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 Which way is the University? said Bethan.
 This way! said Rincewind, pointing along the street.
 It must be very popular. That s where everyone s going.
 I wonder why? said Twoflower.
 Somehow, said Rincewind,  I don t think it s to enroll for evening classes.
In fact Unseen University was under siege, or at least those parts of it that ex-
truded into the usual, everyday dimensions were under siege. The crowds outside
its gates were, generally, making one of two demands. They were demanding that
either a) the wizards should stop messing about and get rid of the star or, and this
was the demand favoured by the star people, that b) they should cease all magic
and commit suicide in good order, thus ridding the Disc of the curse of magic and
warding off the terrible threat in the sky.
The wizards on the other side of the walls had no idea how to do a) and no
intention of doing b) and many had in fact plumped for c), which largely consisted
of nipping out of hidden side doors and having it away on their toes as far as
possible, if not faster.
What reliable magic still remained in the University was being channelled
into keeping the great gates secure. The wizards were learning that while it was
all very fine and impressive to have a set of gates that were locked by magic, it
ought to have occurred to the builders to include some sort of emergency back-up
device such as, for example, a pair of ordinary, unimpressive stout iron bolts.
In the square outside the gates several large bonfires had been lit, for effect as
much as anything else, because the heat from the star was scorching.
 But you can still see the stars, said Twoflower,  the ther stars, I mean. The
little ones. In a black sky.
Rincewind ignored him. He was looking at the gates. A group of star people
and citizens were trying to batter them down.
 It s hopeless, said Bethan.  We ll never get in. Where are you going?
 For a walk, said Rincewind. He was setting off determinedly down a side
street.
There were one or two freelance rioters here, mostly engaged in wrecking
shops. Rincewind took no notice, but followed the wall until it ran parallel to a
dark alley that had the usual unfortunate smell of all alleys, everywhere.
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Then he started looking very closely at the stonework. The wall here was
twenty feet high, and topped with cruel metal spikes.
 I need a knife, he said.
 You re going to cut your way through? said Bethan.
 Just find me a knife, said Rincewind. He started to tap stones.
Twoflower and Bethan looked at each other, and shrugged. A few minutes
later they returned with a selection of knives, and Twoflower had even managed
to find a sword.
 We just helped ourselves, said Bethan.
 But we left some money, said Twoflower.  I mean, we would have left some
money, if we d had any  
 So he insisted on writing a note, said Bethan wearily.
Twoflower drew himself up to his full height, which was hardly worth it.
 I see no reason  he began, stiffly.
 Yes, yes, said Bethan, sitting down glumly.  I know you don t. Rincewind,
all the shops have been smashed open, there was a whole bunch of people across
the street helping themselves to musical instruments, can you believe that?
 Yeah, said Rincewind, picking up a knife and testing its blade thoughtfully.
 Luters, I expect.
He thrust the blade into the wall, twisted it, and stepped ack as a heavy stone
fell out. He looked up, counting under his breath, and levered another stone from
its socket.
 How did you do that? said Twoflower.
 Just give me a leg up, will you? said Rincewind. A moment later, his feet
wedged into the holes he had created, he was making further steps halfway up the
wall.
 It s been like this for centuries, his voice floated down.  Some of the stones
haven t got any mOrtar. Secret entrance, see? Watch out below.
Another stone cracked into the cobbles.
 Students made it long ago, said Rincewind.  Handy way in and out after
lights out.
 Ah, said Twoflower,  I understand. Over the wall and out to brightly-lit
tavernas to drink and sing and recite poetry, yes?
 Nearly right except for the singing and the poetry, yes, said Rincewind.  A
couple of these spikes should be loose  There was a clang.
 There s not much of a drop this side, came his voice after a few seconds.
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 Come on, then. If you re coming.
And so it was that Rincewind, Twoflower and Bethan entered Unseen Univer-
sity.
Elsewhere on the campus
The eight wizards inserted their keys and, with many a worried glance at one
another, turned them. There was a faint little snicking sound as the lock slid open.
The Octavo was unchained. A faint octarine light played across its bindings.
Trymon reached out and picked it up, and none of the others objected. His
arm tingled.
He turned towards the door.
 Now to the Great Hall, brothers, he said,  if I may lead the way  
And there were no objections.
He reached the door with the book tucked under his rm. It felt hot, and some-
how prickly.
At every step he expected a cry, a protest, and none came. He had to use every
ounce of control to stop himself from laughing. It was easier than he could have
imagined.
The others were halfway across the claustrophobic dungeon by the time he
was through the door, and perhaps they had noticed something in the set of his
shoulders, but it was too late because he had crossed the threshold, gripped the
handle, slammed the door, turned the key, smiled the smile.
He walked easily back along the corridor, ignoring the enraged screams of the
wizards who had just discovered how impossible it is to pass spells in a room built
to be impervious to magic.
The Octavo squirmed, but Trymon held it tightly. Now he ran, putting out of
his mind the horrible sensations under his arm as the book shape-changed into
things hairy, skeletal and spiky. His hand went numb. The faint chittering noises
he had been hearing grew in volume, and there were other sounds behind them
 leering sounds, beckoning sounds, sounds made by the voices of unimaginable
horrors that Trymon found it all too easy to imagine. As he ran across the Great
Hall and up the main staircase the shadows began to move and reform and close in
around him, and he also became aware that something was following, something
with skittery legs moving obscenely fast. Ice formed on the walls. Doorways
lunged at him as he barrelled past. Underfoot the stairs began to feel just like a
tongue. . . [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]