Lancre up to the causeway, Saturday morning
She was running to run, to keep the young man just far enough behind her to keep chasing her, not headed anywhere specific. It wasn't that she'd planned to end up this far ahead of him. She certainly hadn't set out with a destination of the stones in mind. It was simply where she ended up.
And when she ended up there, she stopped running, adjusting the flowers in her hair* and watched the stones for a moment. They weren't doing anything, of course, but that didn't mean anything. Nothing was doing much here at the time. The hills were usually alive, with music and ants and things, but except for the one bird in the sky, it was silent. That sort of silence tended to be interesting for so many reasons.
She stepped closer, sticking her hands on her hips, and said, "I'm here. Show me."
She wouldn't have been certain that anything would have happened, but of course something did. It was the silence. There had to be a reason for it. The figure of a dark-haired woman in a red dress appeared inside the circle of man-high slabby stones, stepping towards her as is crossing the distance from a long ways away. The fact that her visitor didn't run away screaming seemed to interest her.
"So you're real, then," the girl said.
"Of course. What is your name, girl?"
"Esmerelda."
"And what do you want?"
"I don't want anything."
"Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you here?"
"I just wanted to find out if you was real."
"To you, certainly... you have good sight."
She nodded. Yes. Yes she did. This wasn't up for debate.
"And now you have learned this, what is it that you really want?"
"Nothing?"
"Really? Last week you went all the way up to the mountains above Copperhead to talk to the trolls. What did you want from them?"
Esme tilted her head to one side. "How do you know I did that?"
"It's at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it. Anyone with good sight."
"I shall be able to do that one day."
"Who knows?" said the woman. "Possibly. What did you want from the trolls?"
"I... wanted to talk to them. D'you know they think time goes backward? Because you can see the past, they say-"
The woman laughed. "But they are like the stupid dwarfs! All they are interested in is pebbles. There is nothing of interest in pebbles."
Esme shrugged. She found them interesting enough, if you knew what to look for. "Why can't you come out from between the stones?" she wondered.
"I can help you find far more than pebbles."
"You can't come out of the circle, can you?"
"Let me give you what you want."
"I can go anywhere, but you're stuck in the circle."
"Can you go anywhere?"
"When I am a witch I shall be able to go anywhere."
"But you'll never be a witch."
That certainly wasn't anything Esme wanted to hear, especially from a woman stuck in the stones. "What?"
"They say you won't listen. They say you can't keep your temper. They say you have no discipline?"
She tossed her hair, showing the woman just what she thought of that. "Oh, you now that too, do you? Well they would say that, wouldn't they? But I mean to be a witch whatever they say. You can find things out for yourself. You don't have to listen to a lot of daft old ladies who've never had a life. And, circle lady, I shall be the best with there has ever been."
"With my help, I believe you may," said the woman. "Your young man is looking for you, I think?"
Esme shrugged. He could look. "I will, will I?"
"You could be a great witch. You could be anything. Anything you want. Come into the circle. Let me show you."
She began to step forward, then stopped. There was something to the tone of the woman's voice that she didn't like. She was a little too insistent, a little too eager. One might call it hungry. "But I'm learning a lot-"
"Step through the stones now!"
"How do I know-"
"Circle time is nearly over! Think of what you can learn! Now!"
"But-"
"Step through!"
And suddenly, just like that, the girl wasn't there anymore.
But not for the reasons you might think. In fact, it was a real conundrum to the woman.
*And no one had best point those out to her if they knew what was good for them. Anyone who didn't know what was good for them deserved to learn what was bad for them.
Very simply speaking, right at that second, the girl had simply gone down the wrong leg of the Trousers of Time.
Maybe not so simply. But if you squinted really hard and tilted your head and pretended, you might think it simple.
Where Esme ended up was a long road leading down towards a town. Wherever she was, it wasn't in the kingdom of Lancre, but it didn't look quite like any of the cities she knew of on the Disc should, either. And even more curiously, there was a small bald man in orange robes pushing a broom around the road, who looked up and grinned at her before going back to work.
Esme folded her arms over her chest and asked, "So what's this then?"
"Sorry?"
"There's nothing to sweep here. The road looks clean to me."
"I'm very thorough."
"I don't have time for this."
"I perhaps am not the best person to tell what you have time for, Miss Weatherwax."
That was better. "So who are you then?"
The man straightened for the moment. "Lu-Tze," he said. "But you can call me Sweeper."
"Clever."
"You wouldn't have time for me otherwise," he said pointedly.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on or would you like to be cryptic at me till I get bored?" She wouldn't get bored. She could outstubborn him.
Sweeper looked up towards the sky, taking a moment to consider this. Finally he looked at her and said, "You're so smart, I bet you can figure it out yourself."
Esme's brow furrowed, and she considered what she did know. "I was in the middle of a decision," she said, deciding that was the important part.
"That's all?"
"That's all I need."
He looked like he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of looking impressed. "Time's a funny thing," he said. "You never really know when the choice you make might send you down the wrong leg."
"Wrong leg?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"We ain't in a leg."
"We are, in a way," said Sweeper. "More like the part of the trousers with all the fastenings only certain kinds of people mention. If you said yes, that's one way of doing things. If you said no, that's another. You simply got caught in between. Maybe not so simply. But if you squint-"
"How do I get uncaught?"
"You don't. You stay caught until time works itself out- or when we work it out, whichever comes first- and you're back where you need to be."
"For how long?"
"Do you listen? When it works itself out. Then zap, you'll be right back where you belong."
"How much time would I lose?"
"Like I said, time's a funny thing. There's a lot of big words and confusing descriptions, and I don't think you'll be interested in any of that, so I'll give you a roundabout guesstimate of: probably none. The goal is to get you right back where you were when the catching happened. "
Esme continued to frown at him, assuming everything he told her was the truth, because she had no reason to distrust it. These things happened, she supposed, but she could be eternally frustrated that it had happened to her. "Very well," she said finally. "But make it snappy."
And then, with no further explanation, she set off towards the town, figuring if she was going to be stuck here, she should at least find a way to make herself more comfortable. Probably by making many others decidedly uncomfortable.
[Dialogue from the first half from Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett. NFB, NFI, look at me having canon for potential AU's, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!]
And when she ended up there, she stopped running, adjusting the flowers in her hair* and watched the stones for a moment. They weren't doing anything, of course, but that didn't mean anything. Nothing was doing much here at the time. The hills were usually alive, with music and ants and things, but except for the one bird in the sky, it was silent. That sort of silence tended to be interesting for so many reasons.
She stepped closer, sticking her hands on her hips, and said, "I'm here. Show me."
She wouldn't have been certain that anything would have happened, but of course something did. It was the silence. There had to be a reason for it. The figure of a dark-haired woman in a red dress appeared inside the circle of man-high slabby stones, stepping towards her as is crossing the distance from a long ways away. The fact that her visitor didn't run away screaming seemed to interest her.
"So you're real, then," the girl said.
"Of course. What is your name, girl?"
"Esmerelda."
"And what do you want?"
"I don't want anything."
"Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you here?"
"I just wanted to find out if you was real."
"To you, certainly... you have good sight."
She nodded. Yes. Yes she did. This wasn't up for debate.
"And now you have learned this, what is it that you really want?"
"Nothing?"
"Really? Last week you went all the way up to the mountains above Copperhead to talk to the trolls. What did you want from them?"
Esme tilted her head to one side. "How do you know I did that?"
"It's at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it. Anyone with good sight."
"I shall be able to do that one day."
"Who knows?" said the woman. "Possibly. What did you want from the trolls?"
"I... wanted to talk to them. D'you know they think time goes backward? Because you can see the past, they say-"
The woman laughed. "But they are like the stupid dwarfs! All they are interested in is pebbles. There is nothing of interest in pebbles."
Esme shrugged. She found them interesting enough, if you knew what to look for. "Why can't you come out from between the stones?" she wondered.
"I can help you find far more than pebbles."
"You can't come out of the circle, can you?"
"Let me give you what you want."
"I can go anywhere, but you're stuck in the circle."
"Can you go anywhere?"
"When I am a witch I shall be able to go anywhere."
"But you'll never be a witch."
That certainly wasn't anything Esme wanted to hear, especially from a woman stuck in the stones. "What?"
"They say you won't listen. They say you can't keep your temper. They say you have no discipline?"
She tossed her hair, showing the woman just what she thought of that. "Oh, you now that too, do you? Well they would say that, wouldn't they? But I mean to be a witch whatever they say. You can find things out for yourself. You don't have to listen to a lot of daft old ladies who've never had a life. And, circle lady, I shall be the best with there has ever been."
"With my help, I believe you may," said the woman. "Your young man is looking for you, I think?"
Esme shrugged. He could look. "I will, will I?"
"You could be a great witch. You could be anything. Anything you want. Come into the circle. Let me show you."
She began to step forward, then stopped. There was something to the tone of the woman's voice that she didn't like. She was a little too insistent, a little too eager. One might call it hungry. "But I'm learning a lot-"
"Step through the stones now!"
"How do I know-"
"Circle time is nearly over! Think of what you can learn! Now!"
"But-"
"Step through!"
And suddenly, just like that, the girl wasn't there anymore.
But not for the reasons you might think. In fact, it was a real conundrum to the woman.
*And no one had best point those out to her if they knew what was good for them. Anyone who didn't know what was good for them deserved to learn what was bad for them.
Very simply speaking, right at that second, the girl had simply gone down the wrong leg of the Trousers of Time.
Maybe not so simply. But if you squinted really hard and tilted your head and pretended, you might think it simple.
Where Esme ended up was a long road leading down towards a town. Wherever she was, it wasn't in the kingdom of Lancre, but it didn't look quite like any of the cities she knew of on the Disc should, either. And even more curiously, there was a small bald man in orange robes pushing a broom around the road, who looked up and grinned at her before going back to work.
Esme folded her arms over her chest and asked, "So what's this then?"
"Sorry?"
"There's nothing to sweep here. The road looks clean to me."
"I'm very thorough."
"I don't have time for this."
"I perhaps am not the best person to tell what you have time for, Miss Weatherwax."
That was better. "So who are you then?"
The man straightened for the moment. "Lu-Tze," he said. "But you can call me Sweeper."
"Clever."
"You wouldn't have time for me otherwise," he said pointedly.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on or would you like to be cryptic at me till I get bored?" She wouldn't get bored. She could outstubborn him.
Sweeper looked up towards the sky, taking a moment to consider this. Finally he looked at her and said, "You're so smart, I bet you can figure it out yourself."
Esme's brow furrowed, and she considered what she did know. "I was in the middle of a decision," she said, deciding that was the important part.
"That's all?"
"That's all I need."
He looked like he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of looking impressed. "Time's a funny thing," he said. "You never really know when the choice you make might send you down the wrong leg."
"Wrong leg?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"We ain't in a leg."
"We are, in a way," said Sweeper. "More like the part of the trousers with all the fastenings only certain kinds of people mention. If you said yes, that's one way of doing things. If you said no, that's another. You simply got caught in between. Maybe not so simply. But if you squint-"
"How do I get uncaught?"
"You don't. You stay caught until time works itself out- or when we work it out, whichever comes first- and you're back where you need to be."
"For how long?"
"Do you listen? When it works itself out. Then zap, you'll be right back where you belong."
"How much time would I lose?"
"Like I said, time's a funny thing. There's a lot of big words and confusing descriptions, and I don't think you'll be interested in any of that, so I'll give you a roundabout guesstimate of: probably none. The goal is to get you right back where you were when the catching happened. "
Esme continued to frown at him, assuming everything he told her was the truth, because she had no reason to distrust it. These things happened, she supposed, but she could be eternally frustrated that it had happened to her. "Very well," she said finally. "But make it snappy."
And then, with no further explanation, she set off towards the town, figuring if she was going to be stuck here, she should at least find a way to make herself more comfortable. Probably by making many others decidedly uncomfortable.
[Dialogue from the first half from Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett. NFB, NFI, look at me having canon for potential AU's, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!]