Light Fantastic

Anyway, wizard’s die just like anyone else when you stick a

But the grey world behind those empty eyes would trample and destroy without even according its victims the dignity of hatred. It wouldn’t even notice them.

Trymon was looking at him. Something was looking at him. And still the others hadn’t noticed. Could he even explain it? Trymon looked the same as he had always done, except for the eyes, and a slight sheen to his skin.

All they really needed to enter was one head.

His eyes were empty holes.

I just managed to go around with one of the Great Spells in my head for years without going totally insane, didn’t I?’

Inside every sane person there’s a madman struggling to get out,’ said the shopkeeper. ‘That’s what I’ve always thought. No one goes mad quicker than a totally sane person.’

You told me it was the only city that actually started out decadent.’

All these theories, diverse as they are, have two things in common. They explain the observed facts, and they are completely and utterly wrong.

It’s magical. I can’t help it. The bloody door hasn’t been and gone again, has it?’

‘Yes, and we’re not happy about that thing in the ceiling.’

‘I think I would like to kill someone,’ said Cohen, still smiling.

‘The star directs that the Disc must be cleansed,’ said the man, backing away.

‘Stars can’t talk,’ said Cohen, drawing his sword.

‘If you kill me a thousand will take my place,’ said the man, who was now backed against the wall.

‘Yes,’ said Cohen, in a reasonable tone of voice, ‘but that isn’t the point, is it? The point is, you’ll be dead.’

Cohen had heard of fighting fair, and had long ago decided he wanted no part of it.

He raised his hands in the classic pose he’d learned years before, and rasped, ‘Stand back! Or I’ll fill you full of magic!’

‘The magic has faded,’ said the man. ‘The star has taken it away. All the false wizards said their funny words and then nothing happened and they looked at their hands in horror and very few of them, in fact, had the sense to run away.’

THE DEATH OF THE WARRIOR OR THE OLD MAN OR THE LITTLE CHILD, THIS I UNDERSTAND, AND I TAKE AWAY THE PAIN AND END THE SUFFERING. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS DEATH-OF-THE-MIND.

The voice didn’t believe in gods, which in Rincewind’s book was fair enough, but it didn’t believe in people either.

Rincewind listened in mounting horror. Where were the gods? said the man. They had gone. Perhaps they had never been. Who, actually, could remember seeing them? And now the star had been sent—

It went on and on, a quiet, clear voice that used words like ‘cleanse’ and ‘scouring’ and ‘purify’ and drilled into the brain like a hot sword. Where were the wizards? Where was magic? Had it ever really worked, or had it all been a dream?

Almost every door was painted with a large red star.

‘It’s creepy,’ said Bethan. ‘As if people wanted to bring the star here.’

‘Or keep it away,’ said Twoflower.

It’s a shuprishe.’

‘I could do with a new dress, too,’ said Bethan.

‘I’ll shteal you one.’

‘They say that it’ll hit us on Hogswatchnight and the seas will boil and the countries of the Disc will be broken and kings will be brought down and the cities will be as lakes of glass,’ said the man. ‘I’m off to the mountains.’

‘That’ll help, will it?’ said Rincewind doubtfully.

‘No, but the view will be better.’

Rincewind would be the first to call himself a rat, but even rats fight in a corner.

and even less of a fighter, but he was an expert at cowardice and he knew fear when he smelt it. He said, quietly, ‘It’ll follow you, you know.’

‘What?’ said Weems, distractedly. He was still peering at the grass.

‘It’s very patient and it never gives up.