|The Colour of Magic||
There were a few seconds of total silence as everyone waited to see what would happen next. And then Nijel uttered the battle cry that Rincewind would never quite forget to the end of his life. "Erm," he said, "excuse me..."
Of course, Ankh-Morpork's citizens had always claimed that the river water was incredibly pure. Any water that had passed through so many kidneys, they reasoned, had to be very pure indeed.
“It's going to look pretty good, then, isn't it," said War testily, "the One Horseman and Three Pedestrians of the Apocralypse."
"I'm not going to ride on a magic carpet!" he hissed. "I'm afraid of grounds." "You mean heights," said Conina. "And stop being silly." "I know what I mean! It's the grounds that kill you!"
The point about being killed by magic was that it was much more inventive than, say, steel; there were all sorts of interesting new ways to die, and he couldn't put out of his mind the shapes he'd seen, just for an instant, before the wash of octarine fire had mercifully engulfed them.
The truth isn't easily pinned to a page. In the bathtub of history the truth is harder to hold than soap, and much more difficult to find...
In most old libraries the books are chained to the shelves to prevent them being damaged by people. In the library of the Unseen University, of course, it's more or less the other way about.
"So they'll kill you, it's not the end of the world."
"It will be for me," thought Rincewind, grimly.
.....Rincewind quit the University with all the other insects and small frightened rodents and decided that if a few quiet beers wouldn't allow him to see things in a different light, then a few more probably would.
It was said that everything in Ankh-Morpork was for sale except for the beer and the women, both of which one merely hired.
"Psst," it said.
"Not very," said Rincewind, who was in a state of mind where he couldn't resist it, "but I'm working on it."
"If we get a chance," whispered Rincewind to Nijel, "we run, right?"
"From," said Rincewind, "the important word is from."
After that one thing sort of led to another and pretty soon everyone was fighting to get something -- either away, out or even.
The Drum jealously guarded its reputation as the most stylishly disreputable tavern in Ankh-Morpork and the big troll that now guarded the door carefully vetted customers for suitability in the way of black cloaks, glowing eyes, magic swords and so forth. Rincewind never found out what he did to the failures. Perhaps he ate them.
Silence filled the University in the same way that air fills a hole. Night spread across the Disk like plum jam, or possibly blackberry preserve.
|The Light Fantastic|
|Lords and Ladies|
|Men at Arms|
|Feet of clay|
|The last continent|
|The fifth elephant|
|Thief of time|
|The last hero|
|The wee free men|
|A hat full of sky|