Rincewind gave him an odd look. ‘Doesn’t it worry you?’
‘Not much. I never really spent anything. I’ve often wondered what being poor was like.’
‘You’re going to get a huge opportunity to find out.’
‘Will I need training?’
‘It comes naturally,’ said Rincewind. ‘You pick it up as you go along.’ There was a distant explosion and part of the ceiling turned to jelly.
‘Erm, excuse me,’ said Nijel, ‘this carpet …’
‘Yes,’ said Conina, ‘the carpet.’
Creosote gave them a benevolent, slightly tipsy smile.
‘Ah, yes. The carpet. Push the nose of the statue behind you, peach-buttocked jewel of the desert dawn.’
Conina, blushing, performed this act of minor sacrilege on a large green statue of Offler the Crocodile God.
Nothing happened. Secret compartments assiduously failed to open.
‘Um. Try the left hand.’
She gave it an experimental twist. Creosote scratched his head.
‘Maybe it was the right hand…’
‘I should try and remember, if I were you,’ said Conina sharply, when that didn’t work either. ‘There aren’t many bits left that I’d care to pull.’
‘What’s that thing there?’ said Rincewind.
‘You’re really going to hear about it if it isn’t the tail,’ said Conina, and gave it a kick.
There was a distant metallic groaning noise, like a saucepan in pain. The statue shuddered. It was followed by a few heavy clonks somewhere inside the wall, and Offler the Crocodile God grated ponderously aside. There was a tunnel behind him.
‘My grandfather had this built for our more interesting treasure,’ said Creosote. ‘He was very-’ he groped for a word-’ingenious.’
‘If you think I’m setting foot in there-’ Rincewind began.
‘Stand aside,’ said Nijel, loftily. ‘I will go first.’
‘There could be traps-’ said Conina doubtfully. She shot the Seriph a glance.
‘Oh, probably, O gazelle of Heaven,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been in there since I was six. There were some slabs you shouldn’t tread on, I think.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Nijel, peering into the gloom of the tunnel. ‘I shouldn’t think there’s a booby trap that I couldn’t spot.’
‘Had a lot of experience at this sort of thing, have you?’ said Rincewind sourly.
‘Well, I know Chapter Fourteen off by heart. It had illustrations,’ said Nijel, and ducked into the shadows.
They waited for several minutes in what would have been a horrified hush if it wasn’t for the muffled grunts and occasional thumping noises from the tunnel. Eventually Nijel’s voice echoed back down to them from a distance.
‘There’s absolutely nothing,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried everything. It’s as steady as a rock. Everything must have seized up, or something.’
Rincewind and Conina exchanged glances.
‘He doesn’t know the first thing about traps,’ she said. ‘When I was five, my father made me walk all the way down a passage that he’d rigged up, just to teach me-’