Perdita glanced toward the tavern. Granny Weatherwax had dozed off.
“Quietly confident,” said Nanny Ogg, crossing her fingers behind her back.
“Um, what happens to the loser?” said Perdita.
“Nothing, really,” said Nanny Ogg. “Generally she leaves the place. You can't be a witch if people've seen you beat.”
“Diamanda says she doesn't want to hurt the old lady too much,” said Perdita. “Just teach her a lesson.”
“That's nice. Esme's a quick learner.”
“Um. I wish this wasn't happening, Mrs. Ogg.”
“That's nice.”
“Diamanda says Mistress Weatherwax has got a very impressive stare, Mrs. Ogg.”
“That's nice.”
“So the test is . . . just staring, Mrs. Ogg.”
Nanny put her pipe in her mouth.
“You mean the old first-one-to-blink-or-look-away challenge?”
“Um, yes.”
“Right.” Nanny thought about it, and shrugged. “Right. But we'd better do a magic circle first. Don't want anyone else getting hurt, do we?”
“Do you mean using Skorhian Runes or the Triple Invocation octogram?” said Perdita.
Nanny Ogg put her head on one side.
“Never heard of them things, dear,” she said. “I always does a magic circle like this . . .”
She sidled crabwise away from the fat girl, dragging one toe in the dust. She edged around in a rough circle about fifteen feet across, still dragging her boot, until she backed into Perdita.
“Sorry. There. Done it.”
“That's a magic circle?”
“Right. People can come to harm else. All kinds of magic zipping around the place when witches fight.”
“But you didn't chant or anything.”
“No?”
“There has to be a chant, doesn't there?”
“Dunno. Never done one.”
“Oh.”
“I could sing you a comic song if you likes,” said Nanny helpfully.
“Um, no. Um.” Perdita had never heard Nanny sing, but news gets around.
“I like your black lace hanky,” said Nanny, not a bit abashed. “Very good for not showing the bogies.”