Excerpt from A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Tell me about Miss Level," Tiffany said quickly. The name and address were all she knew about the lady she was going to stay with, but an address like "Miss Level, Cottage in the Woods Near the Dead Oak Tree in Lost Man’s Lane, High Overhang, If Out Leave Letters in Old Boot by Door" sounded promising.

"Miss Level, yes," said Miss Tick, defeated. "Er, yes. She’s not really very old, but she says she’ll be happy to have a third pair of hands around the place."

You couldn’t slip words past Tiffany, not even if you were Miss Tick.

"So there’s someone else there already?" she said.

"Er . . . no. Not exactly," said Miss Tick.

"Then she’s got four arms?" said Tiffany. Miss Tick sounded like someone trying to avoid a subject.

Miss Tick sighed. It was difficult to talk to someone who paid attention all the time. It put you off.

"It’s best if you wait until you meet her," she said. "Anything I tell you will only give you the wrong idea. I’m sure you’ll get along with her. She’s very good with people, and in her spare time she’s a research witch. She keeps bees—and goats, the milk of which, I believe, is very good indeed, owing to homogenized fats."

"What does a research witch do?"

"Oh, it’s a very ancient craft. She tries to find new spells by learning how old ones were really done. You know all that stuff about ‘ear of bat and toe of frog’? They never work, but Miss Level thinks it’s because we don’t know exactly what kind of frog, or which toe—"

"I’m sorry, but I’m not going to help anyone chop up innocent frogs and bats," said Tiffany firmly.

"Oh, no, she never kills any!" said Miss Tick hurriedly. "She only uses creatures that have died naturally or been run over or committed suicide. Frogs can get quite depressed at times."

The cart rolled on down the white, dusty road, until it was lost from view.

Nothing happened. Skylarks sang, so high up they were invisible. Grass seeds filled the air. Sheep baa’d, high up on the Chalk.

And then something came along the road. It moved like a little slow whirlwind, so it could be seen only by the dust it stirred up. As it went past, it made a noise like a swarm of flies.

Then it, too, disappeared down the hill. . . .

After a while a voice, low down in the long grass, said: "Ach, crivens! And it’s on her trail, right enough!"

A second voice said: "Surely the old hag will spot it?"

"Whut? The teachin’ hag? She’s nae a proper hag!"

"She’s got the pointy hat under all them flowers, Big Yan," said the second voice a bit reproachfully. "I seen it. She presses a wee spring an’ the point comes up!"

"Oh, aye, Hamish, an’ I daresay she does the readin’ and the writin’ well enough, but she disna ken aboot stuff that’s no’ in books. An’ I’m no’ showin’ meself while she’s aroond. She’s the kind of a body that’d write things doon about a man! C’mon, let’s go and find the kelda!"

From A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett.  Copyright © 2004 by Terry and Lyn Pratchett.  All rights reserved.  Reproduced by permission of Harper Collins Publishers.