Maskerade

''Cracking dialogue, compelling illogic and unchained whimsy . . .'' Sunday Times

The Discworld is very much like our own - if our own were to consist of a flat planet balanced on the back of four elephants which stand on the back of a giant turtle, that is . . .

What sort of person sits down and writes a maniacal laugh? And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head. Opera can do that to a man . . .

It can also bring Death. And plenty of it. In unpleasant variations.

This isn''t real life - it''s worse. This is the Opera House, Ankh-Morpork . . . a huge, rambling building where innocent young sopranos are being targeted by a strangely familiar evil mastermind in a mask and evening dress and with a penchant for lurking in shadows and occasional murder.

But Granny Weatherwax, Discworld''s most formidable witch, is in the audience