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randah, and from the teapot on the table.
Granny lay back in an ancient cane chair and let the unseasonal warmth creep
around her ankles. She idly watched a team of city ants, who had lived under the
flagstones of the University for so long that the high levels of background magic
had permanently altered their genes, anthandling a damp sugar lump down from
the bowl on to a tiny trolley. Another group was erecting a matchstick gantry at
the edge of the table.
Granny may or may not have been interested to learn that one of the ants was
Drum Billet, who had finally decided to give Life another chance.
They say, she said, that if you can find an ant on Hogswatch Day it will be
very mild for the rest of the winter.
Who says that? said Cutangle.
Generally people who are wrong, said Granny. I makes a note in my Al-
manack, see. I checks. Most things most people believe are wrong.
Like red sky at night, the city s alight , said Cutangle. And you can t teach
an old dog new tricks.
I don t think that s what old dogs are for, said Granny. The sugar lump had
reached the gantry now, and a couple of ants were attaching it to a microscopic
block and tackle.
I can t understand half the things Simon says, said Cutangle, although some
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of the students get very excited about it.
I understand what Esk says all right, I just don t believe it, said Granny.
Except the bit about wizards needing a heart.
She said that witches need a head, too, said Cutangle. Would you like a
scone? A bit damp, I m afraid.
She told me that if magic gives people what they want, then not using magic
can give them what they need, said Granny, her hand hovering over the plate.
So Simon tells me. I don t understand it myself, magic s for using, not storing
up. Go on, spoil yourself.
Magic beyond magic, snorted Granny. She took the scone and spread jam
on it. After a pause she spread cream on it too.
The sugar lump crashed to the flagstones and was immediately surrounded by
another team of ants, ready to harness it to a long line of red ants enslaved from
the kitchen garden.
Cutangle shifted uneasily in his seat, which creaked.
Esmerelda, he began, I ve been meaning to ask
No, said Granny.
Actually I was going to say that we think we might allow a few more girls
into the University. On an experimental basis. Once we get the plumbing sorted
out, said Cutangle.
That s up to you, of course.
And, and, it occurred to me that since we seem destined to become a co-
educational establishment, as it were, it seemed to me, that is
Well?
If you might see your way clear to becoming, that is, whether you would
accept a Chair.
He sat back. The sugar lump passed under his chair on matchstick rollers, the
squeaking of the slavedriver ants just at the edge of hearing.
Hmm, said Granny, I don t see why not. I ve always wanted one of those
big wicker ones, you know, with the sort of sunshade bit on the top. If that s not
too much trouble.
That isn t exactly what I meant, said Cutangle, adding quickly, although
I m sure that could be arranged. No, I mean, would you come and lecture the
students? Once in a while?
What on?
Cutangle groped for a subject.
Herbs? he hazarded. We re not very good on herbs here. And headology.
Esk told me a lot about headology. It sounds fascinating.
The sugar lump disappeared through a crack in a nearby wall with a final jerk.
Cutangle nodded towards it.
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They re very heavy on the sugar, he said, but we haven t got the heart to do
anything about it.
Granny frowned, and then nodded across the haze over the city to the distant
glitter of the snow on the Ramtops.
It s a long way, she said. I can t be keeping on going backwards and for-
wards at my time of life.
We could buy you a much better broomstick, said Cutangle. One you don t
have to bump start. And you, you could have a flat here. And all the old clothes
you can carry, he added, using the secret weapon. He had wisely invested in
some conversation with Mrs Whitlow.
Mmph, said Granny, Silk?
Black and red, said Cutangle. An image of Granny in black and red silk
trotted across his mind, and he bit heavily into his scone.
And maybe we can bring some students out to your cottage in the summer,
Cutangle went on, for extra-mural studies.
Who s Extra Muriel?
I mean, there s lots they can learn, I m sure.
Granny considered this. Certainly the privy needed a good seeing-to before
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