Witches Abroad

chop-chop.”
    “No. It wouldn’t be a good idea,” Magrat persisted.
    “Oh, all right,” said Nanny. She handed the empty jug to Baron Saturday, who took it in a kind of hypnotic daze.
    “We’re just going to sort things out,” she said. “Sorry about this. On with the motley…if anyone’s got any left.”

    When the witches had gone Mrs. Gogol reached down and picked up the damp remains of the doll.
    One or two people coughed.
    “Is that it?” said the Baron. “After twelve years?”
    “The Prince is dead,” said Mrs. Gogol. “Such as he was.”
    “But you promised that I would be revenged on her ,” the Baron said.
    “I think there will be revenge,” said Mrs. Gogol. She tossed the doll onto the floor. “Lilith has been fighting me for twelve years and she never got through. This one didn’t even have to sweat. So I think there will be revenge.”
    “You don’t have to keep your word!”
    “I do. I’ve got to keep something.” Mrs. Gogol put her arm around Ella’s shoulder.
    “This is it, girl,” she said. “Your palace. Your city. There isn’t a person here who will deny it.”
    She glared at the guests. One or two of them stepped backward.
    Ella looked up at Saturday.
    “I feel I should know you,” she said. She turned to Mrs. Gogol. “And you,” she added. “I’ve seen you both…before. A long time ago?”
    Baron Saturday opened his mouth to speak. Mrs. Gogol held up her hand.
    “We promised,” she said. “No interference.”
    “Not from us ?”
    “Not even from us.” She turned back to Ella. “We’re just people.”
    “You mean…” said Ella, “I’ve slaved in a kitchen for years…and now…I’m supposed to rule the city? Just like that?”
    “That’s how it goes.”
    Ella looked down, deep in thought.
    “And anything I say people have to do?” she said innocently.
    There were a few nervous coughs from the crowd.
    “Yes,” said Mrs. Gogol.
    Ella stood looking down at the floor, idly biting a thumbnail. Then she looked up.
    “Then the first thing that’s going to happen is the end of the ball. Right now! I’m going to find the carnival. I’ve always wanted to dance in the carnival.” She looked around at the worried faces. “It’s not compulsory for anyone else to come,” she added.
    The nobles of Genua had enough experience to know what it means when a ruler says something is not compulsory.
    Within minutes the hall was empty, except for three figures.
    “But…but…I wanted revenge ,” said the Baron. “I wanted death . I wanted our daughter in power.”
    T WO OUT OF THREE ISN’T BAD .
    Mrs. Gogol and the Baron turned around. Death put down his drink and stepped forward.
    Baron Saturday straightened up.
    “I am ready to go with you,” he said.
    Death shrugged. Ready or not, he seemed to indicate, was all the same to him.
    “But I held you off,” the Baron added. “For twelve years!” He put his arm around Erzulie’s shoulders. “When they killed me and threw me in the river, we stole life from you!”
    Y OU STOPPED LIVING . Y OU NEVER DIED . I DID NOT COME FOR YOU THEN .
    “You didn’t?”
    I HAD AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOU TONIGHT .
    The Baron handed his cane to Mrs. Gogol. He removed the tall black hat. He shrugged off the coat.
    Power crackled in its folds.
    “No more Baron Saturday,” he said.
    P ERHAPS . I T’S A NICE HAT .
    The Baron turned to Erzulie.
    “I think I have to go.”
    “Yes.”
    “What will you do?”
    The voodoo woman looked down at the hat in her hands.
    “I will go back to the swamp,” she said.
    “You could stay here. I don’t trust that foreign witch.”
    “I do. So I will go back to the swamp. Because some stories have to end. Whatever Ella becomes, she’ll have to make it herself.”
    It was a short walk to the brown, heavy waters of the river.
    The Baron paused at the edge.
    “Will she live happily ever after?” he said.
    N OT FOREVER . B UT PERHAPS FOR LONG ENOUGH .
    And so stories end.
    The wicked witch is defeated, the ragged princess comes into her own, the kingdom is restored. Happy days are here again. Happy ever after. Which means that life stops here.
    Stories want to end. They don’t care what happens next…

    Nanny Ogg panted along a corridor.
    “Never seen Esme like that before,” she said.“She’s in a very funny mood. She could be a danger to herself.”
    “She’s a danger to everyone else,” said Magrat. “She—”
    The snake women stepped out into the passageway