tp.lightfantastic-第43部分

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　'Death；'　corrected　Twoflower。
　'Death　what？'　said　Rincewind。
　'Certain　death；'　said　Twoflower　helpfully；　trying　to　ignore　the　slow　but　inexorable　slide　of　his　body　across　the　flagstones。　'Hanging　over　certain　death。　You　don't　like　heights。'
　'Heights　I　don't　mind；'　said　Rincewind's　voice　from　the　darkness。　'Heights　I　can　live　with。　It's　depths　that　are　occupying　my　attention　at　the　moment。　Do　you　know　what　I'm　going　to　do　when　we　get　out　of　this？'
　'No？'　said　Twoflower；　wedging　his　toes　into　a　gap　in　the　flagstones　and　trying　to　make　himself　immobile　by　sheer　force　of　will。
　'I'm　going　to　build　a　house　in　the　flattest　country　I　can　find　and　it's　only　going　to　have　a　ground　floor　and　I'm　not　even　going　to　wear　sandals　with　thick　soles　…'
　The　leading　torch　came　around　the　last　turn　of　the　spiral　and　Twoflower　looked　down　on　the　grinning　face　of　Cohen。　Behind　him；　still　hopping　awkwardly　up　the　stones；　he　could　make　out　the　reassuring　bulk　of　the　Luggage。
　'Everything　all　right？'　said　Cohen。　'Can　I　do　anything？'
　Rincewind　took　a　deep　breath。
　Twoflower　recognised　the　signs。　Rincewind　was　about　to　say　something　like；　'Yes；　I've　got　this　itch　on　the　back　of　my　neck；　you　couldn't　scratch　it；　could　you；　on　your　way　past？'　or　'No；　I　enjoy　hanging　over　bottomless　drops'　and　he　decided　he　couldn't　possibly　face　that。　He　spoke　very　quickly。
　'Pull　Rincewind　back　onto　the　stairs；'　he　snapped。　Rincewind　deflated　in　mid…snarl。
　Cohen　caught　him　around　the　waist　and　jerked　him　unceremoniously　onto　the　stones。
　'Nasty　mess　down　on　the　floor　down　there；'　he　said　conversationally。　'Who　was　it？'
　'Did　it…'　Rincewind　swallowed；　'did　it　have　…　you　know　…　tentacles　and　things？'
　'No；'　said　Cohen。　'Just　the　normal　bits。　Spread　out　a　bit；　of　course。'
　Rincewind　looked　at　Twoflower；　who　shook　his　head。
　'Just　a　wizard　who　let　things　get　on　top　of　him；'　he　said。
　Unsteadily；　with　his　arms　screaming　at　him；　Rincewind　let　himself　be　helped　back　onto　the　roof　of　the　tower。
　'How　did　you　get　here？'　he　added。
　Cohen　pointed　to　the　Luggage；　which　had　trotted　over　203　to　Twoflower　and　opened　its　lid　like　a　dog　that　knows　it's　been　bad　and　is　hoping　that　a　quick　display　of　affection　may　avert　the　rolled…up　newspaper　of　authority。
　'Bumpy　but　fast；'　he　said　admiringly。　'I'll　tell　you　this；　no…one　tries　to　stop　you。'
　Rincewind　looked　up　at　the　sky。　It　was　indeed　full　of　moons；　huge　cratered　discs　now　ten　times　bigger　than　the　Disc's　tiny　satellite。　He　looked　at　them　without　much　interest。　He　felt　washed　out　and　stretched　well　beyond　breaking　point；　as　fragile　as　ancient　elastic。
　He　noticed　that　Twoflower　was　trying　to　set　up　his　picture　box。
　Cohen　was　looking　at　the　seven　senior　wizards。
　'Funny　place　to　put　statues；'　he　said。　'No…one　can　see　them。　Mind　you；　I　can't　say　they're　up　to　much。　Very　poor　work。'
　Rincewind　staggered　across　and　tapped　Wert　gingerly　on　the　chest。　He　was　solid　stone。
　This　is　it；　he　thought。　I　just　want　to　go　home。
　Hang　on；　I　am　home。　More　or　less。　So　I　just　want　a　good　sleep；　and　perhaps　it　will　all　be　better　in　the　morning。
　His　gaze　fell　on　the　Octavo；　which　was　outlined　in　tiny　flashes　of　octarine　fire。　Oh　yes；　he　thought。
　He　picked　it　up　and　thumbed　idly　through　its　pages。　They　were　thick　with　plex　and　swirling　script　that　changed　and　reformed　even　as　he　looked　at　it。　It　seemed　undecided　as　to　what　it　should　be；　one　moment　it　was　an　orderly；　matter…of…fact　printing；　the　next　a　series　of　angular　runes。　Then　it　would　be　curly　Kythian　spellscript。　Then　it　would　be　pictograms　in　some　ancient；　evil　and　forgotten　writing　that　seemed　to　consist　exclusively　of　unpleasant　reptilian　beings　doing　plicated　and　painful　things　to　one　another　。　。　。
　The　last　page　was　empty。　Rincewind　sighed；　and　looked　in　the　back　of　his　mind。　The　Spell　looked　back。
　He　had　dreamed　of　this　moment；　how　he　would　finally　evict　the　Spell　and　take　vacant　possession　of　his　own　head　and　learn　all　those　lesser　spells　which　had；　up　until　hen；　been　too　frightened　to　stay　in　his　mind。　Somehow　he　had　expected　it　to　be　far　more　exciting。
　Instead；　in　utter　exhaustion　and　in　a　mood　to　brook　no　argument；　he　stared　coldly　at　the　Spell　and　jerked　a　metaphorical　thumb　over　his　shoulder。　You。　Out。
　It　looked　for　a　moment　as　though　the　Spell　was　going　to　argue；　but　it　wisely　thought　better　of　it。
　There　was　a　tingling　sensation；　a　blue　flash　behind　his　eyes；　and　a　sudden　feeling　of　emptiness。
　When　he　looked　down　at　the　page　it　was　full　of　words。　They　were　runes　again。　He　was　glad　about　that；　the　reptilian　pictures　were　not　only　unspeakable　but　probably　unpronounceable　too；　and　reminded　him　of　things　he　would　have　great　difficulty　in　forgetting。
　He　looked　blankly　at　the　book　while　Twoflower　bustled　around　unheeded　and　Cohen　tried　in　vain　to　lever　the　rings　off　the　stone　wizards。
　He　had　to　do　something；　he　reminded　himself。　What　was　it；　now？
　He　opened　the　book　at　the　first　page　and　began　to　read；　his　lips　moving　and　his　forefinger　tracing　the　outline　of　each　letter。　As　he　mumbled　each　word　it　appeared　soundlessly　in　the　air　beside　him；　in　bright　colours　that　streamed　away　in　the　night　wind。　He　turned　over　the　page。
　Other　people　were　ing　up　the　steps　now　…　star　people；　citizens；　even　some　of　the　Patrician's　personal　guard。　A　couple　of　star　people　made　a　half…hearted　attempt　to　approach　Rincewind；　who　was　surrounded　now　by　a　rainbow　swirl　of　letters　and　took　absolutely　no　notice　of　them；　but　Cohen　drew　his　sword　and　looked　nonchalantly　at　them　and　they　thought　better　of　it。
　Silence　spread　out　from　Rincewind's　bent　form　like　ripples　in　a　puddle。　It　cascaded　down　the　tower　and　spread　out　through　the　milling　crowds　below；　flowed　over　the　walls；　gushed　darkly　through　the　city；　and　engulfed　the　lands　beyond。
　The　bulk　of　the　star　loomed　silently　over　the　Disc。　In　the　sky　around　it　the　new　moons　turned　slowly　and　noiselessly。
　The　only　sound　was　Rincewind's　hoarse　whispering　as　he　turned　page　after　page。
　'Isn't　this　exciting！'　said　Twoflower。　Cohen；　who　was　rolling　a　cigarette　from　the　tarry　remnants　of　its　ancestors；　looked　at　him　blankly；　paper　halfway　to　his　lips。
　'Isn't　what　exciting？'　he　said。
　'All　this　magic！'
　'It's　only　lights；'　said　Cohen　critically。　'He　hasn't　even　produced　doves　out　of　his　sleeves。'
　'Yes；　but　can't　you　sense　the　occult　potentiality？'　said　Twoflower。
　Cohen　produced　a　big　yellow　match　from　somewhere　in　his　tobacco　bag；　looked　at　Wert　for　a　moment；　and　with　great　deliberation　struck　the　match　on　his　fossilised　nose。
　'Look；'　he　said　to　Twoflower；　as　kindly　as　he　could　manage。　'What　do　you　expect？　I've　been　around　a　long　time；　I've　seen　the　whole　magical　thing；　and　I　can　tell　you　that　if　you　go　around　with　your　jaw　dropping　all　the　time　people　hit　it。　Anyway；　wizard's　die　just　like　anyone　else　when　you　stick　a　…'
　There　was　a　loud　snap　as　Rincewind　shut　the　book。　He　stood　up；　and　looked　around。
　What　happened　next　was　this：
　Nothing。
　It　took　a　little　while　for　people　to　realise　it。　Everyone　had　ducked　instinctively；　waiting　for　the　explosion　of　white　light　or　scintillating　fireball　or；　in　the　case　of　Cohen；　who　had　fairly　low　expectations；　a　few　white　pigeons；　possibly　a　slightly　crumpled　rabbit。
　It　wasn't　even　an　interesting　nothing。　Sometimes　things　can　fail　to　happen　in　quite　impressive　ways；　but　as　far　as　non…events　went　this　one　just　couldn't　pete。
　'Is　that　it？'　said　Cohen。　There　was　a　general　muttering　from　the　crowd；　and　several　of　the　star　people　were　looking　angrily　at　Rincewind。
　The　wizard　stared　Wearily　at　Cohen。
　'I　suppose　so；'　he　said。
　'But　nothing's　happened。'
　Rincewind　looked　blankly　at　the　Octavo。
　'Maybe　it　has　a　subtle　effect？'　he　said　hopefully。　'After　all；　we　don't　know　exactly　what　is　supposed　to　happen。'
　'We　knew　it！'　shouted　one　of　the　star　people。　'Magic　doesn't　work！　It's　all　illusion！'
　A　stone　looped　over　the　roof　and　hit　Rincewind　on　the　shoulder。
　'Yeah；'　said　another　star　person。　'Let's　get　him！'
　'Let's　throw　him　off　the　tower！'
　'Yeah；　let's　get　him　and　throw　him　off　the　tower！'
　The　crowd　surged　forward。　Twoflower　held　up　his　hands。
　'I'm　sure　there's　just　been　a　slight　mistake…'　he　beg