“That's all right, then. That's hours away.”
“I mean they're over there!”
Nanny squinted at the stars. Something ragged moved across the night.
“Oh, blast.”
“Can't you outfly them?”
“Nope. They can put a girdle round the world in forty minutes.”
“Why? It's not that fat,” said Casanunda, who was feeling in the mood for a handful of dried frog pills.
“I mean they're fast. We can't outrun 'em, even if we lost some weight.”
“I think I'm losing a tiny bit,” said Casanunda, as the broomstick dived toward the trees.
Leaves scraped on Nanny Ogg's boots. Moonlight glinted briefly off ash-blond hair, away to her left. “Bugger, bugger, bugger.”
Three elves were keeping station with the broomstick. That was the thing about elves. They chased you till you dropped, until your blood was curdling with dread; if a dwarf wanted you dead, on the other hand, they'd simply cut you in half with an axe first chance they got. But that was because dwarfs were a lot nicer than elves.
“They're gaming on us!” said Casanunda.
“Got the crowbar?”
“Yes!”
“Right. . .”
The broomstick zigzagged over the silent forest. One of the elves drew its sword and swung down. Knock them down into the trees, leave them alive as long as possible . . .
The broomstick went into reverse. Nanny Ogg's head and legs went forward, so that partly she was sitting on her hands but mainly she was sitting on nothing. The elf swooped toward her, laughing-
Casanunda stuck out the crowbar.
There was a sound very like doioinng.
The broomstick jerked ahead again, dumping Nanny Ogg in Casanunda's lap.
“Sorry.”
“Don't mention it. In fact, do it again if you like.”
“Get him, did you?”
“Took his breath away.”
“Good. Where're the others?”
“Can't see them.” Casanunda grinned madly. “We showed them, eh?”
Something went zip and stuck into Nanny Ogg's hat. “They know we've got iron,” she said. “They won't come close again. They don't need to,” she added bitterly.
The broomstick swerved around a tree and ploughed through some bracken. Then it swung out on to an overgrown path.
“They aren't following us anymore,” said Casanunda, after a while. “We've frightened them off, yes?”
“Not us. They're nervy of going close to the Long Man. It's not their turf. Huh, look at the state of this path. There's trees growing in it now. When I was a girl, you wouldn't find a blade of grass growing on the path.” She smiled at a distant memory. “Very popular place on a summer night, the Long Man was.”