‘Or it could be, say, sensitive to one particular voice-’
‘Shut. Up.’
‘You tried up,’ said Nijel. ‘Try ascend.’
‘Or soar,’ said Creosote. Several tons of flagstone swooped past an inch from his head.
‘If it was going to answer to them it would have done, wouldn’t it?’ said Conina. The air round her was thick with dust as the flying stones ground together. She thumped the carpet.
‘Take off, you blasted mat! Arrgh!’
A piece of cornice clipped her shoulder. She rubbed the bruise irritably, and turned to Rincewind, who was sitting with his knees under his chin and his hat pulled down over his head.
‘Why doesn’t it work?’ she said.
‘You’re not saying the right words,’ he said.
‘It doesn’t understand the language?’
‘Language hasn’t got anything to do with it. You’ve neglected something fundamental.’
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ sniffed Rincewind.
‘Look, this isn’t the time to stand on your dignity!’
‘You keep on trying, don’t you mind me.’
‘Make it fly!’
Rincewind pulled his hat further over his ears.
‘Please?’ said Conina.
The hat rose a bit.
‘Wed all be terribly bucked,’ said Nijel.
‘Hear, hear,’ said Creosote.
The hat rose some more. ‘You’re quite sure?’ said Rincewind.
‘Yes!’
Rincewind cleared his throat.
‘Down,’ he commanded.
The carpet rose from the ground and hovered expectantly a few feet over the dust.
‘How did-’ Conina began, but Nijel interrupted her.
‘Wizards are privy to arcane knowledge, that’s probably what it is,’ he said. ‘Probably the carpet’s got a geas on it to do the opposite of anything that’s said. Can you make it go up further?’
‘Yes, but I’m not going to,’ said Rincewind. The carpet drifted slowly forward and, as happens so often at times like this, a rolling of masonry bounced right across the spot where it had lain.
A moment later they were out in the open air, the storm of stone behind them.