Pratchett_Terry_ _Equal

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

it was talking about was exactly how things should be.
The breeze shook the tree gently. Esk sat on a branch idly swinging her legs.
She thought about wizards. They didn t often come to Bad Ass, but there were
a fair number of stories about them. They were wise, she recalled, and usually
very old and they did powerful, complex and mysterious magics and almost all of
them had beards. They were also, without exception, men.
She was on firmer ground with witches, because she d trailed off with Granny
to visit a couple of villages witches further along the hills, and anyway witches
figured largely in Ramtop folklore. Witches were cunning, she recalled, and usu-
ally very old, or at least they tried to look old, and they did slightly suspicious,
homely and organic magics and some of them had beards. They were also, without
exception, women.
There was some fundamental problem in all that which she couldn t quite
resolve. Why wouldn t....
Cern and Gulta hurtled down the path and came to a pushing, shoving halt
under the tree. They peered up at their sister with a mixture of fascination and
scorn. Witches and wizards were objects of awe, but sisters weren t. Somehow,
knowing your own sister was learning to be a witch sort of devalued the whole
profession.
You can t really do spells, said Cern. Can you?
Course you can t, said Gulta. What s this stick?
49
Esk had left the staff leaning against the tree. Cern prodded it cautiously.
I don t want you to touch it, said Esk hurriedly. Please. It s mine.
Cern normally had all the sensitivity of a ballbearing, but his hand stopped in
mid-prod, much to his surprise.
I didn t want to anyway, he muttered to hide his confusion. It s only an old
stick.
Is it true you can do spells? asked Gulta. We heard Granny say you could.
We listened at the door, added Cern.
You said I couldn t, said Esk, airily.
Well, can you or can t you? said Gulta, his face reddening.
Perhaps.
You can t!
Esk looked down at his face. She loved her brothers, when she reminded
herself to, in a dutiful sort of way, although she generally remembered them as a
collection of loud noises in trousers. But there was something awfully pig-like and
unpleasant about the way Gulta was staring up at her, as though she had personally
insulted him.
She felt her body start to tingle, and the world suddenly seemed very sharp
and clear.
I can, she said.
Gulta looked from her to the staff, and his eyes narrowed. He kicked it vi-
ciously.
Old stick!
He looked, she thought, exactly like a small angry pig.
Cern s screams brought Granny and his parents first to the back door and then
running down the cinder path.
Esk was perched in the fork of the apple tree, an expression of dreamy contem-
plation on her face. Cern was hiding behind the tree, his face a mere rim around a
red, tonsil-vibrating bawl.
Gulta was sitting rather bewildered in a pile of clothing that no longer fitted
him, wrinkling his snout.
Granny strode up to the tree until her hooked nose was level with Esk s.
Turning people into pigs is not allowed, she hissed. Even brothers.
I didn t do it, it just happened. Anyway, you must admit it s a better shape
for him, said Esk evenly.
What s going on? said Smith. Where s Gulta? What s this pig doing here?
This pig , said Granny Weatherwax, is your son.
There was a sigh from Esk s mother as she collapsed gently backwards, but
Smith was slightly less unprepared. He looked sharply from Gulta, who had man-
aged to untangle himself from his clothing and was now rooting enthusiastically
among the early windfalls, to his only daughter.
50
She did this?
Yes. Or it was done through her, said Granny, looking suspiciously at the
staff.
Oh. Smith looked at his fifth son. He had to admit that the shape suited him.
He reached out without looking and fetched the screaming Cern a thump on the
back of his head.
Can you turn him back again? he asked. Granny spun around and glared the
question at Esk, who shrugged.
He didn t believe I could do magic, she said calmly.
Yes, well, I think you ve made the point, said Granny. And now you will
turn him back, madam. This instant. Do you hear?
Don t want to. He was rude.
I see.
Esk gazed down defiantly. Granny glared up sternly. Their wills clanged like
cymbals and the air between them thickened. But Granny had spent a lifetime
bending recalcitrant creatures to her bidding and, while Esk was a surprisingly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Pokrewne