Miss Tick was making pennies by doing bits of medicine and misfortune-telling (Ordinary fortune-tellers tell you what you want to happen; witches tell you what’s going to happen whether you want it to or not. Strangely enough, witches tend to be more accurate but less popular)
‘Couldn’t say,’ said the teacher. ‘She says it’s thinking, but I don’t know how you teach that.
And all the stories had, somewhere, the witch. The wicked old witch. And Tiffany had thought: Where’s the evidence? The stories never said why she was wicked. It was enough to be an old woman, enough to be all alone, enough to look strange because you had no teeth. It was enough to be called a witch. If it came to that, the book never gave you the evidence of anything. It talked about ‘a handsome prince’… was he really, or was it just because he was a prince that people called him handsome? As for ‘a girl who was as beautiful as the day was long’… well, which day? In midwinter it hardly ever got light! The stories didn’t want you to think, they just wanted you to believe what you were told… »
‘Are you listening?’ ‘Yes,’ said Tiffany. ‘Good. Now… if you trust in yourself…’ ‘Yes?’ ‘… and believe in your dreams…’ ‘Yes?’ ‘… and follow your star…’ Miss Tick went on. ‘Yes?’ ‘… you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy. Goodbye.’ »
She tried to pretend she hadn’t thought that, but she was treacherously good at spotting when she was lying. That’s the trouble with a brain: it thinks more than you sometimes want it to. »
My talents are an instinct for making cheese and not running around panicking when things go wrong.
– Ye have the First Sight and the Second Thoughts, just like yer granny. That’s rare in a bigjob.
– Don’t you mean second sight? – Tiffany asked. – Like people who can see ghosts and stuff?
– Ach, no. That’s typical bigjob thinking. First Sight is when you can see what’s really there, not what your heid tells you ought to be there. Ye saw Jenny, ye saw the horseman, ye saw them as real thingies. Second sight is dull sight, it’s seeing only what you expect to see.
What’s magic, eh? Just wavin’ a stick an’ sayin’ a few wee magical words. An’ what’s so clever aboot that, eh? But lookin’ at things, really lookin’ at ’em, and then workin’ ’em oout, now, that’s a real skill.”
Tiffany’s Second Thoughts said: Hang on, was that a First Thought? And Tiffany thought: No, that was a Third Thought. I’m thinking about how I think about what I’m thinking. At least, I think so. Her Second Thoughts said: Let’s all calm down, please, because this is quite a small head.
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.
All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine! I have a duty!
And with all the treasure you’ve stolen, you can pay enough to be very innocent indeed.
“The secret is not to dream,” she whispered. “The secret is to wake up. Waking up is harder. I have woken up and I am real. I know where I come from and I know where I’m going. You cannot fool me anymore. Or touch me. Or anything that is mine.
But there’s magic, too. You’ll pick that up. It don’t take much intelligence, otherwise wizards wouldn’t be able to do it.
“It’s amazin’ what people can get used to”, said Mrs. Ogg. “You just have to start slow.”