clouds.
Octarine fire flashed from under his fingernails. It wrapped itself around the horrified man until he was lost in a cold, spitting cloud that rose above the street, hung there for a long moment, and then exploded into nothingness.
There wasn’t even a wisp of greasy smoke.
Rincewind stared at his hand in horror.
Twoflower and Bethan each grabbed him by an arm and hustled him through the shocked crowd until they reached the open street. There was a painful moment as they each chose to run down a different alley, but they hurried on with Rincewind’s feet barely touching the cobbles.
‘Magic,’ he mumbled excitedly, drunk with power. ‘I did magic…’
‘That’s right,’ said Twoflower soothingly.
‘Would you like me to do a spell?’ said Rincewind. He pointed a finger at a passing dog and said ‘Wheeee!’ It gave him a hurt look.
‘Making your feet run a lot faster’d be favourite,’ said Bethan grimly.
‘Sure!’ slurred Rincewind. ‘Feet! Run faster! Hey, look, they’re doing it!’
‘They’ve got more sense than you,’ said Bethan. ‘Which way now?’
Twoflower peered at the maze of alleyways around them. There was a lot of shouting going on, some way off.
Rincewind lurched out of their grasp, and tottered uncertainly down the nearest alley.
‘I can do it!’ he shouted wildly. ‘Just you all watch out—’
‘He’s in shock,’ said Twoflower.
‘Why?’
‘He’s never done a spell before.’
‘But he’s a wizard!’
‘It’s all a bit complicated,’ said Twoflower, running after Rincewind. ‘Anyway, I’m not sure that was actually him. It certainly didn’t sound like him. Come along, old fellow.’
Rincewind looked at him with wild, unseeing eyes.
‘I’ll turn
‘Yes, yes, jolly good. Just come along,’ said Twoflower soothingly, pulling gently at his arm.
There was a pattering of feet from several alleyways and suddenly a dozen star people were advancing on them.
Bethan grabbed Rincewind’s limp hand and held it up threateningly.
‘That’s far enough!’ she screamed.
‘Right!’ shouted Twoflower. ‘We’ve got a wizard and we’re not afraid to use him!’
‘I mean it!’ screamed Bethan, spinning Rincewind around by his arm, like a capstan.
‘Right! We’re heavily armed! What?’ said Twoflower.
‘I said, where’s the Luggage?’ hissed Bethan behind Rincewind’s back.
Twoflower looked around. The Luggage was missing.
Rincewind was having the desired effect on the star people, though. As his hand waved vaguely around they treated it like a rotary scythe and tried to hide behind one another.
‘Well, where’s it gone?’
‘How should I know?’ said Twoflower.
‘It’s
‘I often don’t know where my Luggage is, that’s what being a tourist is all about,’ said Twoflower. ‘Anyway, it often wanders off by itself. It’s probably best not to ask why.’
It began to dawn on the mob that nothing was actually happening, and that Rincewind was in no condition to hurl insults, let alone magical fire. They advanced, watching his hands cautiously.
Twoflower and Bethan backed away. Twoflower looked around.
‘Bethan?’
‘What?’ said Bethan, not taking her eyes off the advancing figures.
‘This is a dead end.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I think I know a brick wall when I see one,’ said Twoflower reproachfully.
‘That’s about it, then,’ said Bethan.
‘Do you think perhaps if I explain—?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
‘I don’t think these are the sort of people who listen to explanations,’ Bethan added.
Twoflower stared at them. He was, as has been mentioned, usually oblivious to personal danger. Against the whole of human experience Twoflower believed that if only people would talk to each other, have a few drinks, exchange pictures of their grandchildren, maybe take in a show or something, then everything could be sorted out. He also believed that people were basically good but sometimes had their bad days. What was coming down the street was having about the same effect on him as a gorilla in a glass factory.
There was the faintest of sounds behind him, not so much a sound in fact as a change in the texture of the air.
The faces in front of him gaped open, turned, and disappeared rapidly down the alley.
‘Eh?’ said Bethan, still propping up the now unconscious Rincewind.
Twoflower was looking the other way, at a big glass window full of strange wares, and a beaded doorway, and a large sign above it all which now said, after its characters had finished writhing into position:
‘Skillet, Wang, Yrxle!yt, Bunglestiff, Cwmlad and Patel’
‘Estblshd: various’
‘PURVEYORS’
The jeweller turned the gold slowly over the tiny anvil, tapping the last strangely-cut diamond into place.
‘From a troll’s tooth, you say?’ he muttered, squinting losely at his work.
‘Yesh,’ said Cohen, ‘and as I shay, you can have all the resht.’ He was fingering a tray of gold rings.
‘Very generous,’ murmured the jeweller, who was dwarvish and knew a good deal when he saw one. He sighed.
‘Not much work lately?’ said Cohen. He looked out through the tiny window and watched a group of empty- eyed people gathered on the other side of the narrow street.
‘Times are hard, yes.’
‘Who are all theshe guysh with the starsh painted on?’ said Cohen.
The dwarf jeweller didn’t look up.
‘Madmen,’ he said. ‘They say I should do no work because the star comes. I tell them stars have never hurt me, I wish I could say the same about people.’
Cohen nodded thoughtfully as six men detached themselves from the group and came towards the shop. They were carrying an assortment of weapons, and had a driven, determined look about them.
‘Strange,’ said Cohen.
‘I am, as you can see, of the dwarvish persuasion,’ said the jeweller. ‘One of the magical races, it is said. The star people believe that the star will not destroy the Disc if we turn aside from magic. They’re probably going to beat me up a bit. So it goes.’
He held up his latest work in a pair of tweezers.
‘The strangest thing I have ever made,’ he said, ‘but practical, I can see that. What did you say they were called again?’
‘Din-chewersh,’ said Cohen. He looked at the horseshoe shapes nestling in the wrinkled palm of his hand, then opened his mouth and made a series of painful grunting noises.
The door burst open. The men strode in and took up positions around the walls. They were sweating and uncertain, but their leader pushed Cohen aside disdainfully and picked up the dwarf by his shirt.
