Colour of Magic, The Page #7

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I just wonder if you'd reconsider,

for a moment, the idea of sacrifice.

Tell me what that other idiot is doing

or you is a dead man.

You see, you can't bring her back.

With the blood and the white dress.

His name is Twoflower

and he's not from these parts.

Doesn't look like it.

Now, what I'm looking for

is the box full of treasure with the legs.

And leave...

Come here.

Oh, hello.

Star. Star.

Oh, look, it's getting bigger.

You ever done this sort of thing before?

What sort of thing?

Rushed into a temple, killed the priests,

stolen the gold and rescued the girl?

Um, not in so many words, no.

You do it like this.

Let's go.

It's all right.

Bloody well isn't.

Why do people always go

and spoil things?

You've just been saved

from absolutely certain death.

It's not easy around here,

you know. I mean,

keeping yourself... I mean, staying...

I mean, not letting myself...

Not losing your qualifications!

Oualifications?

I could have been up there with the

moon goddess by now, drinking mead

out of a silver bowl. Eight years of

staying home on Saturday nights

just right down the drain!

Oh. Well.

Where am I now?

You're dreaming.

Can I wake up, please?

No. You have a very important

task ahead of you.

Oh, good.

Rincewind!

Rincewind? Are you in there?

There's not even a flesh wound.

Rincewind!

Can you hear me, Rincewind?

What's up with the girl?

She won't let us rescue her.

Bugger that.

No!

Don't just lie there, you daft cow,

help me up.

Are you sure you can't hear

me in there, Rincewind?

Rincewind? Rincewind!

Many years ago, we arranged for

one of our number to hide in your head.

Who are we, exactly?

We are the seven spells,

and our task is to see that

nothing dreadfuI

happens to the eighth, Rincewind.

It is most important

that you don't

let the wizards take the spell from you.

All eight spells must be

said at the right time

or terrible things will happen.

And they mustn't be said

by the wrong people.

The wizards.

Precisely.

Am I in the Octavo?

In certain

metaphysicaI respects, yes.

Why are you screaming?

Yes, why are you screaming?

I'm inside a bloody book,

talking to voices I can't see,

and you ask me why I'm screaming?

It is very important you safeguard

the spell in your head

and bring it back to us at

the University in time for the Solstice,

so when the moment is precisely

right, we can be said.

Why should anyone want to say you?

It's the star. You see, the turtle

is heading towards it because...

No, no, no! Stop, stop, stop, stop.

Stop! You've totally ruined my life,

you do realise that, don't you?

I could have really made it as

a wizard if you hadn't used me

as a portable spell book.

I can't remember any other spells

because they're all too frightened

to be in the same head as you.

Look at it like this, then,

as soon as the spell is said,

- you'll be rid of it.

And us. Forever.

When's the Solstice?

Hey.

Oh, er, two days time, I think.

Right.

We've got to go. Right now.

Won't the Druids be celebrating

the Solstice here?

Probably not.

Well, are you sure?

'Cause I'd really like to stay here.

Yes.

But Ankh-Morpork is the place to be

on Solstice.

Well, Rincewind, if we're not gonna be...

Oh, to feel the cobbles under your feet

and the old familiar smell of the cesspits.

They're at their very best this time of year.

- The place that I feel I really...

- I want to take you home.

Home to the potatoes they sell

at the fried fish stall,

at the junction of

the Street of Cunning Artifices

and Midden Street.

Yeah, potatoes, but, Rincewind,

this was a lovely fight,

but what I really wanna see is

the Temple at Bel-Shamharoth.

Potatoes, I hear you calling.

What did you say?

I want to see

the Temple of Bel-Shamharoth.

Not the home of the giant terrifying spider

from which no one has ever returned alive?

That's the one.

Oh. Right.

Ah! Of course,

the River Smarl runs right past it.

- Well, that settles it, then.

- On our way to the Solstice celebrations

- at Ankh-Morpork.

- I can hear the potatoes calling.

Oh.

Right.

Shut up.

I don't like the sound of that.

What shall we do?

Um... Panic?

Oh. That's him!

Wizards. Panic!

Have they come to celebrate the Solstice?

Ouick, in there.

WIZARD:
Rincewind!

Hey, they know you.

We've got you surrounded.

Come back with us to

see Arch Chancellor Trymon,

and everything will be all right.

You have his word.

- It's nice they want you back.

- No, it isn't. Even by wizards' standards,

Trymon is a nasty piece of work.

Now, we can do this the easy way

or we can do this the very easy way.

What's the easy way?

You come out not covered

in burning leaf mould.

RINCEWIND:
What's the very easy way?

We set fire to the sacrificial pyre.

With you in it.

- How do you think it'll end?

- Well,

if that star is an omen,

it looks like we're all going to die.

- We should name it now, then.

- Might as well.

How about the Death Star?

Oh, don't be daft, what sort of name

is that? The Death Star?

Who cast a spell?

You didn't see that Trymon

out there, did you?

Trymon, no, why?

Well, for a minute there,

I thought we were in trouble.

Oh.

Rincewind, look out!

A little bit earlier would have been nice.

Oh, Twoflower! Twoflower!

All wizards must die!

If the wizards can't get rid of the star,

they should cease all magic

and commit suicide in good order.

If they're going to be like that,

personally, I'd let them burn.

All wizards must die!

The fact is, the star is getting bigger.

And without Rincewind's spell,

there's nothing we can do about it.

- I looked in the Mirror of Oversight.

- I used the Runes of M'haw.

May I make it clear that I tried

both the Runes and the Mirror

- and the entrails of a manicreach.

- Any good?

- So nobody knows where he is now?

- No.

In times of crisis, one must be wise.

And wise men do what the times demand.

All wizards must die! All wizards

must die! All wizards must die!

Twoflower, Twoflower. Come on, wake up.

We've got to go.

All right, if that's the way you want it.

- Let me rest me back.

- RINCEWIND:
Twoflower.

Wakey-wakey. Come along, lad.

There's some liniment stuff in the

saddlebag, if you wouldn't mind.

Who are you?

Cohen is me name.

Cohen the Barbarian?

The very same.

Oh, hang on, hang on.

Cohen is a great big chap, built like a bull.

Chest muscles like a sack of footballs.

He's the Disc's greatest warrior!

He's a legend in his own lifetime.

My grandfather

used to tell me...

Yes.

That's right, boy.

I'm a lifetime in me own legend.

You were the greatest.

Bards still sing songs about you.

I never get any royalties.

That's the saga of my life.

and what have I got to show for it?

Back ache, piles, bad digestion

and a hundred different recipes for shoop.

Shoop. I hate shoop.

- Shoop.

- Soup.

It's me teeth, you see.

No one takes you seriously

when you've got no teeth.

They say, "Sit by the fire,

Granddad, and have some shoop. "

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