tp.wyrd sisters-第15节

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　'No。'
　'Oh。'
　Magrat　shivered。　She　told　herself　that　a　witch　had　absolute　control　over　her　own　body；　and　the　goosepimples　under　her　tun　nightdress　were　just　a　figment　of　her　own　imagination。　The　trouble　was；　she　had　an　excellent　imagination。
　Nanny　Ogg　sighed。
　'We'd　better　have　a　look；　then；'　she　said；　and　took　the　lid　off　the　copper。
　Nanny　Ogg　never　used　her　washhouse。；　since　all　her　washing　was　done　by　the　daughers…in…law；　a　tribe　of　grey…faced；　subdued　women　whose　names　she　never　bothered　to　remember。　It　had　bee；　therefore；　a　storage　place　for　dried…up　old　bulbs；　burnt…out　cauldrons　and　fermenting　jars　of　wasp　jam。　No　fire　had　been　lit　under　the　copper　for　ten　years。　Its　bricks　were　crumbling；　and　rare　ferns　grew　around　the　firebox。　The　water　under　the　lid　was　inky　black　and；　according　to　rumour；　bottomless；　the　Ogg　grandchildren　were　encouraged　to　believe　that　monsters　from　the　dawn　of　time　dwelt　in　its　depths；　since　Nanny　believed　that　a　bit　of　thrilling　and　pointless　terror　was　an　essential　ingredient　of　the　magic　of　childhood。
　In　summer　she　used　it　as　a　beer　cooler。
　'It'll　have　to　do。　I　think　perhaps　we　should　join　hands；'　she　said。　'And　you；　Magrat；　make　sure　the　door's　shut。'
　'What　are　you　going　to　try？'　said　Granny。　Since　they　were　on　Nanny's　territory；　the　choice　was　entirely　up　to　her。
　'I　always　say　you　can't　go　wrong　with　a　good　Invocation；'　said　Nanny。　'Haven't　done　one　for　years。'
　Granny　Weatherwax　frowned。　Magrat　said；　'Oh；　but　you　can't。　Not　here。　You　need　a　cauldron；　and　a　magic　sword。　And　an　octogram。　And　spices；　and　all　sorts　of　stuff。'
　Granny　and　Nanny　exchanged　glances。
　'It's　not　her　fault；'　said　Granny。　'It's　all　them　grimmers　she　was　bought。'　She　turned　to　Magrat。
　'You　don't　need　none　of　that；'　she　said。　'You　need　head…ology。'　She　looked　around　the　ancient　washroom。
　'You　just　use　whatever　you've　got；'　she　said。
　She　picked　up　the　bleached　copper　stick；　and　weighed　it　thoughtfully　in　her　hand。
　
　'We　conjure　and　abjure　thee　by　means　of　this…'　Granny　hardly　paused　…　'sharp　and　terrible　copper　stick。'
　The　waters　in　the　boiler　rippled　gently。
　'See　how　we　scatter…'　Magrat　sighed　…　'rather　old　washing　soda　and　some　extremely　hard　soap　flakes　in　thy　honour。　Really；　Nanny；　I　don't　think…'
　'Silence！　Now　you；　Gytha。'
　'And　I　invoke　and　bind　thee　with　the　balding　scrubbing　brush　of　Art　and　the　washboard　of　Protection；'　said　Nanny；　waving　it。　The　wringer　attachment　fell　off。
　'Honesty　is　all　very　well；'　whispered　Magrat；　wretchedly；　'but　somehow　it　isn't　the　same。'
　'You　listen　to　me；　my　girl；'　said　Granny。　'Demons　don't　care　about　the　outward　shape　of　things。　It's　what　you　think　that　matters。　Get　on　with　it。'
　Magrat　tried　to　imagine　that　the　bleached　and　ancient　bar　of　lye　soap　was　the　rarest　of　scented　whatever；　ungulants　or　whatever　they　were；　from　distant　Klatch。　It　was　an　effort。　The　gods　alone　knew　what　kind　of　demon　would　respond　to　a　summoning　like　this。
　Granny　was　also　a　little　uneasy。　She　didn't　much　care　for　demons　in　any　case；　and　all　this　business　with　incantations　and　implements　whiffed　of　wizardry。　It　was　pandering　to　the　things；　making　them　feel　important。　Demons　ought　to　e　when　they　were　called。
　But　protocol　dictated　that　the　host　witch　had　the　choice；　and　Nanny　quite　liked　demons；　who　were　male；　or　apparently　so。
　At　this　point　Granny　was　alternately　cajoling　and　threatening　the　nether　world　with　two　feet　of　bleached　wood。　She　was　impressed　at　her　own　daring。
　The　waters　seethed　a　little；　became　very　still　and　then；　with　a　sudden　movement　and　a　little　popping　noise；　mounded　up　into　a　head。　Magrat　dropped　her　soap。
　It　was　a　good…looking　head；　maybe　a　little　cruel　around　the　eyes　and　beaky　about　the　nose…；　but　nevertheless　handsome　in　a　hard　kind　of　way。　There　was　nothing　surprising　about　this；　since　the　demon　was　only　extending　an　image　of　itself　into　this　reality；　it　might　as　well　make　a　good　job　of　it。　It　turned　slowly；　a　gleaming　black　statue　in　the　fitful　moonlight。
　'Well？'　it　said。
　'Who're　you？'　said　Granny；　bluntly。
　The　head　revolved　to　face　her。
　'My　name　is　unpronounceable　in　your　tongue；　woman；'　it　said。
　'I'll　be　the　judge　of　that；'　warned　Granny；　and　added；　'Don't　you　call　me　woman。'
　'Very　well。　My　name　is　WxrtHltl…jwlpklz；'　said　the　demon　smugly。
　'Where　were　you　when　the　vowels　were　handed　out？　Behind　the　door？'　said　Nanny　Ogg。
　'Well；　Mr…　Granny　hesitated　only　fractionally　…　'WxrtHltl…jwlpklz；　I　expect　you're　wondering　why　we　called　you　here　tonight。'
　'You're　not　supposed　to　say　that；'　said　the　demon。　'　You're　supposed　to　say…'
　'Shut　up。　We　have　the　sword　of　Art　and　the　octogram　of　Protection；　I　warn　you。'
　'Please　yourself。　They　look　like　a　washboard　and　a　copper　stick　to　me；'　sneered　the　demon。
　Granny　glanced　sideways。　The　corner　of　the　washroom　was　stacked　with　kindling　wood；　with　a　big　heavy　sawhorse　in　front　of　it。　She　stared　fixedly　at　the　demon　and；　without　looking；　brought　the　stick　down　hard　across　the；　thick　timber。
　The　dead　silence　that　followed　was　broken　only　by　the　two　perfectly…sliced　halves　of　the　sawhorse　teetering　backwards　and　forwards　and　folding　slowly　into　the　heap　of　kindling。
　The　demon's　face　remained　impassive。
　'You　are　allowed　three　questions；'　it　said。
　'Is　there　something　strange　at　large　in　the　kingdom？'　said　Granny。
　It　appeared　to　think　about　it。
　'And　no　lying；'　said　Magrat　earnestly。　'Otherwise　it'll　be　the　scrubbing　brush　for　you。'
　'You　mean　stranger　than　usual？'
　'Get　on　with　it；'　said　Nanny。　'My　feet　are　freezing　out　here。'
　'No。　There　is　nothing　strange。'
　'But　we　felt　it…'　Magrat　began。
　'Hold　on；　hold　on；'　said　Granny。　Her　lips　moved　soundlessly。　Demons　were　like　genies　or　philosophy　professors　…　if　you　didn't　word　things　exactly　right；　they　delighted　in　giving　you　absolutely　accurate　and　pletely　misleading　answers。
　'Is　there　something　in　the　kingdom　that　wasn't　there　before？'　she　hazarded。
　'No。'
　Tradition　said　that　there　could　be　only　three　questions。　Granny　tried　to　formulate　one　that　couldn't　be　deliberately　misunderstood。　Then　she　decided　that　this　was　playing　the　wrong　kind　of　game。
　'What　the　hell's　going　on？'　she　said　carefully。　'And　no　mucking　about　trying　to　wriggle　out　of　it；　otherwise　I'll　boil　you。'
　The　demon　appeared　to　hesitate。　This　was　obviously　a　new　approach。
　'Magrat；　just　kick　that　kindling　over　here；　will　you？'　said　Granny。
　'I　protest　at　this　treatment；'　said　the　demon；　its　voice　tinged　with　uncertainty。
　'Yes；　well；　we　haven't　got　time　to　bandy　legs　with　you　all　night；'　said　Granny。　These　word　games　might　be　all　right　for　wizards；　but　we've　got　other　fish　to　fry。'
　'Or　boil；'　said　Nanny。
　'Look；'　said　the　demon；　and　now　there　was　a　whine　of　terror　in　its　voice。　'We're　not　supposed　to　volunteer　information　just　like　that。　There　are　rules；　you　know。'
　'There's　some　old　oil　in　the　can　on　the　shelf；　Magrat；'　said　Nanny。
　'If　I　simply　tell　you…'　the　demon　began。
　'Yes？'　said　Granny；　encouragingly。
　'You　won't　let　on；　will　you？'　it　implored。
　'Not　a　word；'　promised　Granny。
　'Lips　are　sealed；'　said　Magrat。
　'There　is　nothing　new　in　the　kingdom；'　said　the　demon；　'but　the　land　has　woken　up。'
　'What　do　you　mean？'　said　Granny。
　'It's　unhappy。　It　wants　a　king　that　cares　for　it。'
　'How…'　Magrat　began；　but　Granny　waved　her　into　silence。
　'You　don't　mean　people；　do　you？'　she　said。　The　glistening　head　shook。　'No；　I　didn't　think　so。'
　'What…'　Nanny　began。　Granny　put　a　finger　to　her　lips。
　She　turned　and　walked　to　the　washhouse's　window；　a　dusty　spiderweb　graveyard　of　faded　butterfly　wings　and　last　summer's　bluebottles。　A　faint　glow　beyond　the　frosted　panes　suggested　that；　against　all　reason；　a　new　day　would　soon　dawn。
　'Can　you　tell　us　why？'　she　said；　without　turning　round。　She'd　felt　the　mind　of　a　whole　country　。　。　。
　She　was　rather　impressed。
　'I'm　just　a　demon。　What　do　I　know？　Only　what　is；　not　the　why　and　how　of　it。'
　'I　see。'
　'May　I　go　now？'
　'Um？'
　'Please？'
　Granny　jerked　upright　again。
　'Oh。　Yes。　Run　along；'　she　said　distractedly。　'Thank　you。'
　The　head　didn't　move。　It　hung　around；　like　a　hotel　porter　who　has　just　carried　fifteen　suitcases　up　ten　flights　of　stairs；　shown　everyone　where　the　bathroom　is；　plumped　up　the　pillows；　and　feels　he　has　adjusted　all　the　curtains　he　is　going　to　adjust。
　'You　wouldn't　mind　banishing　me；　would　you？'　said　the　demon；　when　no…one　seemed　to　be　taking　the　hint。
　'What？'　said　Granny；　who　was　thinking　again。
　'Only　I'd　feel　better　for　being　properly　banished。　〃Run　along〃　lacks　that　certain　something；'　said　the　head。
　'Oh。　Well；　if　it　gives　you　any　pleasure。　Magrat！'
　'Yes？'　said　Magrat；　startled。
　Granny　tossed　the　copper　stick　to　her。
　'Do　the　honours；　will　you？'　she　said。
　Magrat　caught　the　stick　by　what　she　hoped　Granny　was　imagining　as　the　handle；　and　smiled。
　'Certainly。　Right。　Okay。　Um。　Begone；　foul　fiend；　unto　the　blackest　pit…'
　The　head　smiled　contentedly　as　the　words　rolled　over　it。　This　was　more　like　it。
　It　melted　back　into　the　waters　of　the　copper　like　candlewax　under　a　flame。　Its　last　contemptuous　ment；　almost　lost　in　the　swirl；　was；　'Run　aaaalonggg　。　。　。'
　
　Granny　went　ho