'Viz true darkness, to be precise,' said Otto, excitement entering his voice. 'Not just absence of light. Zer light on zer ozzer side of darkness. You could call it... living darkness. Ve can't see it, but imps can. Did you know zer Uberwaldean Deep Cave land eel emits a burst of dark light ven startled?'
William glanced at a large glass jar on the bench. A couple of ugly things were coiled up in the bottom.
'And that will work, will it?'
'I zink so. Hold it vun minute.'
'I really ought to be getting back--'
'Zis vill not take a second
Otto gently lifted one of the eels out of its jar and put it into the hod usually occupied by a salamander. He carefully aimed one of his iconographs at William and nodded.
'Vun... two... three... BOO!'
There was--
--there was a soft noiseless implosion, a very brief sensation of the world being screwed up small, frozen, smashed into tiny little sharp pins and hammered through every cell of William's body.* Then the gloom of the cellar flowed back.
'That was... very strange,' said William, blinking. 'It was like something very cold walking through me.'
'Much may be learnt about dark light now ve have left our disgusting past behind us and haf emerged into zer bright new future vhere ve do not zink about zer b-vord all day in any vay at all,' said Otto,'fiddling with the iconograph. He looked hard at the picture the imp had painted and then glanced up at William. 'Oh veil, back to zer drawink board,' he said.
'Can I see?'
'It vould embarrass me,' said Otto, putting the square of cardboard down on his makeshift bench. 'All zer time I am doing things wronk.'
'Oh, but I'd--'
'Mister de Worde, dere's something happening!'
The bellow came from Rocky, whose head eclipsed the hole.
'What is it?'
'Something at der palace. Someone's been killed!'
William sprang up the ladder. Sacharissa was sitting at her desk, looking pale.
'Someone's assassinated Vetinari?' said William.
'Er, no,' said Sacharissa. 'Not... exactly,'
Down in the cellar Otto Chriek picked up the dark light
* In many ways William de Worde had quite a graphic imagination.
iconograph and looked at it again. Then he scratched it with a long pale finger, as if trying to remove something.
'Strange...' he said.
The imp hadn't imagined it, he knew. Imps had no imagination whatsoever. They didn't know how to lie.
He looked around the bare cellar suspiciously.
'Is zere anyvun zere?' he said. 'Is anyvun playink zer silly buggers?'
Thankfully there was no answer.