“I thought someone said we just had to walk up hill,” said Ridcully.
“Shut up.”
"I remember once when we were in these woods you let
“me-”
“Shut up.”
Granny Weatherwax sat down on a stump.
“We're being mazed,” she said. “Someone's playing tricks on us.”
“I remember a story once,” said Ridcully, “where these two children were lost in the woods and a lot of birds came and covered them with leaves.” Hope showed in his voice like a toe peeking out from under a crinoline.
“Yes, that's just the sort of bloody stupid thing a bird would think of,” said Granny. She rubbed her head.
“She's doing it,” she said. “It's an elvish trick. Leading travellers astray. She's mucking up my head. My actual head. Oh, she's good. Making us go where she wants. Making us go round in circles. Doing it to me.”
“Maybe you've got your mind on other things,” said Ridcully, not quite giving up hope.
“Course I've got my mind on other things, with you falling over all the time and gabbling a lot of nonsense,” said Granny. “If Mr. Cleverdick Wizard hadn't wanted to dredge up things that never existed in the first place I wouldn't be here, I'd be in the centre of things, knowing what's going on.” She clenched her fists.
“Well, you don't have to be,” said Ridcully. “It's a fine night. We could sit here and-”
“You're falling for it too,” said Granny. “All that dreamy-weamy, eyes-across-a-crowded-room stuff. Can't imagine how you keep your job as head wizard.”
“Mainly by checking my bed carefully and makin' sure someone else has already had a slice of whatever it is I'm eating,” said Ridcully, with disarming honesty. “There's not much to it, really. Mainly it's signin' things and having a good shout-”
Ridcully gave up.
“Anyway, you looked pretty surprised when you saw me,” he said. “Your face went white.”
“Anyone'd go white, seeing a full-grown man standing there looking like a sheep about to choke,” said Granny.
“You really don't let up, do you?” said Ridcully. “Amazing. You don't give an inch.”
Another leaf drifted past.
Ridcully didn't move his head.
“You know,” he said, his voice staying quite level, “either autumn comes really early in these parts, or the birds here are the ones out of that story I mentioned, or someone's in the tree above us.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes, because I've been paying attention while you were dodging the traffic in Memory Lane,” said Granny. “There's at least five of 'em, and they're right above us. How's those magic fingers of yours?”
“I could probably manage a fireball.”
“Wouldn't work. Can you carry us out of here?”
“Not both of us.”
“Just you?”
“Probably, but I'm not going to leave you.”