"You just have to turn the handle there," she said.

Greebo stared at the door handle like someone trying to come to terms with a piece of very advanced technology, and then gave her a pleading look.

She opened the door for him, stood aside as he slunk out, and then shut it, locked it and leaned against it.

"Ember's bound to be safe with Mrs Gogol," said Magrat.

"Hah!" said Granny.

"I quite liked her," said Nanny Ogg.

"I don't trust anyone who drinks rum and smokes a pipe," said Granny.

"Nanny Ogg smokes a pipe and drinks anything," Magrat pointed out.

"Yes, but that's because she's a disgustin' old baggage," said Granny, without looking up.

Nanny Ogg took her pipe out of her mouth.

"That's right," she said amiably. "You ain't nothing if you don't maintain an image."

Granny looked up from the lock.

"Can't shift it," she said. "It's octiron, too. Can't magic it open."

"It's daft, locking us up," said Nanny. "I'd have had us killed."

"That's because you're basically good," said Magrat. "The good are innocent and create justice. The bad are guilty, which is why they invent mercy."

"No, I know why she's done this," said Granny, darkly. "It's so's we'll know we've lost."

"But she said we'd escape," said Magrat. "I don't understand. She must know the good ones always win in the end!"

"Only in stories," said Granny, examining the door hinges. "And she thinks she's in charge of the stories. She bends them round herself. She thinks she's the good one."

"Mind you," said Magrat, "I don't like swamps. If it wasn't for the frog and everything, I'd see Lily's point - "

"Then you're nothing but a daft godmother," snapped Granny, still fiddling with the lock. "You can't go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it's just a cage. Besides, you don't build a better world by choppin' heads off and giving decent girls away to frogs."

"But progress - " Magrat began.

"Don't you talk to me about progress. Progress just means bad things happen faster. Anyone got another hatpin? This one's useless."

Nanny, who had Greebo's ability to make herself instantly at home wherever she happened to be, sat down in the corner of the cell.

"I heard this story once," she said, "where this bloke got locked up for years and years and he learned amazin' stuff about the universe and everythin' from another prisoner who was incredibly clever, and then he escaped and got his revenge."

"What incredibly clever stuff do you know about the universe, Gytha Ogg?" said Granny.

"Bugger all," said Nanny cheerfully.

"Then we'd better bloody well escape right now."

Nanny pulled a scrap of pasteboard out of her hat, found a scrap of pencil up there too, licked the end and thought for a while. Then she wrote: Dear Jason unt so witer (as they say in foreign parts),

Well here's a thing yore ole Mum doin Time in prison again, Im a old lag, youll have to send me a cake with a phial in it and I shall have little arrows on my close just my joke. This is a Sketch of the dunjon. Im putting a X where we are, which is Inside. Magrat is shown wering a posh dress, she has been acting like a Courgette. Also inc. Esme getting fed up becaus she can't get the lock to work but I expect it will all be OK because the good ones win in the end and that's US. And all because some girl don't want to marry a Prince who is a Duck who is really a Frog and I cant say I blame her, you don't want descendants who have got Jenes and start off living in a jamjar and then hop about and get squashed...

She was interrupted by the sound of a mandolin being played quite well, right on the other side of the wall, and a small but determined voice raised in song.

" — si consuenti d'amoure, ventre dimo tondreturo-ooo - "

"How I hunger my love for the dining-room of your warm maceration," said Nanny, without looking up.

" - della della t'ozentro, audri t'dren vontarieeeeee - "

"The shop, the shop, I have a lozenge, the sky is pink," said Nanny.

Granny and Magrat looked at one another.

" - guarunto del tart, bella pore di larientos - "

"Rejoice, candlemaker, you have a great big - "

"I don't believe any of this," said Granny. "You're making it up."

"Word for word translation," said Nanny. "I can speak foreign like a native, you know that."

"Mrs Ogg? Is that you, my love?"

They all looked up towards the barred window. There was a small face peering in.

"Casanunda?" said Nanny.

"That's me, Mrs Ogg."

"My love," muttered Granny.

"How did you get up to the window?" said Nanny, ignoring this.

"I always know where I can get my hands on a step-ladder, Mrs Ogg."

"I suppose you don't know where you can get your hands on a key?"

"Wouldn't do any good. There's too many guards outside your door, Mrs Ogg. Even for a famous swordsman like me. Her ladyship gave strict orders. No-one's to listen to you or look at you, even."

"How come you're in the palace guard, Casanunda?"

"Soldier of fortune takes whatever jobs are going, Mrs Ogg," said Casanunda earnestly.

"But all the rest of ‘em are six foot tall and you're - of the shorter persuasion."

"I lied about my height, Mrs Ogg. I'm a world-famous liar."

"Is that true?"

"No."

"What about you being the world's greatest lover?"

There was silence for a while.

"Well, maybe I'm only No. 2," said Casanunda. "But I try harder."

"Can't you go and find us a file or something, Mr Casanunda?" said Magrat.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss."

The face disappeared.

"Maybe we could get people to visit us and then we could escape in their clothes?" said Nanny Ogg.

"Now I've gone and stuck the pin in my finger," muttered Granny Weatherwax.

"Or maybe we could get Magrat to seduce one of the guards," said Nanny.

"Why don't you?" said Magrat, as nastily as she could manage.

"All right. I'm game."

"Shut up, the pair of you," said Granny. "I'm trying to think - "

There was another sound at the window.

It was Legba.

The black cockerel peered in between the bars for a moment, and then fluttered away.

"Gives me the creeps, that one," said Nanny. "Can't look at him without thinking wistfully of sage-and-onion and mashed potatoes."

Her crinkled face crinkled further.

"Greebo!" she said. "Where'd we leave him?"

"Oh, he's only a cat," said Granny Weatherwax. "Cats know how to look after themselves."

"He's really just a big softie - " Nanny began, before someone started pulling down the wall.

A hole appeared. A grey hand appeared and grasped another stone. There was a strong smell of river mud.

Rock crumbled under heavy fingers.

"Ladies?" said a resonant voice.

"Well, Mister Saturday," said Nanny, "as I live and breathe - saving your presence, o'course."

Saturday grunted something and walked away.

There was a hammering on the door and someone started fumbling with keys.

"We don't want to hang around here," said Granny. "Come on."

They helped one another out through the hole.

Saturday was on the other side of a small courtyard, striding towards the sound of the ball.

And there was something behind him, trailing out like the tail of a comet.

"What's that?"

"Mrs Gogol's doing," said Granny Weatherwax grimly.

Behind Saturday, widening as it snaked through the palace grounds to the gate, was a stream of deeper darkness in the air. At first sight it seemed to contain shapes, but closer inspection indicated that they weren't shapes at all but a mere suggestion of shapes, forming and reforming. Eyes gleamed momentarily in the swirl. There was the cluttering of crickets and the whine of mosquitoes, the smell of moss and the stink of river mud.