privy. It meant: Something is going to happen soon, so it would be a good idea to be ready for it.
    The sound of the voices began to get clearer, and little blue and purple spots ran across her vision.
    And then there was something that, if it had made a noise, would have gone wwwhamp! It was like the popping you got in your ears after a high broomstick flight. She reappeared in the middle of the Feegles, causing immediate panic.
    “Stop stealing the funeral meats right now, you wee scuggers!” she shouted.
    The Feegles stopped and stared at her. Then Rob Anybody said: “Socks wi’oot feets?”
    There was one of those moments—you got a lot of them around the Feegles—when the world seems to have got tangled up and it is so important to unravel the knot before you can go any further.
    “What are you talking about?” asked Tiffany.
    “Scuggers,” said Rob Anybody. “They’re like socks wi’oot feets in ’em. For keepin’ yer legs warm, ye ken?”
    “You mean like legwarmers?” said Tiffany.
    “Aye, aye, that would be a verra guid name for ’em, it bein’ what they do,” said Rob. “In point o’ fact, mebbe the term ye meant to use wuz ‘thievin’ scunners,’ which means—”
    “—us,” said Daft Wullie helpfully.
    “Oh. Yes. Thank you,” said Tiffany quietly. She folded her arms and then shouted, “Right, you thieving scunners! How dare you steal Miss Treason’s funeral meats!”
    “Oh, waily waily, it’s the Foldin’ o’ the Arms, the Foooldin’ o’ the Aaaarmss!” cried Daft Wullie, dropping to the ground and trying to cover himself with leaves. Around him Feegles started to wail and cower, and Big Yan began to bang his head on the rear wall of the dairy.
    “Now then, ye must all stay calm!” yelled Rob Anybody, turning around and waving his hands desperately at his brothers.
    “There’s the Pursin’ o’ the Lips!” a Feegle shouted, pointing a shaking finger at Tiffany’s face. “She’s got the knowin’ o’ the Pursin’ o’ the Lips! ’Tis Doom come upon us a’!”
    The Feegles tried to run, but since they were panicking again, they mostly collided with one another.
    “I’m waiting for an explanation!” said Tiffany.
    The Feegles froze, and every face turned toward Rob Anybody.
    “An Explanation?” he said, shifting uneasily. “Oh, aye. An Explanation. Nae problemo. An Explanation. Er…what kind would you like?”
    “What kind? I just want the truth!”
    “Aye? Oh. The truth? Are you sure?” Rob ventured rather nervously. “I can do much more interestin’ Explanations than that—”
    “Out with it!” snapped Tiffany, tapping her foot.
    “Ach, crivens, the Tappin’ o’ the Feets has started!” moaned Daft Wullie. “There’s gonna be witherin’ scoldin’ at any moment!”
    And that was it. Tiffany burst out laughing. You couldn’t look at a bunch of frightened Nac Mac Feegles and not laugh. They were so bad at it. One sharp word and they were like a basket of scared puppies, only smellier.
    Rob Anybody gave her a lopsided