tp.lightfantastic-第7章

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　trying　to　avoid　Rincewind's　glare。
　'…　and　anyway　you　couldn't　take　it　with　you；　I　mean；　you　could　hardly　pack　it　in　the　Luggage；　could　you？'　Rincewind　indicated　the　Luggage；　which　was　lying　by　the　fire　and　managing　in　some　quite　impossible　way　to　look　like　a　contented　but　alert　tiger；　and　then　looked　back　at　Twoflower。　His　face　fell。
　'Could　you？'　he　repeated。
　He　had　never　quite　e　to　terms　with　the　fact　that　the　inside　of　the　Luggage　didn't　seem　to　inhabit　quite　the　same　world　as　the　outside。　Of　course；　this　was　simply　a　byproduct　of　its　essential　weirdness；　but　it　was　disconcerting　to　see　Twoflower　fill　it　full　of　dirty　shirts　and　old　socks　and　then　open　the　lid　again　on　a　pile　of　nice　crisp　laundry；　smelling　faintly　of　lavender。　Twoflower　also　bought　a　lot　of　quaint　native　artifacts　or；　as　Rincewind　would　put　it；　junk；　and　even　a　seven…foot　ceremonial　pig　tickling　pole　seemed　to　fit　inside　quite　easily　without　sticking　out　anywhere。
　'I　don't　know；'　said　Twoflower。　'You're　a　wizard；　you　know　about　these　things。'
　'Yes；　well；　of　course；　but　baggage　magic　is　a　highly　specialised　art；'　said　Rincewind。　'Anyway；　I'm　sure　the　gnomes　wouldn't　really　want　to　sell　it；　it's；　it's…；'　he　groped　through　what　he　knew　of　Twoflower's　mad　vocabulary　…　'it's　a　tourist　attraction。'
　'What's　that？'　said　Swires；　interestedly。
　'It　means　that　lots　of　people　like　him　will　e　and　look　at　it；'　said　Rincewind。
　'Why？'
　'Because…'　Rincewind　groped　for　words　…　'it's　quaint。　Urn；　oldey　worldey。　Folkloresque。　Er；　a　delightful　example　of　a　vanished　folk　art；　steeped　in　the　traditions　of　an　age　long　gone。'
　'It　is？'　said　Swires；　looking　at　the　cottage　in　bewilderment。
　'Yes。'
　'All　that？'
　'Fraid　so。'
　'I'll　help　you　pack。'
　And　the　night　wears　on；　under　a　blanket　of　lowering　clouds　which　covers　most　of　the　Disc　…　which　is　fortuitous；　because　when　it　clears　and　the　astrologers　get　a　good　view　of　the　sky　they　are　going　to　get　angry　and　upset。
　And　in　various　parts　of　the　forest　parties　of　wizards　are　getting　lost；　and　going　around　in　circles；　and　hiding　from　each　other；　and　getting　upset　because　whenever　they　bump　into　a　tree　it　apologises　to　them。　But；　unsteadily　though　it　may　be；　many　of　them　are　getting　quite　close　to　the　cottage　。　。　。
　Which　is　a　good　time　to　get　back　to　the　rambling　buildings　of　Unseen　University　and　in　particular　the　apartments　of　Greyhald　Spold；　currently　the　oldest　wizard　on　the　Disc　and　determined　to　keep　it　that　way。
　He　has　just　been　extremely　surprised　and　upset。
　For　the　last　few　hours　he　has　been　very　busy。　He　may　be　deaf　and　a　little　hard　of　thinking；　but　elderly　wizards　have　very　well…trained　survival　instincts；　and　they　know　that　when　a　tall　figure　in　a　black　robe　and　the　latest　in　agricultural　handtools　starts　looking　thoughtfully　at　you　it　is　time　to　act　fast。　The　servants　have　been　dismissed。　The　doorways　have　been　sealed　with　a　paste　made　from　powdered　mayflies；　and　protective　octograms　have　been　drawn　on　the　windows。　Rare　and　rather　smelly　oils　have　been　poured　in　plex　patterns　on　the　floor；　in　designs　which　hurt　the　eyes　and　suggest　the　designer　was　drunk　or　from　some　other　dimension　or；　possibly；　both；　in　the　very　centre　of　the　room　is　the　eightfold　octogram　of　Witholding；　surrounded　by　red　and　green　candles。　And　in　the　centre　of　that　is　a　box　made　from　wood　of　the　curly…fern　pine；　which　grows　to　a　great　age；　and　it　is　lined　with　red　silk　and　yet　more　protective　amulets。　Because　Greyhald　Spold　knows　that　Death　is　looking　for　him；　and　has　spent　many　years　designing　an　impregnable　hiding　place。
　He　has　just　set　the　plicated　clockwork　of　the　lock　and　shut　the　lid；　lying　back　in　the　knowledge　that　here　at　last　is　the　perfect　defence　against　the　most　ultimate　of　all　his　enemies；　although　as　yet　he　has　not　considered　the　important　part　that　airholes　must　play　in　an　enterprise　of　this　kind。
　And　right　beside　him；　very　close　to　his　ear；　a　voice　has　just　said：　DARK　IN　HERE；　ISN'T　IT？
　

　It　began　to　snow。　The　barleysugar　windows　of　the　cottage　showed　bright　and　cheerful　against　the　blackness。
　At　one　side　of　the　clearing　three　tiny　red　points　of　light…glowed　momentarily　and　there　was　the　sound　of　a　chesty　cough；　abruptly　silenced。
　'Shut　up！'　hissed　a　third　rank　wizard。　They'll　hear　us！'
　'Who　will？　We　gave　the　lads　from　the　Brotherhood　of　the　Hoodwink　the　slip　in　the　swamp；　and　those　idiots　from　the　Venerable　Council　of　Seers　went　off　the　wrong　way　anyway。'
　'Yeah；'　said　the　most　junior　wizard；　'but　who　keeps　talking　to　us？　They　say　this　is　a　magic　wood；　it's　full　of　goblins　and　wolves　and　…'
　'Trees；'　said　a　voice　out　of　the　darkness；　high　above。　It　possessed　what　can　only　be　described　as　timbre。
　'Yeah；'　said　the　youngest　wizard。　He　sucked　on　his　dogend；　and　shivered。
　The　leader　of　the　party　peered　over　the　rock　and　watched　the　cottage。
　'Right　then；'　he　said；　knocking　out　his　pipe　on　the　heel　of　his　seven　league　boot；　who　squeaked　in　protest。　'We　rush　in；　we　grab　them；　we're　away。　Okay？'
　'You　sure　it's　just　people？'　said　the　youngest　wizard；　nervously。
　'Of　course　I'm　sure；'　snarled　the　leader。　'What　do　you　expect；　three　bears？'
　'There　could　be　monsters。　This　is　the　sort　of　wood　that　45　has　monsters。'
　'And　trees；'　said　a　friendly　voice　from　the　branches。　'Yeah；'　said　the　leader；　cautiously。
　

　Rincewind　looked　carefully　at　the　bed。　It　was　quite　a　nice　little　bed；　in　a　sort　of　hard　toffee　inlaid　with　caramel；　but　he'd　rather　eat　it　than　sleep　in　it　and　it　looked　as　though　someone　already　had。
　'Someone's　been　eating　my　bed；'　he　said。
　'I　like　toffee；'　said　Twoflower　defensively。
　'If　you　don't　watch　out　the　fairy　will　e　and　take　all　your　teeth　away；'　said　Rincewind。
　'No；　that's　elves；'　said　Swires　from　the　dressing　table。　'Elves　do　that。　Toenails；　too。　Very　touchy　at　times；　elves　can　be。'
　Twoflower　sat　down　heavily　on　his　bed。
　'You've　got　it　wrong；'　he　said。　'Elves　are　noble　and　beautiful　and　wise　and　fair；　I'm　sure　I　read　that　somewhere。'
　Swires　and　Rincewind's　kneecap　exchanged　glances。
　'I　think　you　must　be　thinking　about　different　elves；'　the　gnome　said　slowly。　'We've　just　got　the　other　sort　around　here。　Not　that　you　could　call　them　quick…tempered；'　he　added　hastily。　'Not　if　you　didn't　want　to　take　your　teeth　home　in　your　hat；　anyway。'
　There　was　the　tiny；　distinctive　sound　of　a　nougat　door　opening。　At　the　same　time；　from　the　other　side　of　the　cottage；　came　the　faintest　of　tinkles；　like　a　rock　smashing　a　barley　sugar　window　as　delicately　as　possible。
　'What　was　that？'　said　Twoflower。
　'Which　one？'　said　Rincewind。
　There　was　the　clonk　of　a　heavy　branch　banging　against　the　window　sill。　With　a　cry　of　'Elves！'　Swires　scuttled　across　the　floor　to　a　mousehole　and　vanished。
　'What　shall　we　do？'　said　Twoflower。
　'Panic？'　said　Rincewind　hopefully。　He　always　held　that　panic　was　the　best　means　of　survival；　back　in　the　olden　days；　his　theory　went；　people　faced　with　hungry　sabre…toothed　tigers　could　be　divided　very　simply　into　those　who　panicked　and　those　who　stood　there　saying　'What　a　magnificent　brute！'　and　'Here；　pussy。'
　'There's　a　cupboard；'　said　Twoflower；　pointing　to　a　narrow　door　that　was　squeezed　between　the　wall　and　the　chimneybreast。　They　scrambled　into　sweet；　musty　darkness。
　There　was　the　creak　of　a　chocolate　floorboard　outside。　Someone　said　'I　heard　voices。'
　Someone　else　said；　'Yeah；　downstairs。　I　think　it's　the　Hood　winkers。'
　'I　thought　you　said　we'd　given　them　the　slip！'
　'Hey；　you　two；　you　can　eat　this　place！　Here；　look　you　can　…'
　'Shut　up！'
　There　was　a　lot　more　creaking；　and　a　muffled　scream　from　downstairs　where　a　Venerable　Seer；　creeping　carefully　through　the　darkness　from　the　broken　window；　had　trodden　on　the　fingers　of　a　Hoodwinker　who　was　hiding　under　the　table。　There　was　the　sudden　zip　and　zing　of　magic。
　'Bugger！'said　a　voice　outside。　They've　got　him！　Let's　go！'
　There　was　more　creaking；　and　then　silence。　After　a　while　Twoflower　said；　'Rincewind；　I　think　there's　a　broomstick　in　this　cupboard。'
　Well；　what's　so　unusual　about　that？'
　This　one's　got　handlebars。'
　There　was　a　piercing　shriek　from　below。　In　the　darkness　a　wizard　had　tried　to　open　the　Luggage's　lid。　A　crash　from　the　scullery　indicated　the　sudden　arrival　of　a　party　of　Illuminated　Mages　of　the　Unbroken　Circle。
　'What　do　you　think　they're　after？'　whispered　Twoflower。
　'I　don't　know；　but　I　think　it　might　be　a　good　idea　not　to　find　out；'　said　Rincewind　thoughtfully。
　'You　could　be　right。'
　Rincewind　pushed　open　the　door　gingerly。　The　room　was　empty。　He　tiptoed　across　to　the　window；　and　looked　own　into　the　upturned　faces　of　three　Brothers　of　the　Order　of　Midnight。
　'That's　him！'
　He　drew　back　hurriedly　and　rushed　for　the　stairs。
　The　scene　below　was　indescribable　but　since　that　statement　would　earn　the　death　penalty　in　the　reign　of　Olaf　Quimby　II　the　attempt　better　be　made。　Firstly；　most　of　the　struggling　wizards　were　trying　to　illuminate　the　scene　by　various　flames；　fireballs　and　magical　glows；　so　the　overall　lighting　gave　the　impression　of　a　disco　in　a　strobelight　factory；　each　man　was　trying　to　find　a　position　from　which　he　could　see　the　rest　of　the　room　without　being　attacked　himself；　and　absolutely　everyone　was　trying　to　keep　out　of　the　way　of　the　Luggage；　which　had　two　Venerable　Seers　pinned　in　a　corner　and　was　snapping　its　lid　at　anyone　who　approached。　But　one　wizard　did　happen　to　look　up。
　'It's　him！'
　Rincewind　jerked　back；　and　something　bumped　into　him。　He　looked　around　hurriedly；　and　stared　when　he　saw　Twoflower　sitting　on　the　broomstick　…　which　was　floating　in　mid…air。
　'The　witch　must　have　left　it　behind！'　said　Twoflower。　'A　genuine　magic　broomstick！'
　Rincewind　hesitated。　Octarine　sparks　were　spitting　off　the　broomstick's　bristles　and　he　hated　heights　almost　more　than　anything　else；　but　what　he　really　hated　more　than　anything　at　all　was　a　dozen　very　angry　and　bad…tempered　wizards　rushing　up　the　stairs　towards　him；　and　this　was　happening。
　'All　right；'　he　said；　'but　I'll　drive。'
　He　lashed　out　with　a　boot　at　a　wizard　who　was　halfway　through　a　Spell　of　Binding　and　jumped　onto　the　broomstick；　which　bobbed　down　the　stairwell　and　then　turned　upside　down　so　that　Rincewind　was　horribly　eye　to　eye　with　a　Brother　of　Midnight。
　He　yelped　and　gave　the　handlebars　a　convulsive　twist。
　Several　things　happened　at　once。　The　broomstick　shot　orward　and　broke　through　the　wall　in　a　shower　of　crumbs：　the　Luggage　surged　forward　and　bit　the　Brother　in　the　leg：　and　with　a　strange　whistling　sound　an　arrow　appeared　from　nowhere；　missed　Rincewind　by　inches；　and　struck　the　Luggage's　lid　with　a　very　solid　thud。　The　Luggage　vanished。
　

　In　a　little　village　deep　in　the　forest　an　ancient　shaman　threw　a　few　more　twigs　on　his　fire　and　stared　through　the　smoke　at　his　shamefaced　apprentice。
　'A　box　with　legs　on？'　he　said。
　'Yes；　master。　It　just　appeared　out　of　the　sky　and　looked　at　me；'　said　the　apprentice。
　'It　had　eyes　then；　this　box？'
　'N…；'　began　the　apprentice　and　stopped；　puzzled。　The　old　man　frowned。
　'Many　have　seen　Topaxci；　God　of　the　Red　Mushroom；　and　they　earn　the　name　of　shaman；'　he　said。　'Some　have　seen　Skelde；　spirit　of　the　smoke；　and　they　are　called　sorcerers。　A　few　have　been　privileged　to　see