The chilly feeling crept over Nanny Ogg that Granny Weatherwax meant it.

'I never thought I'd hear you say that,' she muttered.

'Off you go. No sense in keepin' the baby out in the cold.'

'And what are you going to do?'

'Maybe I shall move on. Maybe I'll just stop here.'

'Can't stop here for ever, Esme.'

'Ask her that is by the door.'

That seemed to be all there was going to be. Nanny walked out, found the others looking slightly too innocent in the next cave, and led the way to the open air.

'Found your pipe, then,' said Magrat.

'Yes, thank you.'

'What's she going to do?' said Agnes.

'You tell me,' said Nanny. 'I knows you was listenin'. You wouldn't be witches if you wasn't listenin' somehow.'

'Well, what can we do that she can't? If she's beaten, then so are we, aren't we?'

'What did Granny mean, "from can to can't"?' said Magrat.

'Oh, from the first moment in the morning when you can see to the last moment in the evenin' when you can't,' said Nanny.

'She's really feeling low, isn't she?'

Nanny paused by the stone witch. Her pipe had gone out. She struck a match on the hooked nose.

'There's three of us,' she said. 'The right number. So we'll start by having a proper coven meetin'...'

'Aren't you worried?' said Agnes. 'She's... giving up... '

'Then it's up to us to carry on, isn't it?' said Nanny.

Nanny had placed the cauldron in the middle of the floor for the look of the thing, although an indoor coven meeting didn't feel right, and one without Granny Weatherwax felt worse.

Perdita said it made them look like soppy girls playing at it. The only fire in the room was in the huge black iron range, the very latest model, recently installed for Nanny by her loving sons. On it, the kettle began to boil.

'I'll make the tea, shall I?' said Magrat, getting up.

'No, you sit down. It's Agnes's job to make the tea,' said Nanny. 'You're the mother, so it's your job to pour.'

'What's your job, Nanny?' said Agnes.

'I drinks it,' said Nanny promptly. 'Right. We've got to find out more while they're still actin' friendly. Agnes, you go back to the castle with Magrat and the baby. She needs extra help anyway.'

'What good will that do?'

'You told me yourself,' said Nanny. 'Vampires don't affect you. As soon as they try to see Agnes's mind it sinks down and up pops Perdita like a seesaw. Just when they're looking at Perdita, here comes Agnes again. Young Vlad's definitely got his eye on you, ain't he?'

'Certainly not!'

'Yeah, right,' said Nanny. 'Men always like women that've got a bit of mystery to 'em. They like a challenge, see? And while he's got his eye on you keeping your eye on Magrat, you've got your other eye on him, understand? Everyone's got a weakness. Maybe we'll not see the back of these vampires by going over to the curtains and saying, "My, isn't it stuffy in here?" but there's got to be some other way.'

'And if there isn't?'

'Marry him,' said Nanny firmly. Magrat gasped. The teapot rattled in her hand.

'That's horrible!' she said.

'I'd rather kill myself,' said Agnes. In the morning, said Perdita.

'Dun't have to be a long marriage,' said Nanny. 'Put a pointy stake in your garter and our lad'll be getting cold even before they've finished cutting up the wedding cake.'

'Nanny!'

'Or maybe you could just sort of... make him change his ways a bit,' Nanny went on. 'It's amazing what a wife can do if she knows her own mind, or minds in your case, course. Look at King Verence the First, for one. He used to toss all his meat bones over his shoulder until he was married and the Queen made him leave them on the side of the plate. I'd only bin married to the first Mr Ogg for a month before he was getting out of the bath if he needed to pee. You can refine a husband. Maybe you could point him in the direction of blutwurst and black puddings and underdone steak.'

'You really haven't got any scruples, have you, Nanny?' said Agnes.

'No,' said Nanny simply. 'This is Lancre we're talkin' about. If we was men, we'd be talking about layin' down our lives for the country. As women, we can talk about laying down.'

'I just don't want to hear this,' said Magrat.

'I ain't asking her to do what I wouldn't do,' said Nanny.

'Really? Then why-'

'Because no one wants me to do it,' said Nanny. 'But if I was fifty years younger I reckon I could have Sonny Jim bitin' turnips by midsummer.'

'You mean just because she's a woman she should use sexual wiles on him?' said Magrat. 'This is so... so... well, it's so Nanny Ogg, that's all I can say.'

'She should use any vale she can lay her hands on,' said Nanny. 'I don't care what Granny said, there's always a way. Like the hero in Tsort or wherever it was, who was completely invincible except for his heel and someone stuck a spear in it and killed him...'

'What are you expecting her to do, prod him all over?'

' 'I never understood that story, anyway,' said Nanny. 'I mean, if I knew I'd got a heel that would kill me if someone stuck a spear in it, I'd go into battle wearing very heavy boots-'

'You don't know what he's like,' said Agnes, ignoring the diversion. 'He looks at me as if he's undressing me with his eyes.'

'Eyes is allowed,' said Nanny.

'And he's laughing at me all the time! As if he knows I don't like him and that adds to the fun!'

'Now you get into that castle!' Nanny growled. 'For Lancre! For the Kingl For everyone in the country! And if he gets too much, let Perdita take over, 'cos I reckon there's some things she's better at!'

In the shocked silence there was a faint clinking noise from Nanny's sideboard.

Magrat coughed. 'J-just like the old days,' she said. 'Arguing all the time.'

Nanny stood up and unhooked a cast-iron saucepan from the beam over the kitchen range.

'You can't treat people like this,' said Agnes sullenly.

'I can,' said Nanny, tiptoeing in the direction of the sideboard. 'I'm the other one now, see?'

Ornaments flew and shattered as she brought the saucepan down hard, bottom upwards.

'Got you, you little blue devil!' she shouted. 'Don't think I didn't see you!'

The saucepan rose. Nanny leaned her weight on the handle but it still moved slowly along the dresser, rocking slightly from side to side, until it reached the edge.

Something red and blue dropped on to the floor and started moving towards the closed door.

At the same time Greebo shot past Agnes, accelerating. And then, just as he was about to spring, he changed his mind. All four feet extended their claws at the same time and bit into the floorboards. He rolled, sprang on to his feet, and started to wash himself.

The red and blue blur hit the door and picked itself up, becoming a blue man, six inches tall, with red hair. He carried a sword about the same size as himself.

'Ach, hins tak yer scaggie, yer dank yowl callyake!' he screamed.

'Oh, it's you,' said Nanny, relaxing. 'Do you want a drink?'

The sword was lowered slightly, but with a definite hint that it could be raised again at a moment's notice.

"tazit?'

Nanny reached down to the crate by her chair and sorted through the bottles.

'Scumble? My best. Vintage,' she said.

The wee man's tiny eyes lit up. 'Las' Tuesda?'

'Right. Agnes, open that sewing box and pass me a thimble, will you? Come away here, man,' said Nanny, uncorking the bottle well away from the fire and filling up the thimble. 'Ladies, this here's... let's see them tattoos... yeah, this here's one of the Nac mac Feegle. The little bastards comes down and raids my still about once a year. I reckon I recognize the pattern.'

'Pings, yow graley yinl Suz ae rikt dheu,' said the blue man, taking the thimble.