[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.It felt hot, and some-how prickly.At every step he expected a cry, a protest, and none came.He had to use everyounce of control to stop himself from laughing.It was easier than he could haveimagined.The others were halfway across the claustrophobic dungeon by the time hewas through the door, and perhaps they had noticed something in the set of hisshoulders, but it was too late because he had crossed the threshold, gripped thehandle, slammed the door, turned the key, smiled the smile.He walked easily back along the corridor, ignoring the enraged screams of thewizards who had just discovered how impossible it is to pass spells in a room builtto be impervious to magic.The Octavo squirmed, but Trymon held it tightly.Now he ran, putting out ofhis mind the horrible sensations under his arm as the book shape-changed intothings hairy, skeletal and spiky.His hand went numb.The faint chittering noiseshe had been hearing grew in volume, and there were other sounds behind them leering sounds, beckoning sounds, sounds made by the voices of unimaginablehorrors that Trymon found it all too easy to imagine.As he ran across the GreatHall and up the main staircase the shadows began to move and reform and close inaround him, and he also became aware that something was following, somethingwith skittery legs moving obscenely fast.Ice formed on the walls.Doorwayslunged at him as he barrelled past.Underfoot the stairs began to feel just like atongue.Not for nothing had Trymon spent long hours in the University s curiousequivalent of a gymnasium, building up mental muscle.Don t trust the senses,135he knew, because they can be deceived.The stairs are there, somewhere  willthem to be there, summon them into being as you climb and, boy, you better getgood at it.Because this isn t all imagination.Great A Tuin slowed.With flippers the size of continents the skyturtle fought the pull of the star, andwaited.There would not be long to wait.Rincewind sidled into the Great Hall.There were a few torches burning, andit looked as though it had been set up for some sort of magical work.But theceremonial candlesticks had been overturned, the complex octograms chalked onthe floor were scuffed as if something had danced on them, and the air was fullof a smell unpleasant even by Ankh-Morpork s broad standards.There was a hintof sulphur to it, but that underlay something worse.It smelt like the bottom of apond.There was a distant crash, and a lot of shouting. Looks like the gates have gone down, said Rincewind. Let s get out of here, said Bethan. The cellars are this way, said Rincewind, and set off through an arch. Down there! Yes.Would you rather stay here?He took a torch from its bracket on the wall and started down the steps.After a few flights the walls stopped being panelled and were bare stone.Hereand there heavy doors had been propped open. I heard something, said Twoflower.Rincewind listened.There did seem to be a noise coming from the depthsbelow.It didn t sound frightening.It sounded like a lot of people hammering ona door and shouting  Oi! It s not those Things from the Dungeon Dimensions you were telling us about,is it? said Bethan.They don t swear like that, said Rincewind. Come on.They hurried along the dripping passages, following the screamed curses anddeep hacking coughs that were somehow reassuring; anything that wheezed likethat, the listeners decided, couldn t possibly represent a danger.At last they came to a door set in an alcove.It looked strong enough to holdback the sea.There was a tiny grille.136 Hey! shouted Rincewind.It wasn t very useful, but he couldn t think ofanything better.There was a sudden silence.Then a voice from the other side of the door said,very slowly, Who is out there?Rincewind recognised that voice.It had jerked him from daydreams into terroron many a hot classroom afternoon, years before.It was Lemuel Panter, whohad once made it his personal business to hammer the rudiments of scrying andsummoning into young Rincewind s head.He remembered the eyes like gimletsin a piggy face and the voice saying  And now Mister Rincewind will come outhere and draw the relevant symbol on the board and the million mile walk past thewaiting class as he tried desperately to remember what the voice had been droningon about five minutes before.Even now his throat was going dry with terror andrandomised guilt.The Dungeon Dimensions just weren t in it. Please sir, it s me, sir, Rincewind, sir, he squeaked.He saw Twoflower andBethan staring at him, and coughed,  Yes, he added, in as deep a voice as he couldmanage.That s who it is.Rincewind.Right.There was a susurration of whispers on the other side of the door. Rincewind? Prince who? I remember a boy who wasn t any  The spell, remember? Rincewind?There was a pause.Then the voice said,  I suppose the key isn t in the lock, isit? No, said Rincewind. What did he say? He said no. Typical of the boy. Um, who is in there? said Rincewind. The Masters of Wizardry, said the voice, haughtily. Why?There was another pause, and then a conference of embarrassed whispers. We, uh, got locked in, said the voice, reluctantly. What, with the Octavo?Whisper, whisper. The Octavo, in fact, isn t in here, in fact, said the voice slowly. Oh.But you are? said Rincewind, as politely as possible while grinning likea necrophiliac in a morgue. That would appear to be the case. Is there anything we can get you? said Twoflower anxiously. You could try getting us out.137 Could we pick the lock? said Bethan. No use, said Rincewind. Totally thief-proof. I expect Cohen would have been able to, said Bethan loyally. Wherever he sgot to. The Luggage would soon smash it down, agreed Twoflower. Well, that s it then, said Bethan. Let s get out into the fresh air.Fresher air,anyway. She turned to walk away. Hang on, hang on, said Rincewind.That s just typical, isn t it? OldRincewind won t have any ideas, will he? Oh, no, he s just a makeweight, heis.Kick him as you pass.Don t rely on him, he s   All right, said Bethan. Let s hear it, then [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]