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“It’s bad form to use their waystone to come all the way out here and not even leave a coin,” said Fairhrim.

She left a coin on the windowsill and made Osric leave one, too.

The Plague and the Crouton pressed their tacn to the waystone and went to Nether Wallop.

7

The Vicissitudes of Hate

Osric

Osric and Fairhrim materialised in Nether Wallop (pub: the Tiddlywink) and found it to be a pretty country village. They hailed a woman herding sleepy, fat sheep with an enquiry about Widdershins.

“You want the old professor?” The woman pointed down a country lane. “That way. The burnt-down place. Good luck to you.”

“Why the luck?” asked Osric.

“He’s Away, isn’t he?” said the shepherdess.

“Er—so he’s not there?”

“No,” said the shepherdess, as though Osric was being thick. “He’s Away. He’s there, of course—but he’s not.”

“He’s there but he’s not?”

“Pixie-led, you know,” said the shepherdess.

“Pixie-led?” repeated Fairhrim.

“Fairy-struck,” said the shepherdess.

In the face of Fairhrim’s and Osric’s blank stares, she apparently concluded that she was dealing with two fully licensed cretins, and gaveup. She bimbled off with her charges, muttering that any one of her sheep had more brains than the two of them combined.

The country lane led them to an old, burnt shell of a cottage just outside the village proper. Osric knocked upon the sooty door.

“Do we address him as Professor?” asked Fairhrim. “He’s not one anymore, not really, after the fiasco about the fairy tongues. I suppose it’s just Widdershins. Mr.Widdershins. Let me talk, as we agreed. Don’t threaten him.”

“Asweagreed? I never agreed,” said Osric.

“You did. You saidAll right.”

“I saidAll right, your approach confirms that you know nothing about intelligence gathering. NotAll right, let’s proceed with your amateur plan.”

“Myamateur plan? We should be looking for his old publications in archives to see if we can find a copy of the retracted piece about the Stone, not shaking him down in his own home in the middle of the night. This isyouramateur plan.”

“I know you enjoy snuffling about in dust for hours on end, butI’drather go to the source.”

“Your techniques are out-of-date and needlessly cruel.”

“Your way involves a century of research, which is time I simply don’t have.”

“If you’ve got so little time, then why are we going on wild-goose chases instead of following the data?”

“The datahas had three chances to prove itself and has failed every time.”

“I told you, that’s the nature of this kind of experiment—whichyouinsisted on pursuing.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t an experiment.”