There was a commotion at the back of the crowd. Courtiers parted, revealing Nanny Ogg, oil-covered and hung with spider webs.

"If it's a five-and-a-half narrow fit, I'm your man," she said. "Just let me get these boots off..."

"I wasn't referring to you, old woman," said Lily coldly.

"Oh, yes you was," said Nanny. "We know how this bit goes, see. The Prince goes all round the city with the slipper, trying to find the girl whose foot fits. That's what you was plannin'. So I can save you a bit of trouble, how about it?"

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Lily's expression.

"A girl," she said, "of marriageable age."

"No problem there," said Nanny cheerfully.

The dwarf Casanunda nudged a courtier proudly in the knees.

"She's a very close personal friend of mine," he said proudly.

Lily looked at her sister.

"You're doing this. Don't think I don't know," she said.

"I ain't doing a thing," said Granny. "It's real life happening all by itself."

Nanny grabbed the slipper out of the Prince's hands and, before anyone else could move, slid it on to her foot.

Then she waggled the foot in the air.

It was a perfect fit.

"There!" she said. "See? You could have wasted the whole day."

"Especially because there must be hundreds of five-and-a-half-‘

" - narrow fit - "

" - narrow fit wearers in a city this size," Granny went on. "Unless, of course, you happened to sort of go to the right house right at the start. If you had, you know, a lucky guess?"

"But that'd be cheatin'," said Nanny.

She nudged the Prince.

"I'd just like to add," she said, "that I don't mind doin' all the waving and opening things and other royal stuff, but I draw the line at sleepin' in the same bed as sunny jim here."

"Because he doesn't sleep in a bed," said Granny.

"No, he sleeps in a pond," said Nanny. "We had a look. Just a great big indoor pond."

"Because he's a frog," said Granny.

"With flies all over the place in case he wakes up in the night and fancies a snack," said Nanny.

"I thought so!" said Magrat, pulling herself out of the grip of the guards. "He had clammy hands!"

"Lots of men have clammy hands," said Nanny. "But this one's got ‘em because he's a frog."

"I'm a prince of blood royal!" said the Prince.

"And a frog," said Granny.

"I don't mind," said Casanunda, from somewhere down below. "I enjoy open relationships. If you want to go out with a frog, that's fine by me..."

Lily looked around at the crowd. Then she snapped her fingers.

Granny Weatherwax was aware of a sudden silence.

Nanny Ogg looked up at the people on either side of her. She waved a hand in front of a guard's face.

"Coo," she said.

"You can't do that for long," said Granny. "You can't stop a thousand people for long."

Lily shrugged. "They're not important. Whoever will remember who was at the ball? They'll just remember the flight and the slipper and the happy ending."

"I've told you. You can't start it again. And he's a frog. Even you can't keep him in shape the whole day long. He turns back into his old shape at night. He's got a bedroom with a pond in it. He's a frog," said Granny flatly.

"But only inside," said Lily.

"Inside's where it counts," said Granny.

"Outside's quite important, mind," said Nanny.

"Lots of people are animals inside. Lots of animals are people inside," said Lily. "Where's the harm?"

"He's a frog."

"Especially at night," said Nanny. It had occurred to her that a husband who was a man all night and a frog all day might be almost acceptable; you wouldn't get the wage packet, but there'd be less wear and tear on the furniture. She also couldn't put out of her mind certain private speculations about the length of his tongue.

"And you killed the Baron," said Magrat.

"You think he was a particularly nice man?" said Lily. "Besides, he didn't show me any respect. If you've got no respect, you've got nothing."

Nanny and Magrat found themselves looking at Granny.

"He's a frog."

"I found him in the swamp," said Lily. "I could tell he was pretty bright. I needed someone... amenable to persuasion. Shouldn't frogs have a chance? He'll be no worse a husband than many. Just one kiss from a princess seals the spell."

"A lot of men are animals," said Magrat, who'd picked up the idea from somewhere.

"Yes. But he's a frog," said Granny.

"Look at it my way," said Lily. "You see this country? It's all swamps and fogs. There's no direction. But I can make this a great city. Not a sprawling place like Ankh-Morpork, but a place that works."

"The girl doesn't want to marry a frog."

"What will that matter in a hundred years' time?"

"It matters now."

Lily threw up her hands. "What do you want, then? It's your choice. There's me... or there's that woman in the swamp. Light or dark. Fog or sunshine. Dark chaos or happy endings."

"He's a frog, and you killed the old Baron," said Granny.

"You'd have done the same," said Lily.

"No," said Granny. "I'd have thought the same, but I wouldn't have done it."

"What difference does that make, deep down?"

"You mean you don't know?" said Nanny Ogg.

Lily laughed.

"Look at the three of you," she said. "Bursting with inefficient good intentions. The maiden, the mother and the crone."

"Who are you calling a maiden?" said Nanny Ogg.

"Who are you calling a mother?" said Magrat.

Granny Weatherwax glowered briefly like the person who has discovered that there is only one straw left and everyone else has drawn a long one.

"Now, what shall I do with you?" said Lily. "I really am against killing people unless it's necessary, but I can't have you running around acting stupidly..."

She looked at her fingernails.

"So I think I shall have you put away somewhere until this has run its course. And then... can you guess what I'm going to do next?

"I'm going to expect you to escape. Because, after all, I am the good one."

Ella walked cautiously through the moonlit swamp, following the strutting shape of Legba. She was aware of movement in the water, but nothing emerged - bad news like Legba gets around, even among alligators.

An orange light appeared irrthe distance. It turned out to be Mrs Gogol's shack, or boat, or whatever it was. In the swamp, the difference between the water and the land was practically a matter of choice.

"Hallo? Is there anyone there?"

"Come along in, child. Take a seat. Rest up a little."

Ella stepped cautiously on to the rocking veranda. Mrs Gogol was sitting in her chair, a white-clad raggedy doll in her lap.

"Magrat said - "

"I know all about it. Come to Erzulie."

"Who are you?"

"I am your - friend, girl."

Ella moved so as to be ready to run.

"You're not a godmother of any kind, are you?"

"No. No gods. Just a friend. Did anyone follow you?"

"I... don't think so."

"It's no matter if they did, girl. No matter if they did. Maybe we ought to move out into the river for a spell, even so. We'll be a lot safer with water all round."

The shack lurched.

"You better sit down. The feets make it shaky until we get into deep water."

Ella risked a look, nevertheless.

Airs Gogol's hut travelled on four large duck feet, which were now rising out of the swamp. They splashed their way through the shallows and, gently, sculled out into the river.

Greebo woke up and stretched.

And the wrong sort of arms and legs!

Mrs Pleasant, who had been sitting watching him, put down her glass.

"What do you want to do now, Mr Cat?" she said.

Greebo padded over to the door into the outside world and scratched at it.

"Waant to go owwwt, Miss-uss Pleas-unt," he said.