Book 1 - Page 28 (2/2)

“Would he leave that sort of thing around if it could hurt him?” Twoflower wondered aloud.

Rincewind ignored him and took up a position beside the door. When it opened some ten minutes later he moved unhesitatingly, swinging it across the opening at what he judged was the troll’s head height. It swished harmlessly through nothing at all and struck the doorpost, jerking him off his feet and on to the floor.

There was a sigh above him. He looked up into Tethis’ face, which was shaking sadly from side to side.

“It wouldn’t have harmed me,” said the troll, “but nevertheless, I am hurt. Deeply hurt.” He reached over the wizard and jerked the sword out of the wood. With no apparent effort he bent its blade into a circle and sent it bowling away over the rocks until it hit a stone and sprang, still spinning, in a silver arc that ended in the mists forming over the Rimfall.

“Very deeply hurt,” he concluded. He reached down beside the door and tossed a sack towards Twoflower.

“It’s the carca.s.s of a deer that is just about how you humans like it, and a few lobsters, and a sea salmon. The Circ.u.mfence provides,” he said casually.

He looked hard at the tourist, and then down again at Rincewind.

“What are you staring at?” he said.

“It’s just that-” said Twoflower.

“-compared to last night-” said Rincewind.

“You’re so small,” finished Twoflower.

“I see, said the troll carefully.”Personal remarks now.” He drew himself up to his full height, which was currently about four feet. “Just because I’m made of water doesn’t mean I’m made of wood, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” said Twoflower, climbing hastily out of the furs.

“You’re made of dirt,” said the troll,”but I didn’t pa.s.s comments about things you can’t help, did I? Oh, no. We can’t help the way the Creator made us, that’s my view, but if you must know, your moon here is rather more powerful than the ones around my own world.”

“The moon?” said Twoflower.”I don’t under-“

“If I’ve got to spell it out,” said the troll. testily, “I’m suffering from chronic tides.”

A bell jangled in the darkness of the shack. Tethis strode across the creaking floor to the complicated devices of levers, strings and bells that was mounted on the Circ.u.mfence’s topmost strand where it pa.s.sed through the hut.

The bell rang again, and then started to clang away in an odd jerky rhythm for several minutes. The troll stood with his ear pressed close to it.

When it stopped he turned slowly and looked at them with a worried frown.

“You’re more important than I thought,” he said.

“You’re not to wait for the salvage fleet. You’re to be collected by a flyer. That’s what they say in Krull.” He shrugged. “And I hadn’t even sent a message that you’re here, yet. Someone’s been drinking vul nut wine again.”

He picked up a large mallet that hung on a pillar beside the bell and used it to tap out a brief carillon.

“That’ll be pa.s.sed from lengthman to lengthman all the way back to Krull,” he said. “Marvellous really, isn’t it?”

It came speeding across the sea, floating a man-length above it, but still leaving a foaming wake as whatever power that held it up smacked brutally into the water. Rincewind knew what power held it up. He was, he would be the first to admit, a coward, an incompetent, and not even very good at being a failure; but he was still a wizard of sorts, he knew one of the Eight Great Spells, he would be claimed by Death himself when he died and he recognized really finely honed magic when he saw it.

The lens skimming towards the island was perhaps twenty feet across, and totally transparent. Sitting around its circ.u.mference were a large number of black-robed men, each one strapped securely to the disc by a leather harness and each one staring down at the waves with an expression so tormented, so agonising, that the transparent disc seemed to be ringed with gargoyles.

Rincewind sighed with relief. This was such an unusual sound that it made Twoflower take his eyes off the approaching disc and turn

them on him.

“We’re important, no lie,” explained Rincewind.

“They wouldn’t be wasting all that magic on a couple of potential slaves.” He grinned.

“What is it?” said Twoflower.

“Well, the disc itself would have been created by Fresnel’s Wonderful Concentrator,” said Rincewind, authoritatively. “That calls for many rare and unstable ingredients, such as demon’s breath and so forth, and it takes at least eight fourthgrade wizards a week to envision. Then there’s those wizards on it, who must all be gifted hydrophobes-“

“You mean they hate water?” said Twoflower.

“No, that wouldn’t work,” said Rincewind.”Hate is an attracting force, just like love. They really loathe it, the very idea of it revolts them. A really good hydrophobe has to be trained on dehydrated water from birth. I mean, that costs a fortune in magic alone. But they make great weather magicians. Rain clouds just give up and go away.”

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