The bridge creaked.
'People seldom are,' said Nanny. 'Are you getting anywhere, dear? Only I can't lift you up, you see. And my arms are going numb, too.'
'I can't reach the pillar!'
'Then let go,' said Magrat, from somewhere behind Nanny.
'Magrat!' snapped Nanny.
'Well, perhaps it is only a little stream to Perdita. Gnarly ground can be two things at the same time, can't it? So if that's how she sees it... well, can't you let her get on with it? Let her sort it out. Can't you let her take over?'
'She only does that when I'm really under stress! Shut up!'
'I only-'
'Not you, her! Oh, no-'
Her left hand, white and almost numb, pulled itself off the stone and out of Nanny's grip.
'Don't let her do this to us!' Agnes shrieked. 'I'll fall hundreds of feet on to sharp rocks!'
'Yes, but since you're going to do that anyway, anything's worth a try, isn't it?' said Nanny. 'I should shut your eyes, if I was you-'
The right hand came loose.
Agnes shut her eyes. She fell.
Perdita opened her eyes. She was standing in the stream.
'Damn!' And Agnes would never say 'damn', which was why Perdita did so at every suitable occasion.
She reached up to the slab just above her, got a grip, and hauled herself up. Then, catching sight of Nanny Ogg's expression, she jerked her hands around into a new position and kicked her legs up.
That stupid Agnes never realizes how strong she is, Perdita thought. There's all these muscles she's afraid of using...
She pushed gently until her toes pointed at the sky and she was doing a handstand on the edge. The effect, she felt, was spoilt by her skirt falling over her eyes.
'You've still got that tear in yer knickers,' said Nanny sharply.
Perdita flicked herself on to her feet.
Magrat had her eyes tight shut. 'She didn't do a handstand on the edge, did she?'
'She did,' said Nanny. 'Now then, A- Perdita, stop that showing off, we've wasted too much time. Let Agnes have the body back, you know it's hers really.'
Perdita did a cartwheel. 'This body's wasted on her,' she said. 'And you should see the stuff she eats! Do you know she's still got two shelves full of soft toys? And dolls? And she wonders why she can't get along with boys!'
'Nothing like being stared at by a teddybear to put a young man off his stroke,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Remember old Mrs Sleeves, Magrat? Used to need two of us when she had one of her nasty turns.'
'What's that got to do with toys?' said Perdita suspiciously.
'And what's it- Oh, yes,' said Magrat.
'Now, I recall that old bellringer down in Ohulan,' said Nanny, leading the way. 'He had no fewer than seven personalities in his head. Three of 'em were women and four of 'em were men. Poor old chap. He said he was always the odd one out. He said they let him get on with all the work and the breathin' and eatin' and they had all the fun. Remember? He said it was hellish when he had a drink and they all started fightin' for a tastebud. Sometimes he couldn't hear himself think in his own head, he said- Now! Now! Now!'
Agnes opened her eyes. Her jaw hurt.
Nanny Ogg was peering at her closely, while rubbing some feeling back into her wrist. From a couple of inches away her face looked like a friendly pile of elderly laundry.