Witches Abroad

again, or Embers,” said Magrat.
    “They’ll have Mrs. Gogol,” muttered Granny. “She’ll be one o’ them eminences greases .”
    “Well, she’s not too bad,” said Nanny.
    “In the swamp she’s not too bad,” said Granny. “With someone to balance her up she’s not too bad. But Mrs. Gogol tellin’ a whole city what to do…that’s not right. Magic’s far too important to be used for rulin’ people. Anyway, Lily only had people killed—Mrs. Gogol’d set ’em to choppin’ wood and doin’ chores afterward. I reckon, after you’ve had a busy life, you ort to be able to relax a bit when you’re dead.”
    “Lie back and enjoy it, sort of thing,” said Nanny.
    Granny looked down at the white dress.
    “I wish I had my old clothes on,” she said. “Black’s the proper color for a witch.”
    She strode down the steps, and then cupped her hands around her mouth.
    “Coo-ee! Mrs. Gogol!”
    Baron Saturday stopped speaking. Mrs. Gogol nodded at Granny.
    “Yes, Miss Weatherwax?”
    “ Mistress ,” snapped Granny, and then softened her voice again.
    “This ain’t right, you know. She’s the one who ought to rule, fair enough. And you used magic to help her this far, and that’s all right. But it stops right here. It’s up to her what happens next. You can’t make things right by magic. You can only stop making them wrong.”
    Mrs. Gogol pulled herself up to her full, impressive height. “Who’s you to say what I can and can’t do here?”
    “We’re her godmothers,” said Granny.
    “That’s right,” said Nanny Ogg.
    “We’ve got a wand, too,” said Magrat.
    “But you hate godmothers, Mistress Weatherwax,” said Mrs. Gogol.
    “We’re the other kind,” said Granny. “We’re the kind that gives people what they know they really need, not what we think they ought to want.”
    Among the fascinated crowd several pairs of lips moved as people worked this out.
    “Then you’ve done your godmothering,” said Mrs. Gogol, who thought faster than most. “You did it very well.”
    “You didn’t listen,” said Granny. “There’s all sorts of things to godmotherin’. She might be quite good at ruling. She might be bad at it. But she’s got to find out for herself. With no interference from anyone.”
    “What if I say no?”
    “Then I expect we’ll just have to go on godmotherin’,” said Granny.
    “Do you know how long I worked to win?” said Mrs. Gogol, haughtily. “Do you know what I lost ?”
    “And now you’ve won, and there’s the end of it,” said Granny.
    “Are you looking to challenge me, Mistress Weatherwax?”
    Granny hesitated, and then straightened her shoulders. Her arms moved away from her sides, almost imperceptibly. Nanny and Magrat moved away slightly.
    “If that’s what you want.”
    “My voodoo against your…headology?”
    “If you like.”
    “And what’s the stake?”
    “No more magic in the affairs of Genua,” said Granny. “No more stories. No more godmothers. Just people, deciding for themselves. For good or bad. Right or wrong.”
    “Okay.”
    “And you leave Lily Weatherwax to me.”
    Mrs. Gogol’s intake of breath was heard around the hall.
    “Never!”
    “Hmm?” said Granny. “You don’t think you’re going to lose, do you?”
    “I don’t want to hurt you, Mistress Weatherwax,” said Mrs. Gogol.
    “That’s good,” said Granny. “I don’t want you to hurt me either.”
    “I don’t want there to be any fighting,” said Ella.
    They all looked at her.
    “She’s the ruler now, ain’t she?” said Granny. “We’ve got to listen to what she says.”
    “I’ll keep out of the city,” said Mrs. Gogol, ignoring her, “but Lilith is mine.”
    “No.”
    Mrs. Gogol reached into her bag, and flourished the raggedy doll.
    “See this?”
    “Yes. I do,” said Granny.
    “It was going to be her. Don’t let it be you.”
    “Sorry, Mrs. Gogol,” said Granny firmly, “but I see my duty plain.”
    “You’re a clever woman, Mistress Weatherwax. But you’re a long way from home.”
    Granny shrugged. Mrs. Gogol held up the doll by its waist. It had sapphire blue eyes.
    “You know about magic with mirrors? This is my kind of mirror, Mistress Weatherwax. I can make it be you . And then I can make it suffer . Don’t make me do that. Please.”
    “Please yourself, Mrs. Gogol. But I’ll deal with Lily.”
    “I should box a bit clever if I was you, Esme,” muttered Nanny Ogg. “She’s good at this sort of