'Who are?'
'The stars!'
The wizards, as one man, looked upwards.
'No, they're not,' said the Dean, but the boy had shaken himself free and disappeared in the press of people.
'Strange primitive superstition,' said the Dean, and the wizards, with the exception of Poons, who was complaining and flailing around with his stick, craned forward to see.
The Bursar met the Archchancellor in a corridor.
'There's no-one in the Uncommon Room!' screamed the Bursar.
'The Library's empty!' bellowed the Archchancellor.
'I've heard about that sort of thing,' the Bursar whimpered. 'Spontaneous something-or-other. They've all gone spontaneous!'
'Calm down, man. Just because-'
'I can't even find any of the servants! You know what happens when reality gives way! Even now giant tentacles are probably-'
There was a distant whumm . . . whumm noise, and the sound of pellets bouncing off the wall.
'Always the same direction,' the Bursar muttered.
'What direction is that, then?'
'The direction They'll be coming from! I think I'm going mad!'
'Now, now,' said the Archchancellor, patting him on the shoulder. 'You don't want to go around talking like that. That's crazy talk.'
Ginger stared, panic-stricken, out of the carriage window.
'Who are all these people?' she said.
'They're fans,' said Dibbler.
'But I'm not hot!'
'Uncle means that they're people who like seeing you in the clicks,' said Soll. 'Er. Like you a lot.'
'There's women out there too,' said Victor. He gave a cautious wave. In the crowd, a woman swooned.
'You're famous,' he said. 'You said you always wanted to be famous.'
Ginger looked out at the crowd again. 'I never thought it would be like this, though. They're all shouting our names!'
'We've put a lot of effort into telling people about Blown Away,' said Soll.
'Yes,' said Dibbler. 'We said it was the greatest click in the entire history of Holy Wood.'
'But we've been making clicks for only a couple of months,' Ginger pointed out.
'So what? That's still a history,' said Dibbler.
Victor saw the look in Ginger's face. Exactly how long was Holy Wood's real history? Perhaps there was some ancient stone calendar, down there on the sea bed, among the lobsters. Perhaps there was no way it could be measured. How did you measure the age of an idea?
'A lot of civic dignitaries are going to be there, too,' said Dibbler. 'The Patrician and the nobles and the Guild heads and some of the high priests. Not the wizards, of course, the stuck-up old idiots. But it'll be a night to remember right enough.'