“That must be upsetting for the innkeepers.”
“I’ve never really thought about it. I suppose it must be one of the risks of the job.”
Twoflower regarded him thoughtfully.
“I might be able to help there.” he said. “Risks are my business. I say, this food is a bit greasy, isn’t it?”
“You did say you wanted to try some typical Morporkean food,” said Rincewind. “What was that about risks?”
“Oh, I know all about risks. They’re my business.”
“I thought that’s what you said. I didn’t believe it the first time either.”
“Oh, I don’t take risks. About the most exciting thing that happened to me was knocking some ink over. I assess risks. Day after day. Do you know what the odds are against a house catching fire in the Red Triangle district of des Pelargic? Five hundred and thirty-eight to one. I calculated that,” he added with a trace of pride.
“What-” Rincewind tried to suppress a burp-“what for? ‘Scuse me.” He helped himself to some more wine
“For-” Twoflower paused. “I can’t say it in Trob, I don’t think the beTrobi have a word for it. In our language we call it-” he said a collection of outlandish syllables.
“Inn-sewer-ants,” repeated Rincewind. “That’s a funny word. Wossit mean?”
“Well suppose you have a ship loaded with, say, gold bars. it might run into storms or be taken by pirates. You don’t want that to happen, so you take out an ensewer-ants-polly-sea. I work out the odds of the cargo being lost, based on weather and piracy records for the last twenty years, then I add on a bit, then you pay me some money based on those odds-“
“-and the bit-” Rincewind said, waggling a finger solemnly.
“Then, if the cargo is lost, I reimburse you.”
“Reeburs?”
“Pay you the value of your cargo,” said Twoflower patiently.
“Oh I get it. It’s like a bet, right?”
“A wager? In a way, I suppose.”
“And you make money at this inn-sewer-ants?”
“It offers a return on investment, certainly.”
Wrapped in the warm yellow glow of the wine, Rincewind tried to think of inn-sewer-ants in circle sea terms.
“I don’t think I unnerstan’ this inn-sewer-ants,” he said firmly, idly watching the world spin by,
“Magic now. Magic I unnerstan’.”
Twoflower grinned. “Magic is one thing, and reflected-sound-ofunderground-spirits is another, he said.”
“Whah?”
“What?”
“That funny word you used,” said Rincewind impatiently.
“Reflected-sound-of-underground-spirits?
“Never heard of it.”
Twoflower tried to explain.