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dark night and managed to get to the top of the walls before； to their horror； their nose plugs gave out。 Rich merchants who ave spent many years abroad sent back home for specially…stoppered and sealed bottles of the stuff； which brings tears to their eyes。
It has that kind of effect。
There is only really one way to describe the effect the smell of Ankh…Morpork has on the visiting nose； and that is by analogy。
Take a tartan。 Sprinkle it with confetti。 Light it with strobe lights。
Now take a chameleon。
Put the chameleon on the tartan。
Watch it closely。
See？
Which explains why； when the shop finally materialised in Ankh…Morpork； Rincewind sat bolt upright and said 'We're here；' Bethan went pale and Twoflower； who had no sense of smell； said； 'Really？ How can you tell？'
It had been a long afternoon。 They had broken into realspace in a number of walls in a variety of cities because； according to the shopkeeper； the Disc's magical field was playing up and upsetting everything。
All the cities were empty of most of their citizens and belonged to roaming gangs of crazed left…ear people。
'Where do they all e from？' said Twoflower； as they fled yet another mob。
'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。'
'That doesn't make sense；' said Bethan； 'or if it makes sense； I don't like it。' 。
The star was bigger than the sun。 There would be no night tonight。 On the opposite horizon the Disc's own sunlet was doing its best to set normally； but the general effect of all that red light was to make the city； never particularly beautiful； look like something painted by a fanatical artist after a bad time on the shoe polish。
But it was home。 Rincewind peered up and down the mpty street and felt almost happy。
At the back of his mind the Spell was kicking up a ruckus； but he ignored it。 Maybe it was true that magic was getting weaker as the star got nearer； or perhaps he'd had the Spell in his head for so long he had built up some kind of psychic immunity； but he found he could resist it。
'We're in the docks；' he declared。 'Just smell that sea air！'
'Oh；' said Bethan； leaning against the wall； 'yes。'
'That's ozone； that is；' said Rincewind。 That's air with character； is that。' He breathed deeply。
Twoflower turned to the shopkeeper。
'Well； I hope you find your sorcerer；' he said。 'Sorry we didn't buy anything； but all my money's in my Luggage； you see。'
The shopkeeper pushed something into his hand。
'A little gift；' he said。 'You'll need it。'
He darted back into his shop； the bell jangled； the sign saying Call Again Tomorrow For Spoonfetcher's Leeches； the Little Suckers banged forlornly against the door； and the shop faded into the brickwork as though it had never been。 Twoflower reached out gingerly and touched the wall； not quite believing it。
'What's in the bag？' said Rincewind。
It was a thick brown paper bag； with string handles。
'If it sprouts legs I don't want to know about it；' said Bethan。
Twoflower peered inside； and pulled out the contents。
Is that all？' said Rincewind。 'A little house with shells on？'
'It's very useful；' said Twoflower defensively。 'You can keep cigarettes in it。'
'And they're what you really need； are they？' said Rincewind。
'I'd plump for a bottle of really strong sun…tan oil；' said Bethan。
'e on；' said Rincewind； and set off down the street。 The others followed。
It occurred to Twoflower that some words of fort were called for； a little tactful small talk to take Bethan out f herself； as he would put it； and generally cheer her up。
'Don't worry；' he said。 There's just a chance that Cohen might still be alive。'
'Oh； I expect he's alive all right；' she said； stamping along the cobbles as if she nursed a personal grievance against each one of them。 'You don't live to be eighty…seven in his job if you go around dying all the time。 But he's not here。'
'Nor is my Luggage；' said Twoflower。 'Of course； that's not the same thing。'
'Do you think the star is going to hit the Disc？'
'No；' said Twoflower confidently。
'Why not？'
'Because Rincewind doesn't think so。'
She looked at him in amazement。
'You see；' the tourist went on； 'you know that thing you do with seaweed？'
Bethan； brought up on the Vortex Plains； had only heard of the sea in stories； and had decided she didn't like it。 She looked blank。
'Eat it？'
'No； what you do is； you hang it up outside your door； and it tells you if it's going to rain。'
Another thing Bethan had learned was that there was no real point in trying to understand anything Twoflower said； and that all anyone could do was run alongside the conversation and hope to jump on as it turned a corner。
'I see；' she said。
'Rincewind is like that； you see。'
'Like seaweed。'
'Yes。 If there was anything at all to be frightened about； he'd be frightened。 But he's not。 The star is just about the only thing I've ever seen him not frightened of。 If he's not worried； then take it from me； there's nothing to worry about。'
'It's not going to rain？' said Bethan。
'Well； no。 Metaphorically speaking。'
'Oh。' Bethan decided not to ask what 'metaphorically' meant； in case it was something to do with seaweed。
Rincewind turned around。
'e on；' he said。 'Not far now。'
'Where to？' said Twoflower。
'Unseen University； of course。'
'Is that wise？'
'Probably not； but I'm still going…' Rincewind paused； his face a mask of pain。 He put his hand to his ears and groaned。
'Spell giving you trouble？'
'Yargh。'
'Try humming。'
Rincewind grimaced。 'I'm going to get rid of this thing；' he said thickly。 'It's going back into the book where it belongs。 I want my head back！'
'But then…' Twoflower began； and stopped。 They could all hear it … a distant chanting and the stamping of many feet。
'Do you think it's star people？' said Bethan。
It was。 The lead marchers came around a corner a hundred yards away； behind a ragged white banner with an eight…pointed star on it。
'Not just star people；' said Twoflower。 'All kinds of people！'
The crowd swept them up in its passage。 One moment they were standing in the deserted street； the next they were perforce moving with a tide of humanity that bore them onwards through the city。
Torchlight flickered easily on the damp tunnels far under the University as the heads of the eight Orders of wizardry filed onwards。
'At least it's cool down here；' said one。
'We shouldn't be down here。'
Trymon； who was leading the party； said nothing。 But he was thinking very hard。 He was thinking about the ottle of oil in his belt； and the eight keys the wizards carried … eight keys that would fit the eight locks that chained the Octavo to its lectern。 He was thinking that old wizards who sense that magic is draining away are preoccupied with their own problems and are perhaps less alert than they should be。 He was thinking that within a few minutes the Octavo； the greatest concentration of magic on the Disc； would be under his hands。
Despite the coolness of the tunnel he began to sweat。
They