Reaper Man (Discworld 11) - Page 140

Windle was only vaguely aware of voices.

“Off you go, Dean. I know you’ve been looking forward to it.” That was the Archchancellor.

“Yo!”

“You’ll kill it totally? I don’t think we want it ending up at the Fresh Start Club. I don’t think it’s a joiner.” That was Reg Shoe.

“Oook.” That was the Librarian.

“Don’t you worry, Windle. The Dean is going to do something military, apparently,” said Ridcully.

“Yo! Hut!”

“Oh, good grief.”

Windle saw the Dean’s hand float past with something glittering in it.

“What are you going to use?” said Ridcully, as the trolley rocketed through the steam. “The Seismic Reorganizer, the Attractive Point or the Incendiary Surprise?”

“Yo,” said the Dean, with satisfaction.

“What, all three at once?”

“Yo!”

“That’s going a bit far, isn’t it? And incidentally, if you say ‘yo’ one more time, Dean, I will personally have you thrown out of the University, pursued to the rim of the world by the finest demons that thaumaturgy can conjure up, torn into extremely small pieces, minced, turned into a mixture reminiscent of steak tartare, and turned out into a dog bowl.”

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“Y—” The Dean caught Ridcully’s eyes. “Yes. Yes? Oh, go on, Archchancellor. What’s the good of having mastery over cosmic balance and knowing the secrets of fate if you can’t blow something up? Please? I’ve got them all ready. You know how it upsets the inventory if you don’t use them after you’ve got them ready—”

The trolley whirred up a trembling slope and cornered on two wheels.

“Oh, all right,” said Ridcully. “If it means that much to you.”

“Y—sorry.”

The Dean started to mutter urgently under his breath, and then screamed.

“I’ve gone blind!”

“Your bonsai bandage has slipped over your eyes, Dean.”

Windle groaned.

“How are you feeling, brother Poons?” Reg Shoe’s ravaged features occluded Windle’s view.

“Oh, you know,” said Windle. “Could be better, could be worse.”

The trolley ricocheted off a wall and jerked away in another direction.

“How are those spells coming along, Dean?” said Ridcully, through gritted teeth. “I’m having real difficulties controlling this thing.”

The Dean muttered a few more words, and then waved his hands dramatically. Octarine flame spurted from his fingertips and earthed itself somewhere in the mists.

“Yee-haw!” he crowed.

“Dean?”

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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