Carpe Jugulum

'Father's very impressed with you witches,' he said, over his shoulder. 'He says we should make you all vampires. He says you're halfway there anyway. But I'd much rather you came to see how marvellous it could be.'

'You would, would you? I'd like to be constantly craving blood?'

'You constantly crave chocolate, don't you?'

'How dare you!'

'Blood tends to be low in carbohydrates. Your body will adapt. The pounds will just drop away...'

'That's sickening!'

'You'll have complete control over yourself...'

'I'm not listening!'

'All it takes is a little prick-'

'It's not going to be yours, mister!'

'Hah! Wonderful!' said Vlad and, dragging Agnes behind him, he leapt into the Lancre Gorge.

Granny Weatherwax opened her eyes. At least, she had to assume they were open. She'd felt the lids move.

Darkness lay in front of her. It was velvet black, starless, a hole in space. But there was light behind her. She was standing with her back to the light, she could sense it, see it on her hands. It was streaming past, outlining the darkness that was the long rich deep shadow of her on the...

... black sand. it crunched under her boots as she shifted her weight.

This was a test. Everything was a test. Everything was a competition. Life put them in front of you every day. You watched yourself all the time. You had to make choices. You never got told which ones were right. Oh, some of the priests said you got given marks afterwards, but what was the point of that?

She wished her mind was working faster. She couldn't think properly. Her head felt full of fog.

This... wasn't a real place. No, that wasn't the right way of thinking about it. It wasn't a usual place. It might be more real than Lancre. Across it her shadow stretched, waiting...

She glanced up at the tall, silent figure beside her.

GOOD EVENING.

'Oh... you again.'

ANOTHER CHOICE, ESMERELDA WEATHERWAX.

'Light and dark? It's never as simple as that, you know, even for you.'

Death sighed. NOT EVEN FOR ME.

Granny tried to line up her thoughts.

Which light and which dark? She hadn't been prepared for this. This didn't feel right. This wasn't the fight she had expected. Whose light? Whose mind was this?

Silly question. She was always her.

Never lose your grip on that...

So... light behind her, darkness in front...

She'd always said witches stood between the light and the dark.

'Am I dyin'?'

YES.

'Will I die?'

YES.

Granny thought this over.

'But from your point of view, everyone is dying and everyone will die, right?'

YES.

'So you aren't actually bein' a lot of help, strictly speakin'.'

I'M SORRY, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED THE TRUTH. PERHAPS YOU WERE EXPECTING JELLY AND ICE CREAM?

'Hah...'

There was no movement in the air, no sound but her own breathing. Just the brilliant white light on one side, and the heavy darkness on the other... waiting.

Granny had listened to people who'd nearly died but had come back, possibly because of a deft thump in the right place or the dislodging of some wayward mouthful that'd gone down the wrong way. Sometimes they talked about seeing a light

That's where she ought to go, a thought told her. But... was the light the way in, or the way out?

Death snapped his fingers.

An image appeared on the sand in front of them. She saw herself, kneeling in front of the anvil. She admired the dramatic effect. She'd always had a streak of theatrics, although she'd never admit it, and she appreciated in a disembodied way the strength with which she had thrust her pain into the iron. Someone had slightly spoiled the effect by putting a kettle on one end.

Death reached down and took a handful of sand. He held it up, and let it slip between his fingers.

CHOOSE, he said. YOU ARE GOOD AT CHOOSING, I BELIEVE.

'Is there any advice you could be givin' me?' said Granny.

CHOOSE RIGHT.

Granny turned to face the sheer white brilliance, and dosed her eyes.

And stepped backwards.

The light dwindled to a tiny distant point and vanished.

The blackness was suddenly all around, closing in like quicksand. There seemed to be no way, no direction. When she moved she did not sense movement.

There was no sound but the faint trickle of sand inside her head.

And then, voices from her shadow.

'... Because of you, some died who may have lived...'

The words lashed at her, leaving livid lines across her mind.

'Some lived who surely would have died,' she said.

The dark pulled at her sleeves.

'... you killed...'

'No. I showed the way.'

'... hah! That's just words...'

'Words is important,' Granny whispered into the night.

... you took the right to judge others...'

'I took the duty. I'll own up to it.'

'... I know every evil thought you've ever had...'

'I know.'

'... the ones you'd never dare tell anyone...'

'I know.'

'... all the little secrets, never to be told...'

'I know.'

'... how often you longed to embrace the dark...'

'Yes.'

'... such strength you could have...'

'Yes.'

'... embrace the dark...'

'No.'

'... give in to me...'

'No.'

'... Lilith Weatherwax did. Alison Weatherwax did...'

'That's never been proved!'

'... give in to me...'