Enchantress

"Just like magic," frowned Octavia.

"He's not the full quid, but he can't hurt anyone. He'll probably be at his hunting station." Bruce took a piece of parchment, a quill and ink and began to write. "I'll give you directions."

Nick starred at the pamphlet, his brow furrowed in concentration, and he finally said, "Thanks, c-c-cobber."

Octavia whirled and gasped, he read that! He found that word and read it out loud without anyone's help. When they met a little over a dozen days ago he couldn't read a word, and here he not only read one out loud, but he also searched for and found a specific word out of a list of words. He wasn't some dumb gutter kid, learning to read like that takes some mental horsepower.

As Octavia was overwhelmed with pride and surprise, Bruce handed her the directions to Bruce's hunting station. "It's not exactly the back of Bourke, but it's not within cooee either." Then he placed two huge cans on the bar, both cans emblazoned with the symbol of their country - XXXX. "Care for a tinnie? Y' know, a roadie?"

"What' is that?" asked Nick.

"Down heeh, it's how we say beeh."

After Octavia and Nick took the cans and left another wizard stepped up to the librarian's desk and slapped a one moolah coin on the desk, "A coldie, mate."

Bruce placed a tallie on the desktop and said, "Cheers, Bruce."

As Bruce lifted the huge beer to his lips, a drunk in the corner called out, "Oi!" causing Bruce to put another moolah coin on the desk. "Get me another one for me mate Bruce."

Bruce opened another tallie and handed it to Bruce. "Here's a cold one for Bruce," said Bruce.

"So, the visitors... their names weren't Bruce?" asked Bruce.

"Nah, it were Façade an' sumpin else... Porter," said Bruce as he put the moolah in the cash box.

"Won't that be a bit confusing?" Bruce looked perplexed.

"They're already confused," said Bruce the Librarian sadly. "The one bloke is clearly not a wizard, and the other bloke clearly is a wizard, but he's also a Sheila so she's not a wizard."

"Which one was that?" asked Bruce the Wizard.

"The one with the nice cans."

"Too right, her disguise spell didn't do much to hide those norks, did it."

"Nah, notta tall..." Bruce thought for a moment then asked, "That one bloke, the bloke that was a bloke, d'ya think he knows there's a gargoyle hanging on to his backpack?"

"Ehhh, prolly not, but he's ok, for a seppo..."

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

The small team which contained one wizard that wasn't a wizard because he wasn't a bloke, and one short bloke who revealed no past soon discovered just how far "not exactly the back of Bourke, but not within cooee" was, which turned out to be a two day hike. The directions that Bruce gave them were clear:

"Walk to the tree. Once you're at the tree you will see two more trees, walk to the tree on the left. From there head to the river. Follow the river hubwards, the station cabin is on the banks of the river."

They stepped out of the library which was on the edge of the university campus and looked in all directions and soon they spotted it, the only tree they could see was far off in the distance, shimmering in the heat waves, a dead tree.

"When did you learn to read?" Octavia' asked as they stepped out across the parched grassland.

"It isn't easy, but your dad helped. He cast a spell on me that helps me remember when I get something right."

"He just did that?"

"Well... I went to him after we first met and told him that education was pretty important to you, and I never got any, so I asked him for help and he gave me what he called a tutorial spell."

"I could have done that for you," said Octavia.

"Yes, but I wanted to do it for you, I didn't want you to think I was such a dummy."

"I don't think of you that way," she insisted softly.

"I think of me that way," said Nick, and he was silent for a long time as they walked. They were well out of sight of Bugarup University when Gula hopped off of his backpack and followed along in her odd "now you see me, now you don't" style of movement. Occasionally she would dig a shallow hole in the sandy soil and squat over it then a few minutes later she would cover it over with dirt - it was that time of the millennia after all.

Eventually Octavia stopped and when Nick drew up alongside of her she held his hand and wordlessly they began to walk together, more together than Nick had felt with anyone in his life. "Thank you," Nick eventually whispered.

"For what?"

Nick gently squeezed her hand and said, "for caring."

Octavia couldn't fathom not caring or not being cared about. Yes, she was a foundling dropped off in the dark of the night by a stranger she in another circumstance may have called "mother," but she was taken in by a long limbed, hair covered simian with the brain of a lonely, caring man who desperately dreamed of being a grandfather. In order to be able to continually stave off the monthly Apocalypses that the wizards of the Unseen University routinely initiate and protect her from magical fallout he had to find help and shelter for her. Octavia found herself growing up in a series of caring homes and passed reluctantly from one loving librarian to the next as tradition soon dictated on a rotating basis.

How does she tell this man that if he proves to be The One that he has not one but a series of potential fathers-in-law that he must pass muster with before he can Pop The Question? Would he run screaming into the night at the thought? And why is she thinking about this? She's never considered this before she met Nick.

She pondered this question over and over and before she realized it they reached the tree that they had seen far in the distance. From a distance it looked quite dead but close up she could see that it had leaves but only at the very end of the branches and on the tree were two small creatures that looked like children's toys that sat on branches on opposite sides of the tree thoughtfully chewing on the leaves they could reach.

"What are those?" asked Nick.

"I think those are the drop bears that the pamphlet mentioned."

"They don't look fierce."

"What's that noise?" asked Octavia. "It's coming from your backpack." The noise sounded like bricks being across a cobblestone street.

"I think that's Gula," said Nick. "I don't think she likes them. There's the next tree." He pointed off into the distance. There was a tree far off at the edge of sight but he was pointing to the left of that.

Octavia squinted and saw something in the far distance, but she wasn't sure what it was. She decided to trust Nick and said, "let's go look." She shrugged off her little pink and purple backpack, reached in and pulled out her walking stick, however instead of it being just a meter long walking stick, it was now a full two meters long, a full-fledged wizard's staff. She shrugged her backpack back on and said, "here, hold my arm."

Nick grabbed her arm, and she urged him to hold on tight, then she started muttering under her breath. Suddenly there was a rush of light blue and light brown, a blast of hot dry air and they were there. They were three feet off the ground, but they were there, they had traveled the entire distance in the matter of a moment. A large tree picked clean of leaves stood to their right and they thudded to a hot, sweaty landing in a cloud of dust.

They sat up amid Gula's squawking and Nick's coughing up dust. "Why didn't we do that the first time?" asked Nick. "We covered about 20 miles! That's... Octavia?" The hourglass shaped wizardress wasn't conscious. Nick was still clinging to her arm, so he lowered her down to the ground. "Octavia?" he patted her cheek because that's what he saw in a moving picture at a theater, it was a clickie with Victor Maraschino and Delores de Syn and every time Delores de Syn fainted, Victor Maraschino would pat her cheek and she would wake up. It happened at least twice in every clickie he saw.

Nick patted Octavia's cheeks, but she didn't regain consciousness. He sat down next to her and found to his great relief that she was breathing regularly and deeply, which he hoped was a good sign.

"It is."

He looked around and there was no one. There was him, Octavia who was unconscious, and Gula who was currently standing under the tree looking up, mouth wide open, claws bared, daring any drop bear to try her patience. There was also Octavia's walking stick who was standing nearby staring at Nick without any eyes, if it did have a face, it would have an expression that would clearly say "What. The. Fuck."

Just then Octavia rolled on to her side and wrapped her arms around Nick's leg, then she muttered something unintelligible and started to snore. "She wore herself out bringing you this far. If it were just me and her, she would have made it to Bruce Bockschecker's hunting station, got the spell gathered up and would have been back in Ankh-Morpork by now."

"Look, stick, it appears that I'm..."

"I have a name you know!" insisted Octavia's walking stick, her wooden voice rang in Nick's head like a finely tuned marimba.

"I'm sorry," said Nick, "what is it?"

The stick fussed and fumed... it really didn't have a name, but Nick didn't know that. "Why should I tell you? I've been by her side for years, it's not important that you know my name." If the stick had a back, she would have turned it on Nick.

Nick interrupted the stick. "You're right it's not. What's important is that we get along. You and I are here to help her in every way possible and if we can do that together she'll be the most powerful wizard..."

"She's not a wizard!" shrieked the stick, "She's an enchantress! How can she enchant anyone if you're following her around like some sad mute puppy!"

"I didn't know..." gasped Nick out loud. An enchantress? He had never heard of such a thing, but it sounded very important. He fumbled and stumbled for something to say but the stick saw that it now had the advantage.

"I bet you thought that she actually liked you, didn't you," demanded the stick.

"I thought... I like her..." Nick was lost and confused.

"Nick the Brick Nicker, that's all you were to her, someone to carry her luggage, why do you think you have such a big pack and she carries a small pack? You're just a mule to her!"

Suddenly his entire world collapsed in on itself. He ruined everything, his mother is dead because of him, at least that's what his drunken father said when he kicked Nick out on to the streets at the age of five. He didn't want anything horrible to befall Octavia and there's only one way to fix that. He set his pack next to her, so she had something to snuggle with, the whole time the stick taunted him and reminded him of every failure in his life. He heard a coughing sob at his side. Looking down he saw Gula trying to follow him. He crouched down and whispered, "No Gula, the stick is right, I need to go. You stay here with Miss Octavia; you need to protect her from the drop bears. Ok? Once she's done her Rite of Prose Mino and the baby turtles are safe, you come find me, ok? Now no crying, you have to be happy for Miss Octavia."

Ignoring the taunts and jeers of the walking stick he gazed at the face of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, now even more beautiful in the starlight. Silently wishing her luck he leaned over and gently kissed her lips. Then he stood and walked off into the night.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

As the sun rose and began to bake the XXXX landscape, Octavia woke to a horrible squealing and growling, the noise was deafening, and why was she using Nick's backpack as a pillow? And why is Gula shouting "Die! Die! Die!" at something? She looked toward the source of the noise and discovered that Gula had something furry pinned to the ground. The little stone gargoyle had a drop bear by the throat, and she was trying to kill the fuzzy little intruder.

"Gula! Let the little bear up!"

"NO! DIE DIE DIE!" (it came out "Oh! Eye eye eye!")

"Gula please!" Octavia tried to get Gula to release her grip but the gargoyle was shrieking and crying and all she told Octavia was "Nick say"

Reluctantly Gula stopped trying to kill the little bear and loosened her grip around the drop bear's throat and the drop bear wriggled its way free. With a kick from the drop bear Gula rolled over onto her back and stopped with her claws in the air, and the drop bear shuffled back to the tree. Gula changed her mind and took off after it giving Octavia the chance to see the gargoyles "stop action" method of locomotion that amused Nick so much. Smiling at Gula's motion, Octavia opened Nick's pack to grab a bottle of water, then she noticed that Gula was trembling.

"Gula relax, it was just a drop bear!" She searched Nicks pack and suddenly realized that except for the water he gave her yesterday as they walked, every bottle of water that Nick carried was untouched. "Why didn't he drink any?" she asked aloud, and that's when Gula started whining. It was a piercing klaxon call, ear splitting in its volume and heart breaking in its sorrow.

"Iiik av ii or oo!" {Nick saved it for you}

"What do you mean... he saved it all for me?"

A gargoyle cannot close their mouth because of the way they were created. A Gargoyle is an ornamental drain vent, and a drain vent with a closed mouth is utterly useless. Gula's mouth was still open but it was drawn down in sorrow, her eyes were leaking tears as she wailed.

"Aw geez, we gotta put up with that again?" whined the walking stick.

"What do you mean "again"?" Octavia whirled on the stick.

"Ick faid a fick wuf ite," {Nick said the stick was right} wept Gula, "Faid I atta oh." {said I gotta go} Not having a tongue or being able to close your mouth limits conversations.

Octavia sighed as she tried to comfort the weeping stone effigy. She didn't understand a word that Gula was saying without reading her mind... and Nick is able to understand what Gula says with great ease, it's almost like he's... shit. How could she miss that? "Gula honey, did the stick say anything to Nick?"

"Gargoyles are known liars," said the walking stick.

Octavia ignored that. Although it was handy having a walking stick that could keep pace with you, that damn stick could be such a jealous bitch. "Gargoyles can't lie, they were never told how to," said Octavia. Gargoyles interactions with humans are limited, they were only made to drain rainwater away from the sides of gothic structures, not hold conversations, and only the gargoyles of the Unseen University have soaked up enough magical radiation to reach a state of sentience. She asked again, "Gula honey, did the stick say anything to Nick?"

Gula considered Octavia's question then shrugged her shoulders, "I ont owe."

"Did Nick ever talk to the stick, honey?"

"Uh huh. Ee uz add."

"He was sad?"

"Uh huh. Ee had oo owe."

"He had to go?"

"Uh huh." Then the sniffling started.

Octavia rose and whirled on the walking stick that was now starting to back up. "You had an argument with Nick," snarled the enchantress, "didn't you."

"We may have exchanged a few unpleasant pleasantries."

"The whole time you were exchanging pleasantries with a mundane you didn't notice that he could hear you?"

The subject here is not telepathy because ESP does not exist on the discworld. The strong magic field on the discworld acts as radio interference to the mind reader, it would cause mental tinnitus. What Octavia was talking about was magical communication, a form of using magic to read over your target's mental shoulder. This didn't involve brain waves; this was a feat that only a few very powerful wizards and a depressingly large number of magical items could do. And it's very rare that a "mundane" a non-magic user could fathom the process.

The walking stick stumbled as it backed away, having no mouth or ears it could only communicate magically, a talent all items made of sapient pearwood have, but since very few humans have it, the sapient pearwood devices have a highly entertaining life reading any mind they want and ignoring minds that they should pay attention to. The only way Nick could have heard the walking stick was if he were magically well endowed, something only the most powerful wizards are... or a small child that spent two decades soaking up magical radiation along with the gargoyles. The only thing that she knows about Nick's life is that he was a street urchin his whole life, and he spent his whole life right there next to UU.

The stick finally said, "The whole time we were walking from Bugarup University to this gawd forsaken place you two didn't say a word, you need someone supportive of you." If the stick had arms, it would be holding them up trying to shield itself from Octavia's high voltage glare.

"We had wonderful conversations walking out here, and you didn't hear a word?"

"I ehinh" {I didn't} said Gula.

Octavia thought about it, then realized she didn't hear anything either, she just now realized that their conversations were all silent, they were whispers in each other's heads, how did she miss that?

"Of course not, that would be rude... ack!" Octavia got the stick in a death grip - an angered fist at each end of the stick and a knee pressing against the middle. "Stop!" cried the stick, then it tried to bargain with Octavia. "Do you know what happens if you break a piece of sapient pearwood in half?"

"Yeah, I get two pieces of sapient pearwood."

"Uh yeah, you get... but the resale value goes way down."

"Show me what happened between you and Nick," snarled Octavia as she pulled back on each end of the walking stick.

"I'm not a video camera!" squawked the stick.

"SHOW ME!" demanded Octavia who had no idea what a video camera was, but she knew what snapping wood fibers sounded like and she projected to the stick exactly what that sounded like.

"OK!" shrieked the stick and suddenly Octavia saw Nick looking at her, but this was last night when he was looking at the stick. "What's important is that we get along. You and I are here to help her in every way possible and if we can do that together she'll be the most powerful wizard..."

Then the stick replied, "She's not a wizard! She's an enchantress! How can she enchant anyone if you're following her around like some sad mute puppy... Nick the Brick Nicker, that's all you were to her, someone to carry her luggage, why do you think you have such a big pack and she carries a small pack? You're just a mule to her!"

Octavia choked, she and Nick tussled over that pack, he insisted on making sure she had everything she could possibly need while she only wanted to bring a change of clothing and some dried fruit to munch on. Then she saw an emotionally shattered Nick talking to a crying gargoyle "No Gula, the stick is right, I need to go. You stay here with Miss Octavia; you need to protect her from the drop bears. Ok? Once she's done her Rite of Prose Mino and the baby turtles are safe, you come find me, ok? Now no crying, you have to be happy for Miss Octavia."

She saw the stick emotionally abuse the man she loved as he walked off into the desert, knowing full well he will not survive. "You fucking BITCH!" Octavia threw the walking stick as far as she could javelin style and it landed head down in the sand with its little feet waving around in the glaring morning sun. Her anger wasn't spent but for the moment it was all she could do. Octavia sagged to her knees in the desert sun and tried not to cry, which only made it worse. She found herself comforting Gula scratching the stone creature behind the wings. "Come on girl, let's go find Nick." Gula coughed an "Ok" and they gathered up the two back packs and headed off into the desert.