Hogfather

by Terry Pratchett

Page 30

 

  Ive seen dozens of pictures of it, said Susan, ignoring him. You put the sky overhead because the skys above you and when you are a couple of feet high theres not a lot of sideways to the sky in any case. And everyone tells you grass is green and water is blue. This is the landscape you paint. Twyla paints like that. I painted like that. Grandfather saved some of- She stopped. All children do it, anyway, she muttered. Come on, lets find the house.

  What house? the oh god moaned. And can you speak quieter, please?

  Therell be a house, said Susan, standing up. Theres always a house. With four windows. And the smoke coming out of the chimney all curly like a spring. Look, this is a place like gr--- Deaths country. Its not really geography. The oh god walked over to the nearest tree and banged his head on it as if he hoped it was going to hurt. Feels like geofy, he muttered. But have you ever seen a tree like that? A big green blob on a brown stick? It looks like a lollipop! said Susan, pulling him along. Dunno. Firs time I ever saw a tree. Arrgh. Somethin dropped on mhead. He blinked owlishly at the ground.

  s red.

  Its an apple, she said. She sighed. Everyone knows apples are red. There were no bushes. But there were flowers, each with a couple of green leaves. They grew individually, dotted around the rolling green. And then they were out of the trees and there, by a bend in the river, was the house. It didnt look very big. There were four windows and a door. Corkscrew smoke curled out of the chimney. You know, its a funny thing, said Susan, staring at it. Twyla draws houses like that. And she practically lives in a mansion. I drew houses like that. And I was born in a palace. Why?

  Praps its all this house, muttered the oh. god miserably. What? You really think so? Kids paintings are all of this place? Its in our heads?

  Dont ask me, I was just making conversation, said the oh god. Susan hesitated. The words What Now? loomed. Should she just go and knock? And she realized that was normal thinking. . . In the glittering, clattering, chattering atmosphere a head waiter was having a difficult time. There were a lot of people in, and the staff should have been fully stretched, putting bicarbonate of soda in the white wine to make very expensive bubbles and cutting the vegetables very small to make them cost more. Instead they were standing in a dejected group in the kitchen. Where did it all go? screamed the manager. Someones been through the cellar, too!

  William said he felt a cold wind, said the waiter. Hed been backed up against a hot plate, and now knew why it was called a hot plate in a way he hadnt fully comprehended before. Ill give him a cold wind! Havent we got anything?

  Theres odds and ends. . You dont mean odds and ends, you mean des curieux et des bouts, corrected the manager. Yeah, right, yeah. And, er, and, er . . Theres nothing else?

  Er. . . old boots. Muddy old boots.

  Old-?

  Boots. Lots of em, said the waiter. He felt he was beginning to singe. How come weve got. . . vintage footwear?

  Dunno. They just turned up, sir. The oven, s full of old boots. Sos the pantry.

  Theres a hundred people booked in! All the shopsll be shut! Wheres Chef?

  Williams trying to get him to come out of the privy, sir. Hes locked himself in and is having one of his Moments.

  Somethings cooking. Whats that I can smell?

  Me, sir.

  Old boots muttered the manager. Old boots. . . old boots. . . Leather, are they? Not clogs or rubber or anything?

  Looks like. . . just boots. And lots of mud, sir. The manager took off his jacket. All right. Cot any cream, have we? Onions? Garlic? Butter? Some old beef bones? A bit of pastry?

  Er, yes. . . The manager rubbed his hands together. Right, he said, taking an apron off a hook. You there, get some water boiling! Lots of water! And find a really large hammer! And you, chop some onions! The rest of you, start sorting out the boots. I want the tongues out and the soles off. Well do them. . . lets see. . . Mousse de la Boue dans une Panier de la Pate de Chaussures. . .

  Wherere we going to get that from, sir?

  Mud mousse in a basket of shoe pastry. Get the idea? Its not our fault if even Quirmians dont understand restaurant Quirmian. Its not like lying, after all.

  Well, its a bit like- the waiter began. Hed been cursed with honesty at an early stage. Then theres Brodequin rôti Façon Ombres . . The manager sighed at the head waiters panicky expression. Soldiers boot done in the Shades fashion, he translated. Er. . . Shades fashion?

  In mud. But if we cook the tongues separately we can put on Languette braisée, too.

  Theres some ladies shoes, sir, said an underchef. Right. Add to the menu. . . Lets see now. . . Sole dune Bonne Femme. . . and. . . yes. . . Servis dans un Coulis de Terre en IEau. Thats mud, to you.

  What about the laces, sir? said another underchef. Good thinking. Dig out that recipe for Spaghetti Carbonara.

  Sir? said the head waiter. I started off as a chef, said the manager, picking up a knife. How do you think I was able to afford this place? I know how its done. Get the look and the sauce right and youre threequarters there.

  But its all going to be old boots! said the waiter. Prime aged beef, the manager corrected him. Itll tenderize in no time.

  Anyway. . . anyway. . . we havent got any soup Mud. And a lot of onions.

  Theres the puddings---

  Mud. Lets see if we can get it to caramelize, you never know.

  I cant even find the coffee. . . Still, they probably wont last till the coffee. . .

  Mud. Cafe de Terre,’ said the manager firmly. Genuine ground coffee.

  Oh, theyll spot that, sir!

  They havent up till now, said the manager darkly. Well never get away with it, sir. Never. In the country of the sky on top, Medium Dave Lilywhite hauled another bag of money down the stairs. There must be thousands here, said Chickenwire. Hundreds of thousands, said Medium Dave. And whats all this stuff? said Catseye, opening a box.

  s just paper. He tossed it aside. Medium Dave sighed. He was all for class solidarity, but sometimes Catseye got on his nerves. Theyre title deeds, he said. And theyre better than money. Tapers bettern money? said Catseye. Hah, if you can burn it you cant spend it, thats what I say.

  Hang on, said Chickenwire. I know about them. The Tooth Fairy owns property?

  Cot to raise money somehow, said Medium Dave. All those half-dollars under the pillow.

  If we steal them, do they become ours?

  Is that a trick question? said Catseye, smirking. Yeah, but. . . ten thousand each doesnt sound such a lot, when you see all this.

  He wont miss a-- Gentlemen. . . They turned. Teatime was in the doorway. We were just. . . we were just piling up the stuff, said Chickenwire. Yes. I know. I told you to.

  Right. Thats right. You did, said Chickenwire gratefully. And theres such a lot, said Teatime. He gave them a smile. Catseye coughed.

  s got to be thousands, said Medium Dave. And what about all these deeds and so on? Look, this ones for that pipe shop in Honey Trap Lane! In Ankh-Morpork! I buy my tobacco there! Old Thimble is always moaning about the rent, too!

  Ah. So you opened the strongboxes, said Teatime pleasantly. Well. . . yes. . .

  Fine. Fine, said Teatime. I didnt ask you to, but. . . fine, fine. And how did you think the Tooth Fairy made her money? Little gnomes in some mine somewhere? Fairy gold? But that turns to trash in the morning! He laughed. Chickenwire laughed. Even Medium Dave laughed. And then Teatime was on him, pushing him irresistibly backwards until he hit the wall. There was a blur and he tried to blink and his left eyelid was suddenly a rose of pain. Teatimes good eye was close to him, if you could call it good. The pupil was a dot. Medium Dave could just make out his hand, right by Medium Daves face. It was holding a knife. The point of the blade could only be the merest fraction of an inch from Medium Daves right eye. I know people say Id kill them as soon as look at them, whispered Teatime. And in fact Id much rather kill you than look at you, Mr Lilywhite. You stand in a castle of gold and plot to steal pennies
. Oh, dear. What am I to do with you? He relaxed a little, but his hand still held the knife to Medium Daves unblinking eye. Youre thinking that Banjo is going to help you, he said. Thats how its always been, isnt it? But Banjo likes me. He really does. Banjo is my friend. Medium Dave managed to focus beyond Teatimes ear. His brother was just standing there, with the blank face he had while he waited for another order or a new thought to turn up. If I thought you were feeling bad thoughts about me I would be so downcast, said Teatime. I do not have many friends left, Mr Medium Dave. He stood back and smiled happily. All friends now? he said, as Medium Dave slumped down. Help him, Banjo. On cue, Banjo lumbered forward. Banjo has the heart of a little child, said Teatime, the knife disappearing somewhere about his clothing. I believe I have, too. The others were frozen in place. They hadnt moved since the attack. Medium Dave was a heavy- set man and Teatime was a matchstick model, but hed lifted Medium Dave off his feet like a feather. As far as the money goes, in fact, I really have no use for it, said Teatime, sitting down on a sack of silver. It is small change. You may share it out amongst yourselves, and no doubt youll squabble and doublecross one another more tiresomely. Oh, dear. It is so awful when friends fall out. He kicked the sack. It split. Silver and copper fell in an expensive trickle. And youll swagger and spend it on drink and women, he said, as they watched the coins roll into every corner of the room. The thought of investment will never cross your scarred little minds-- - There was a rumble from Banjo. Even Teatime waited patiently until the huge man had assembled a sentence. The result was: I gotta piggy bank.

  And what would you do with a million dollars, Banjo? said Teatime. Another rumble. Banjos face twisted up. Buy. . . a. . . bigger piggy bank?

  Well done. The Assassin stood up. Lets go and see how our wizard is getting on, shall we? He walked out of the room without looking back. After a moment Banjo followed. The others tried not to look at one anothers faces. Then Chickenwire said, Was he saying we could take the money and go?

  Dont be bloody stupid, we wouldnt get ten yards, said Medium Dave, still clutching his face. Ugh, this hurts. I think he cut the eyelid. . . he cut the damn eyelid. . .

  Then lets just leave the stuff and go! I never joined up to ride on tigers!

  And whatll you do when he comes after you?

  Whyd he bother with the likes of us?

  Hes got time for his friends, said Medium Dave bitterly. For gods sakes, someone get me a clean rag or something. . . OK, but. . . but he cant look everywhere. Medium Dave shook his head. Hed been through AnkhMorporks very own university of the streets and had graduated with his life and an intelligence made all the keener by constant friction. You only had to look into Teatimes mismatched eyes to know one thing, which was this: that if Teatime wanted to find you he would not look everywhere. Hed look in only one place, which would be the place where you were hiding. How come your brother likes him so much? Medium Dave grimaced. Banjo had always done what he was told, simply because Medium Dave had told him. Up to now, anyway. It must have been that punch in the bar. Medium Dave didnt like to think about it. Hed always promised their mother that hed look after Banjo, 21 and Banjo had gone back like a falling tree. And when Medium Dave had risen from his seat to punch Teatimes unbalanced lights out hed suddenly found the Assassin already behind him, holding a knife. In front of everyone. It was humiliating, thats what it was And then Banjo had sat up, looking puzzled, and spat out a tooth If it wasnt for Banjo going around with him all the time we could gang up on him, said Catseye. Medium Dave looked up, one hand clamping a handkerchief to his eye. Gang up on him? he said. Yeah, its all your fault, Chickenwire went on. Oh, yeah? So it wasnt you who said, wow, ten thousand dollars, count me in? Chickenwire backed away. I didnt know there was going to be all this creepy stuff! I want to go home! Medium Dave hesitated, despite his pain and rage. This wasnt normal talk for Chickenwire, for all that he whined and grumbled. This was a strange place, no lie about that, and all that business with the teeth had been very. . . odd, but hed been out with Chickenwire when jobs had gone wrong and both the Watch and the Thieves Guild had been after them and hed been as cool as anyone. And if the Guild had been the ones to catch them theyd have nailed their ears to their ankles and thrown them in the river. In Medium Daves book, which was a simple book and largely written in mental crayon, things didnt get creepier than that. Whats up with you? he said. All of you youre acting like little kids!