Hogfather Part 19

"Not even indigo-colored ones which are sort of stretched and keep flas.h.i.+ng on and off?"

"Very unlikely."

"Thank goodness for that." He swayed back and forth. "Excuse me, I think I'm about to throw up my breakfast."

"It's the middle of the evening!"

"Is it? In that case, I think I'm about to throw up my dinner."

He folded up gently in the snow behind the tree.

"He's a long streak of widdle, isn't he?" said a voice from a branch. It was the raven. "Got a neck with a knee in it."

The oh G.o.d reappeared after a noisy interlude.

"I know know I must eat," he mumbled. "It's just that the only time I remember seeing my food it's always going the other way..." I must eat," he mumbled. "It's just that the only time I remember seeing my food it's always going the other way..."

"What were you doing in there?" said Susan.

"Ouch! Search me," said the oh G.o.d. "It's only a mercy I wasn't holding a traffic sign and wearing a-" he winced and paused "-having some kind of women's underwear about my person." He sighed. "Someone somewhere has a lot of fun," he said wistfully. "I wish it was me."

"Get a drink inside you, that's my advice," said the raven. "Have a hair of the dog that bit someone else."

"But why there there?" Susan insisted.

The oh G.o.d stopped trying to glare at the raven. "I don't know, where was there there exactly?" exactly?"

Susan looked back at where the castle had been. It was entirely gone.

"There was a very important building there a moment ago," she said.

The oh G.o.d nodded carefully.

"I often see things that weren't there a moment ago," he said. "And they often aren't there a moment later. Which is a blessing in most cases, let me tell you. So I don't usually take a lot of notice."

He folded up and landed in the snow again.

There's just snow now, Susan thought. Nothing but snow and the wind. There's not even a ruin.

The certainty stole over her again that the Hogfather's castle wasn't simply simply not there any more. No...it had never been there. There was no ruin, no trace. not there any more. No...it had never been there. There was no ruin, no trace.

It had been an odd enough place. It was where the Hogfather lived, according to the legends. Which was odd, when you thought about it. It didn't didn't look like the kind of place a cheery old toy maker would live in. look like the kind of place a cheery old toy maker would live in.

The wind soughed in the trees behind them. Snow slid off branches. Somewhere in the dark there was a flurry of hooves.

A spidery little figure leapt off a snowdrift and landed on the oh G.o.d's head. It turned a beady eye up toward Susan.

"All right by you, is it?" said the imp, producing its huge hammer. "Some of us have a job to do, you know, even if we are of a metaphorical, nay, folkloric persuasion."

"Oh, go away away."

"If you think I'm I'm bad, wait until you see the little pink elephants," said the imp. bad, wait until you see the little pink elephants," said the imp.

"I don't believe you."

"They come out of his ears and fly around his head making tweeting noises."

"Ah," said the raven, sagely. "That sounds more like robins. I wouldn't put anything past them them."

The oh G.o.d grunted.

Susan suddenly felt that she didn't want to leave him. He was human. Well, human shaped. Well, at least he had two arms and legs. He'd freeze to death here. Of course, G.o.ds, or even oh G.o.ds, probably couldn't, but humans didn't think like that. You couldn't just leave leave someone. She prided herself on this bit of normal thinking. someone. She prided herself on this bit of normal thinking.

Besides, he might have some answers, if she could make him stay awake enough to understand the questions.

From the edge of the frozen forest, animal eyes watched them go.

Mr. Crumley sat on the damp stairs and sobbed. He couldn't get any nearer to the toy department. Every time he tried he got lifted off his feet by the mob and dumped at the edge of the crowd by the current of people.

Someone said, "Top of the evenin', squire," and he looked up blearily at the small yet irregularly formed figure that had addressed him thusly.

"Are you one of the pixies?" he said, after mentally exhausting all the other possibilities.

"No, sir. I am not in fact a pixie, sir, I am in fact Corporal n.o.bbs of the Watch. And this is Constable Visit, sir." The creature looked at a piece of paper in its paw. "You Mr. Crummy?"

"Crumley!"

"Yeah, right. You sent a runner to the Watch House and we have hereby responded with commendable speed, sir," said Corporal n.o.bbs. "Despite it being Hogswatchnight and there being a lot of strange things happening and most importantly it being the occasion of our Hogswatchly p.i.s.s-up, sir. But this is all right because Washpot, that's Constable Visit here, he doesn't drink, sir, it being against his religion, and although I do do drink, sir, I volunteered to come because it is my civic duty, sir." n.o.bby tore off a salute, or what he liked to believe was a salute. He did drink, sir, I volunteered to come because it is my civic duty, sir." n.o.bby tore off a salute, or what he liked to believe was a salute. He did not not add, "And turning out for a rich b.u.g.g.e.r such as your good self is bound to put the officer concerned in the way of a seasonal bottle or two or some other tangible evidence of grat.i.tude," because his entire stance said it for him. Even n.o.bby's ears could look suggestive. add, "And turning out for a rich b.u.g.g.e.r such as your good self is bound to put the officer concerned in the way of a seasonal bottle or two or some other tangible evidence of grat.i.tude," because his entire stance said it for him. Even n.o.bby's ears could look suggestive.

Unfortunately, Mr. Crumley wasn't in the right receptive frame of mind. He stood up and waved a shaking finger toward the top of the stairs.

"I want you to go up there," he said, "and arrest him!"

"Arrest who, sir?" said Corporal n.o.bbs.

"The Hogfather!"

"What for, sir?"

"Because he's sitting up there as bold as bra.s.s in his Grotto, giving away presents!"

Corporal n.o.bbs thought about this.

"You haven't been having a festive drink, have you, sir?" he said hopefully.

"I do not drink!"

"Very wise, sir," said Constable Visit. "Alcohol is the tarnish of the soul. Ossory, Book Two, Verse Twenty-four."

"Not quite up to speed here, sir," said Corporal n.o.bbs, looking perplexed. "I thought the Hogfather is s'posed s'posed to give away stuff, isn't he?" to give away stuff, isn't he?"

This time Mr. Crumley had to stop and think. Up until now he hadn't quite sorted things out in his head, other than recognizing their essential wrongness.

"This one is an Impostor!" he declared. "Yes, that's right! He smashed his way into here!"

"Y'know, I always thought that," said n.o.bby. "I thought, every year, the Hogfather spends a fortnight sitting in a wooden grotto in a shop in Ankh-Morpork? At his busy time, too? Hah! Not likely! Probably just some old man in a beard, I thought."

"I meant...he's not the Hogfather we usually have," said Crumley, struggling for firmer ground. "He just barged in here!"

"Oh, a different different impostor? Not the real impostor at all?" impostor? Not the real impostor at all?"

"Well...yes...no..."

"And started giving stuff away?" said Corporal n.o.bbs.

"That's what I said! That's got to be a Crime, hasn't it?"

Corporal n.o.bbs rubbed his nose.

"Well, nearly nearly," he conceded, not wis.h.i.+ng to totally relinquish the chance of any festive remuneration. Realization dawned. "He's giving away your your stuff, sir?" stuff, sir?"

"No! No, he brought it in with him!"

"Ah? Giving away your your stuff, now, if he was doing that, yes, I could see the problem. That's a sure sign of crime, stuff going missing. Stuff turning up, weerlll, that's a tricky one. Unless it's stuff like arms and legs, o' course. We'd be on safer ground if he was nicking stuff, sir, to tell you the truth." stuff, now, if he was doing that, yes, I could see the problem. That's a sure sign of crime, stuff going missing. Stuff turning up, weerlll, that's a tricky one. Unless it's stuff like arms and legs, o' course. We'd be on safer ground if he was nicking stuff, sir, to tell you the truth."

"This is a shop shop," said Mr. Crumley, finally getting to the root of the problem. "We do not not give Merchandise give Merchandise away away. How can we expect people to buy things if some Person is giving giving them away? Now please go and get him out of here." them away? Now please go and get him out of here."

"Arrest the Hogfather, style of thing?"

"Yes!"

"On Hogswatchnight?"

"Yes!"

"In your shop?"

"Yes!"

"In front of all those kiddies?"

"Y-" Mr. Crumley hesitated. To his horror, he realized that Corporal n.o.bbs, against all expectation, had a point. "You think that will look bad?" he said.

"Hard to see how it could look good, sir."

"Could you not do it surrept.i.tiously?" he said.

"Ah, well, surrept.i.tion, yes, we could give that a try," said Corporal n.o.bbs. The sentence hung in the air with its hand out.

"You won't find me ungrateful," said Mr. Crumley, at last.

"Just you leave it to us," said Corporal n.o.bbs, magnanimous in victory. "You just nip down to your office and treat yourself to a nice cup of tea and we'll sort this out in no time. You'll be ever so grateful."

Crumley gave him a look of a man in the grip of serious doubt, but staggered away nonetheless. Corporal n.o.bbs rubbed his hands together.

"You don't have Hogswatch back where you come from, do you, Washpot?" he said, as they climbed the stairs to the first floor. "Look at this carpet, you'd think a pig'd p.i.s.sed on it..."

"We call it the Fast of St. Ossory," said Visit, who was from Omnia. "But it is not an occasion for superst.i.tion and cra.s.s commercialism. We simply get together in family groups for a prayer meeting and a fast."

"What, turkey and chicken and that?"

"A fast fast, Corporal n.o.bbs. We don't eat anything anything."

"Oh, right. Well, each to his own, I s'pose. And at least you don't have to get up early in the morning and find that the nothing you've got is too big to fit in the oven. No presents neither?"

They stood aside hurriedly as two children scuttled down the stairs carrying a large toy boat between them.

"It is sometimes appropriate to exchange new religious pamphlets, and of course there are usually copies of the Book of Ossory Book of Ossory for the children," said Constable Visit. "Sometimes with for the children," said Constable Visit. "Sometimes with ill.u.s.trations ill.u.s.trations," he added, in the guarded way of a man hinting at licentious pleasures.

A small girl went past carrying a teddy bear larger than herself. It was pink.

"They always gives me me bath salts," complained n.o.bby. "And bath soap and bubble bath and herbal bath lumps and tons of bath stuff and I can't think why, 'cos it's not as if I hardly ever bath salts," complained n.o.bby. "And bath soap and bubble bath and herbal bath lumps and tons of bath stuff and I can't think why, 'cos it's not as if I hardly ever has has a bath. You'd think they'd take the hint, wouldn't you?" a bath. You'd think they'd take the hint, wouldn't you?"

"Abominable, I call it," said Constable Visit.

The first floor was a mob.

"Huh, look at them. Mr. Hogfather never brought me me anything when I was a kid," said Corporal n.o.bbs, eyeing the children gloomily. "I used to hang up my stocking every Hogswatch, regular. All that ever happened was my dad was sick in it once." He removed his helmet. anything when I was a kid," said Corporal n.o.bbs, eyeing the children gloomily. "I used to hang up my stocking every Hogswatch, regular. All that ever happened was my dad was sick in it once." He removed his helmet.

n.o.bby was not by any measure a hero, but there was the sudden gleam in his eye of someone who'd seen altogether too many empty stockings plus one rather full and dripping one. A scab had been knocked off some wound in the corrugated little organ of his soul.

"I'm going in," he said.

In between the University's Great Hall and its main door is a rather smaller circular hall or vestibule known as Archchancellor Bowell's Remembrance, although no one now knows why, or why an extant bequest pays for one small currant bun and one copper penny to be placed on a high stone shelf on one wall every second Wednesday.* Ridcully stood in the middle of the floor, looking upward. Ridcully stood in the middle of the floor, looking upward.

"Tell me, Senior Wrangler, we never invited any women women to the Hogswatchnight Feast, did we?" to the Hogswatchnight Feast, did we?"

"Of course not, Archchancellor," said the Senior Wrangler. He looked up in the dust-covered rafters, wondering what had caught Ridcully's eye. "Good heavens, no. They'd spoil everything. I've always said so."

"And all the maids have got the evening off until midnight?"