Witches Abroad

much point, really.
    And then, of course, there was this other thing…
    She’d wrapped it up carefully into a long, slim package. Now she folded up the letter, addressed it, and pushed it under the string. Job done.
    She looked up. Desiderata had been blind for thirty years, but this hadn’t been a problem. She’d always been blessed, if that was the word, with second sight. So when the ordinary eyes gave out you just trained yourself to see into the present, which anyway was easier than the future. And since the eyeball of the occult didn’t depend on light, you saved on candles. There was always a silver lining, if you knew where to look. In a manner of speaking.
    There was a mirror on the wall in front of her.
    The face in it was not her own, which was round and pink.
    It was the face of a woman who was used to giving orders. Desiderata wasn’t the sort to give orders. Quite the reverse, in fact.
    The woman said, “You are dying, Desiderata.”
    “I am that, too.”
    “You’ve grown old. Your sort always do. Your power is nearly gone.”
    “That’s a fact, Lilith,” said Desiderata mildly.
    “So your protection is withdrawing from her.”
    “’Fraid so,” said Desiderata.
    “So now it’s just me and the evil swamp woman. And I will win.”
    “That’s how it seems, I’m afraid.”
    “You should have found a successor.”
    “Never had the time. I’m not the planning sort, you know.”
    The face in the mirror got closer, as if the figure had moved a little nearer to its side of the mirror.
    “You’ve lost , Desiderata Hollow.”
    “So it goes.” Desiderata got to her feet, a little unsteadily, and picked up a cloth.
    The figure seemed to be getting angry. It clearly felt that people who had lost ought to look downcast, and not as if they were enjoying a joke at your expense.
    “Don’t you understand what losing means ?”
    “Some people are very clear about that,” said Desiderata. “Goodbye, m’lady.” She hung the cloth over the mirror.
    There was an angry intake of breath, and then silence.
    Desiderata stood as if lost in thought.
    Then she raised her head, and said: “Kettle boiled just now. Would you like a cup of tea?”
    N O, THANK YOU , said a voice right behind her.
    “How long have you been waiting?”
    F OREVER .
    “Not keeping you, am I?”
    I T’S A QUIET NIGHT .
    “I’m making a cup of tea. I think there’s one biscuit left.”
    N O, THANK YOU .
    “If you feel peckish, it’s in the jar on the mantelpiece. That’s genuine Klatchian pottery, you know. Made by a genuine Klatchian craftsman. From Klatch,” she added.
    I NDEED ?
    “I used to get about a lot in my younger days.”
    Y ES ?
    “Great times.” Desiderata poked the fire. “It was the job, you see. Of course, I expect it’s very much the same for you.”
    Y ES .
    “I never knew when I was going to be called out. Well, of course you’d know about that, wouldn’t you. Kitchens, mainly. It always seemed to be kitchens. Balls sometimes, but generally it was kitchens.” She picked up the kettle and poured the boiling water into the teapot on the hearth.
    I NDEED .
    “I used to grant their wishes.”
    Death looked puzzled.
    W HAT ? Y OU MEAN LIKE…FITTED CUPBOARDS? NEW SINKS ? T HAT KIND OF THING ?
    “No, no. The people .” Desiderata sighed. “It’s a big responsibility, fairy godmothering. Knowing when to stop, I mean. People whose wishes get granted often don’t turn out to be very nice people. So should you give them what they want—or what they need ?”
    Death nodded politely. From his point of view, people got what they were given.
    “Like this Genua thing—” Desiderata began.
    Death looked up sharply.
    G ENUA ?
    “You know it? Well, of course you would.”
    I… KNOW EVERYWHERE, OF COURSE .
    Desiderata’s expression softened. Her inner eyes were looking elsewhere.
    “There were two of us. Godmothers go in twos, you know. Me and Lady Lilith? There’s a lot of power in godmothering. It’s like being part of history. Anyway, the girl was born, out of wedlock but none the worse for that, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t have married, they just never got around to it…and Lilith wished for her to have beauty and power and marry a prince. Hah! And she’s been working on that ever since. What could I do? You can’t argue with wishes like that. Lilith knows the power of a story. I’ve done the best I could, but Lilith’s got the power. I hear she runs the city now. Changing a