On the other side of the clearing, where the nut-cracking man had been at work, was the last nut, half as high as Tiffany. And it was rocking gently. The cracker took a swipe at it with the hammer, and it rolled out of the way. See what’s really there… said Tiffany to herself, and laughed. The Queen gave her a puzzled look. ‘You find this funny?’ she demanded. ‘What’s funny about this? What is amusing about this situation?’ ‘I just had a funny thought,’ said Tiffany. The Queen glared, as people without a sense of humour do when they’re confronted with a smile. You’re not very clever, thought Tiffany. You’ve never needed to be. You can get what you want just by dreaming it. You believe in your dreams, so you never have to think . She turned and whispered to Roland, ‘Crack the nut! Don’t worry about what I do, crack the nut!’ The boy looked at her blankly. ‘What did you say to him?’ snapped the Queen. ‘I said goodbye,’ said Tiffany, holding on tightly to her brother. ‘I’m not handing my brother over, no matter what you do!’ ‘Do you know what colour your insides are?’ said the Queen. Tiffany shook her head mutely. ‘Well, now you’ll find out,’ said the Queen, smiling sweetly. ‘You’re not powerful enough to do anything like that,’ said Tiffany. ‘You know, you are right,’ said the Queen. That kind of physical magic is, indeed, very hard. But I can make you think I’ve done the most… terrible things. And that, little girl, is all I need to do. Would you like to beg for mercy now? You may not be able to later.’ Tiffany paused. ‘No-o,’ she said at last. ‘I don’t think I will.’ The Queen leaned down. Her grey eyes filled Tiffany’s world. ‘People here will remember this for a long time,’ she said. ‘I hope so,’ said Tiffany. ‘Crack… the… nut.’ For a moment the Queen looked puzzled again. She was not good at dealing with sudden changes. ‘What?’ ‘Eh? Oh… right,’ muttered Roland. ‘What did you say to him?’ the Queen demanded, as the boy ran towards the hammer man. Tiffany kicked her on the leg. It wasn’t a witch thing. It was so nine years old, and she wished she could have thought of something better. On the other hand, she had hard boots and it was a good kick. The Queen shook her. ‘Why did you do that?’ she said. ‘Why won’t you do what I say? Everyone could be so happy if only they’d do what I say!’ Tiffany stared at the woman’s face. The eyes were grey now, but the pupils were like silver mirrors. I know what you are, said her Third Thoughts. You’re something that’s never learned anything. You don’t know anything about people. You’re just… a child that’s got old. ‘Want a sweetie?’ she whispered. There was a shout behind her. She twisted in the Queen’s grip, and saw Roland fighting for the hammer. As she watched he turned desperately and raised the heavy thing over his head, knocking over the elf behind him. The Queen pulled her round savagely as the hammer fell. ‘Sweetie?’ she hissed. ‘I’ll show you swe—’ ‘Crivens! It’s the Quin! An’ she’s got oour kelda, the ol’ topher!’ ‘Nae quinl Nae laird! Wee Free Men!’ ‘I could murrrder a kebab!’ ‘Get her!’ Tiffany might have been the only person, in all the worlds that there are, to be happy to hear the sound of the Nac Mac Feegle. They poured out of the smashed nut. Some were still wearing bow ties. Some were back in their kilts. But they were all in a fighting mood and, to save time, were fighting with one another to get up to speed. The clearing… cleared. Real or dreams, the people could see trouble when it rolled towards them in a roaring, cursing, red and blue tide. Tiffany ducked out of the Queen’s grasp and, still holding Wentworth, hurried into the grasses to watch. Big Yan ran past, carrying a struggling full-sized elf over his head. Then he stopped suddenly, and tossed it high over the clearing. ‘An’ away he goes, right on his heid! ’ he yelled, then turned and ran back into the battle.