The wowhawk fluttered its wings. Oats stared into the damp, dark mist. Suddenly he was angry.
'And that's what you think religion is, is it?' he said, trying to keep his temper.
'I gen'rally don't think about it at all,' said the voice behind him.
It sounded fainter. He felt Granny clutch his arm to steady herself...
'Are you all right?' he said.
'I wish this creature would go faster... I ain't entirely myself.'
'We could stop for a rest.'
'No! Not far now! Oh, I've been so stupid...'
The thunder grumbled. He felt her grip lessen, and heard her hit the ground.
Oats leapt down. Granny Weatherwax was lying awkwardly on the moss, her eyes closed. He took her wrist. There was a pulse there, but it was horribly weak. She felt icy cold.
When he patted her face she opened her eyes.
'If you raise the subject of religion at this point,' she wheezed, 'I'll give you such a hidin'...' Her eyes shut again.
Oats sat down to get his breath back. Icy cold... yes, there was something cold about all of her, as though she always pushed heat away. Any kind of warmth.
He heard the sound of the horse again, and the faint jingle of a harness. It stopped a little way away.
'Hello?' said Oats, standing up. He strained to see the rider in the darkness, but there was just a dim shape further along the track.
'Are you following us? Hello?'
He took a few steps and made out the horse, head bowed against the rain. The rider was just a darker shadow in the night. ;And your eyesight is prob'ly not as good as mine owin' to too much readin',' said Granny.
'Blind as a bat, that's right.'
'All right.'
And so, at cross purposes and lurching occasionally, they reached the stables.
The mule shook its head at Granny Weatherwax when they arrived at its loose box. It knew trouble when it saw her.
'It's a bit cantankerous,' said Oats.
'Is it?' said Granny. 'Then we shall see what we can do.'
She walked unsteadily over to the creature and pulled one of its ears down to the level of her mouth. She whispered something. The mule blinked.
'That's sorted out, then,' she said. 'Help me up.'
'Just let me put the bridle on-'
'Young man, I might be temp'ry not at my best, but when I need a bridle on any creature they can put me to bed with a shovel. Give me a hand up, and kindly avert your face whilst so doing.'
Oats gave up and made a stirrup of his hands to help her into the saddle.
'Why don't I come with you?'
'There's only one mule. Anyway, you'd be a hindrance. I'd be worrying about you all the time.'