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Inga reported success with the shipment. “Sonovason promises delivery in five days.” “Five?” Rhodda repeated, surprised. “He’s never had to find Stanleyvale on a map before," Inga replied, “or he’d have promised four.” “That’s fine,” Thorrin said. He looked over his map. “Okay. We have Hattie in the basement, so we might as well take her home. But we have a bit to do, first. “It’ll take us two days to get to the Istanzia border, then two days back, then a further day to Stanleyvale. We’ll probably get there just as they’re unloading on the farm. You can tell the family who gets what.” “Why are we going to Istanzia?” Rhodda asked. “Wizard business,” he said shortly. “With what?” Inga asked. Thorrin sighed. Inga sat down, her attention hyper-focused on her boss. “Okay. The city has made necromancy illegal. Different from Klatch, where they outlawed necromancers, here they outlawed the magic. The immediate effect is that I have to put the maids back tonight. Then

So… remember that sports club I mentioned back in my review of Mort by the same author? Yeah, got this from the same place. Someone must be clearing out their Discworld novels, and this time it’s a hardback (so was 50p). I’ve also since done some research after reading and enjoying Mort and discovered that it literally does not matter where you jump in: while there are ‘series’ for certain characters, each book works as a standalone. So, it’s basically like the Redwall series… and if I had known that I would have jumped in sooner! At least I’m here now, and I did expect this to be very different. Mort was book 4 in terms of publication, this is book 38 and one of five books that Pratchett wrote after receiving the Alzheimer’s diagnosis. I was aware that this would be darker and perhaps a little more scattered in terms of writing… I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett is the fourth book focusing on witch Tiffiany Aching. Now 16, Tiffany does the usual jobs as a witch, which in

“So what are you doing caged out here?” Carter asked. Vimes took a long pull on the cigar Carter had given him. “Well, I’m not a dwarf, so they don’t have me smelting copper. I’m not a wizard, so I’m not doing whatever they’ve got the wizards doing.” “They’re no an assembly line for enchanting things,” Carter said. Vimes shrugged. It was a detail with no impact on his situation. “Anyway, they’re working the mine, but it’s not producing at the rate they need.” He waved at the parked wagons. “So they have me helping some town civilians in dragging the tailings out to the piles, and recover the leftover ore. They’re still not up to quota, but every little bit helps.” “Quota for what?” “Who knows?” Vimes took a long puff on the cigar, then suddenly tossed it through the bars of the door. “Hmm. I just THOUGHT about setting my wagon on fire.” “Good spell,” Carter mused. He scratched his chin. “Wait. If wizards are doing magic, and dwarves are smelting, and you’re