按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
In fact there was a general mutter of approval。
'Good idea。'
'Seems reasonable。'
'Get on with it； then。'
Slightly put out； he summoned a procession of lesser wizards who carried various magical implements into the hall。
It has already been hinted that around this time there was some disagreement among the fraternity of wizards about how to practise magic。
Younger wizards in particular went about saying that it was time that magic started to update its image and that they should all stop mucking about with bits of wax and bone and put the whole thing on a properly…organised basis； with research programmes and three…day conventions in good hotels where they could read papers with titles like 'Whither Geomancy？' and The role of Seven…League Boots in a caring society。'
Trymon； for example； hardly ever did any magic these days but ran the Order with hourglass efficiency and wrote lots of memos and had a big chart on his office wall； covered with coloured blobs and flags and lines that no…one else really understood but which looked very impressive。
The other type of wizard thought all this was so much marsh gas and wouldn't have anything to do with an image unless it was made of wax and had pins stuck in it。
The heads of the eight orders were all of this persuasion； traditionalists to a mage； and the utensils that were heaped around the octogram had a definite； no…nonsense occult look about them。 Rams horns； skulls； baroque metalwork and heavy candles were much in evidence； despite the discovery by younger wizards that the Rite of AshkEnte could perfectly well be performed with three small bits of wood and 4 cc of mouse blood。
The preparations normally took several hours； but the bined powers of the senior wizards shortened it considerably and； after a mere forty minutes； Galder chanted the final words of the spell。 They hung in front of him for a moment before dissolving。
The air in the centre of the octogram shimmered and thickened； and suddenly contained a tall； dark figure。
Most of it was hidden by a black robe and hood and this was probably just as well。 It held a long scythe in one hand and one couldn't help noticing that what should have been fingers were simply white bone。
The other skeletal hand held small cubes of cheese and pineapple on a stick。
WELL？ said Death； in a voice with all the warmth and colour of an iceberg。 He caught the wizards' gaze； and glanced down at the stick。
I WAS AT A PARTY； he added； a shade reproachfully。
'O Creature of Earth and Darkness； we do charge thee to abjure from…' began Galder in a firm； manding voice。 Death nodded。
YES； YES； I KNOW ALL THAT； he said。 WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME？
'It is said that you can see both the past and future；' said Galder a little sulkily； because the big speech of binding and conjuration was one he rather liked and people had said he was very good at it。
THAT IS ABSOLUTELY CORRECT。
Then perhaps you can tell us what exactly it was that happened this morning？' said Galder。 He pulled himself together； and added loudly； 'I mand this by Azimrothe； by T'chikel； by…'
ALL RIGHT； YOU'VE MADE YOUR POINT； said Death。 WHAT PRECISELY WAS IT YOU WISHED TO KNOW？ QUITE A LOT OF THINGS HAPPENED THIS MORNING； PEOPLE WERE BORN； PEOPLE DIED； ALL THE TREES GREW A BIT TALLER； RIPPLES MADE INTERESTING PATTERNS ON THE SEA…
'I mean about the Octavo；' said Galder coldly。
THAT？ OH； THAT WAS JUST A READJUSTMENT OF REALITY。 I UNDERSTAND THE OCTAVO WAS ANXIOUS NOT TO LOSE THE EIGHTH SPELL。 IT WAS DROPPING OFF THE DISC； APPARENTLY。
'Hold on； hold on；' said Galder。 He scratched his chin。 'Are we talking about the one inside the head of Rincewind？ Tall thin man； bit scraggy？ The one…'
…THAT HE HAS BEEN CARRYING AROUND ALL THESE YEARS； YES。
Galder frowned。 It seemed a lot of trouble to go to。 Everyone knew that when a wizard died all the spells in h：s head would go free； so why bother to save Rincewind？ The spell would just float back eventually。
Any idea why？' he said without thinking and then； remembering himself in time； added hastily； 'By Yrriph and Kcharla I do abjure thee and…'
I WISH YOU WOULDN'T KEEP DOING THAT； said Death； ALL THAT I KNOW IS THAT ALL THE SPELLS HAVE TO BE SAID TOGETHER NEXT HOGS…WATCHNIGHT OR THE DISC WILL BE DESTROYED。
'Speak up there！' demanded Greyhald Spold。
'Shut up！' said Galder。
ME？
'No； him。 Daft old…'
'I heard that！' snapped Spold； 'You young people…' He stopped。 Death was looking at him thoughtfully； as if he was trying to remember his face。
'Look；' said Galder； 'just repeat that bit again； will you？ The Disc will be what？'
DESTROYED； said Death。 CAN I GO NOW？ I LEFT MY DRINK。
'Hang on；' said Galder hurriedly。 'By Cheliliki and Orizone and so forth； what do you mean； destroyed？'
IT'S AN ANCIENT PROPHECY WRITTEN ON THE INNER WALLS OF THE GREAT PYRAMID OF TSORT。 THE WORD DESTROYED SEEMS QUITE SELF…EXPLANATORY TO ME。
'That's all you can tell us？'
YES。
'But Hogswatchnight is only two months away！'
YES。
'At least you can tell us where Rincewind is now！' Death shrugged。 It was a gesture he was particularly well built for。
THE FOREST OF SKUND； RIMWARDS OF THE RAMTOP MOUNTAINS。
What is he doing there？'
FEELING VERY SORRY FOR HIMSELF。
'Oh。'
NOW MAY I GO？
Galder nodded distractedly。 He had been thinking wistfully of the banishment ritual； which started 'Begone； foul shade' and had some rather impressive passages which he had been practising； but somehow he couldn't work up any enthusiasm。
'Oh； yes；' he said。 Thank you； yes。' And then； because it's as well not to make enemies even among the creatures of night； he added politely； 'I hope it is a good party。'
Death didn't answer。 He was looking at Spold in the same way that a dog looks at a bone； only in this case things were more or less the other way around。
'I said I hope it is a good party；' said Galder； loudly。
AT THE MOMENT IT IS； said Death levelly。 I THINK IT MIGHT GO DOWNHILL VERY QUICKLY AT MIDNIGHT。
'Why？'
THAT'S WHEN THEY THINK I'LL BE TAKING MY MASK OFF。
He vanished； leaving only a cocktail stick and a short paper streamer behind。
There had been an unseen observer of all this。 It was of course entirely against the rules； but Trymon knew all about rules and had always considered they were for making； not obeying。
Long before the eight mages had got down to some serious arguing about what the apparition had meant he was down in the main levels of the University library。
It was an awe…inspiring place。 Many of the books were magical； and the important thing to remember about grimoires is that they are deadly in the hands of any ibrarian who cares about order； because he's bound to stick them all on the same shelf。 This is not a good idea with books that tend to leak magic； because more than one or two of them together form a critical Black Mass。 On top of that； many of the lesser spells are quite particular about the pany they keep； and tend to express any objections by hurling their books viciously across the room。 And； of course； there is always the half…felt presence of the Things from the Dungeon Dimensions； clustering around the magical le