The Wee Free Men

'You'll need a job, too,' said Mrs Ogg. There's no money in witchcraft. Can't do magic for yourself, see? Cast-iron rule.'

'I make good cheese,' said Tiffany.

'Cheese, eh?' said Mistress Weatherwax. 'Hmm. Yes. Cheese is good. But do you know anything about medicines? Midwifery? That's a good portable skill.'

'Well, I've helped deliver difficult lambs,' said Tiffany. 'And I saw my brother being born. They didn't bother to turn me out. It didn't look too difficult. But I think cheese is probably easier, and less noisy.'

'Cheese is good,' Mistress Weatherwax repeated, nodding. 'Cheese is alive.'

'And what do you really do?' said Tiffany.

The thin witch hesitated for a moment, and then:

'We look to... the edges,' said Mistress Weatherwax. 'There're a lot of edges, more than people know. Between life and death, this world and the next, night and day, right and wrong... an' they need watchin'. We watch 'em, we guard the sum of things. And we never ask for any reward. That's important.'

'People give us stuff, mind you. People can be very gen'rous to witches,' said Mrs Ogg, happily. 'On bakin' days in our village, sometimes I can't move for cake. There's ways and ways of not askin', if you get my meaning. People like to see a happy witch.'

'But down here people think witches are bad!' said Tiffany, and her Second Thoughts added: Remember how rarely Granny Aching ever had to buy her own tobacco?

'It's amazin' what people can get used to,' said Mrs Ogg. 'You just have to start slow.'

'And we have to hurry,' said Mistress Weatherwax. There's a man riding up here on a farm horse. Fair hair, red face—'

'It sounds like my father!'

'Well, he's making the poor thing gallop,' said Mistress Weatherwax. 'Quick, now. You want to learn the skills? When can you leave home?'

'Pardon?' said Tiffany.

'Don't the girls here go off to work as maids and things?' said Mrs Ogg.

'Oh, yes. When they're a bit older than me.'

'Well, when you're a bit older than you. Miss Tick here will come and find you,' said Mistress Weatherwax. Miss Tick nodded. 'There're elderly witches up in the mountains who'll pass on what they know in exchange for a bit of help around the cottage. This place will be watched over while you're gone, you may depend on it. In the meantime you'll get three meals a day, your own bed, use of broomstick... that's the way we do it. All right?'

'Yes,' said Tiffany, grinning happily. The wonderful moment was passing too quickly for all the questions she wanted to ask. 'Yes! But, er...'

'Yes?' said Mrs Ogg.

'I don't have to dance around with no clothes on or anything like that, do I? Only I heard rumours—'

Mistress Weatherwax rolled her eyes. Mrs Ogg grinned cheerfully. 'Well, that procedure does have something to recommend it—' she began.

'No, you don't have to!' snapped Mistress Weatherwax. 'No cottage made of sweets, no cackling and no dancing!'

'Unless you want to,' said Mrs Ogg, standing up. 'There's no harm in an occasional cackle, if the mood takes you that way. I'd teach you a good one right now, but we really ought to be going.'

'But... but how did you manage it?' said Miss Tick to Tiffany. This is all chalk! You've become a witch on chalk? How?'

'That's all you know, Perspicacia Tick,' said Mistress Weatherwax. The bones of the hills is flint. It's hard and sharp and useful. King of stones.' She picked up her broomstick, and turned back to Tiffany. 'Will you get into trouble, do you think?' she said.

'I might do,' said Tiffany.

'Do you want any help?'

'If it's my trouble, I'll get out of it,' said Tiffany. She wanted to say: Yes, yes! I'm going to need help! I don't know what's going to happen when my father gets here! The Baron's probably got really angry! But I don't want them to think I can't deal with my own problems! I ought to be able to cope!

'That's right,' said Mistress Weatherwax. Tiffany wondered if the witch could read minds.

'Minds? No,' said Mistress Weatherwax, climbing onto her broomstick. 'Faces, yes. Come here, young lady.'

Tiffany obeyed.

'The thing about witchcraft,' said Mistress Weatherwax, 'is that it's not like school at all. First you get the test, and then afterwards you spend years findin' out how you passed it. It's a bit like life in that respect.' She reached out and gently raised Tiffany's chin so that she could look into her face. 'I see you opened your eyes,' she said.

'Yes.'

'Good. Many people never do. Times ahead might be a little tricky, even so. You'll need this.'

She stretched out a hand and made a circle in the air around Tiffany's hair, then brought her hand up over the head while making little movements with her forefinger.

Tiffany raised her hands to her head. For a moment she thought there was nothing there, and then they touched... something. It was more like a sensation in the air; if you weren't expecting it to be there, your fingers passed straight through.

'Is it really there?' she said.