she read. ‘He’s going to die! It says, “One hundred and fifty per cent proof”!’
‘Nah, that’s just old Dibbler’s advertising,’ said Nobby. ‘It ain’t got no proof. Just circumstantial evidence.’
*
‘He only drinks when he gets depressed,’ said Carrot.
‘Why does he get depressed?’
‘Sometimes it’s because he hasn’t had a drink.’
*
‘I appear … to be losing a lot of blood,’ said Lord Vetinari.
‘Who would have thought you had it in you,’ said Vimes, with the frankness of those probably about to die.
‘Captain QuirkeT said Carrot. ‘But he’s … not a good choice.’
‘Mayonnaise Quirke, we used to call him,’ said Colon. ‘He’s a pillock.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Angua. ‘He’s rich, thick and oily, yes?’
‘And smells faintly of eggs,’ said Carrot.
It’s generally very quiet in the Unseen University library. There’s perhaps the shuffling of feet as wizards wander between the shelves, the occasional hacking cough to disturb the academic silence, and every once in a while a dying scream as an unwary student fails to treat an old magical book with the caution it deserves.
*
Carrot could lead armies, Angua thought. Some people have inspired whole countries to great deeds because of the power of their vision. And so could he. Not because he dreams about marching hordes, or world domination, or an empire of a thousand years. Just because he thinks that everyone’s really decent underneath and would get along just fine if only they made the effort, and he believes that so strongly it burns like a flame which is bigger than he is. He’s got a dream and we’re all part of it, so that it shapes the world around him. And the weird thing is that no one wants to disappoint him. It’d be like kicking the biggest puppy in the universe. It’s a kind of magic.
*
‘Captain Vimes always told me, sir, that there’s big crimes and little crimes. Sometimes the little crimes look big and the big crimes you can hardly see, but the crucial thing is to decide which is which.’
*
Foul Ole Ron was a Beggars’ Guild member in good standing. He was a Mutterer, and a good one. He would walk behind people muttering in his own private language until they gave him money not to. People thought he was mad, but this was not, technically, the case. It was just that he was in touch with reality on the cosmic level, and had a bit of trouble focusing on things smaller, like other people, walls and soap (although on very small things, such as coins, his eyesight was Grade A).
‘You can really talk?’ said Carrot. Gaspode rolled his eyes. ‘ ’Course not,’ he said.
‘Who are you?’ said the Patrician.
‘Corporal Nobbs, sir!’ said Nobby, saluting.
‘Do we employ you?’
‘Yessir!’
‘Ah. You’re the dwarf, are you?’
‘Nosir. That was the late Cuddy, sir! I’m one of the human beings, sir!’
You’re not employed as the result of any … special hiring procedures?’
‘Nosir,’ said Nobby, proudly.
‘My word.’
*
The Patrician steepled his fingers and looked at Carrot over the top of them. It was a mannerism that had unnerved many.
† From the point of view of the species as a whole. Not from the point of view of the dragon now landing in small pieces around the landscape.
OTHER children got given xylophones. Susan just had to ask her grandfather to take his vest off.
Yes. There’s a Death in the family.
It’s hard to grow up normally when Grandfather rides a white horse and wields a scythe - especially when you have to take over the family business, and everyone mistakes you for the Tooth Fairy. And especially when you have to face the new and addictive music that has entered the Discworld.
It’s lawless. It changes people.
It’s called Music With Rocks In.
It’s got a beat and you can dance to it, but…
It’s alive.
And it won’t fade away.
It was raining in the small, mountainous country of Llamedos. It was always raining in Llamedos. Rain was the country’s main export. It had rain mines.
People came to Ankh-Morpork to seek their fortune.
Unfortunately, other people sought it too.
Lord Vetinari had encouraged the growth of the Guilds. They were the big wheels on which the clockwork of a well-regulated city ran. A drop of oil here … a spoke inserted there, of course … and by and large it all worked.
*
It looked the kind of musical instrument emporium which doubles as a pawnshop, since every musician has at some time in his life to hand over his instrument if he wants to eat and sleep indoors.
*
‘We haven’t even practised together properly,’ said Imp.
‘We’ll