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The Colour of Magic :: Пратчетт Терри
Страница: 5 из 150Then he stiffened as ifsandbagged by a sudden recollection, gave a small yelp of terror and dashed into the gloom. When he returned, the being called Twoflower was hanging limply over his shoulder. It was small and skinny, and dressed very oddly in a pair of knee length britches and a shirt in such a violent and vivid conflict of colours that Weasel’s fastidious eye was offended even in the half-light.
“No bones broken, by the feel of things,” said Rincewind. He was breathing heavily. Bravd winked at the Weasel and went to investigate the shape that they assumed was a pack animal.
“You’d be wise to forget it,” said the wizard, without looking up from his examination of the unconscious Twoflower. “Believe me. A power protects it.”
“A spell?” said Weasel, squatting down.
“No-oo. But magic of a kind, I think. Not the usual sort. I mean, it can turn gold into copper while at the same time it is still gold, it makes men rich by destroying their possessions, it allows the weak to walk fearlessly among thieves, it passes through the strongest doors to leach the most protected treasuries. Even now it has me enslaved—so that I must follow this madman willynilly and protect him from harm. It’s stronger than you, Bravd. It is, I think, more cunning even than you, Weasel.”
“What is it called then, this mighty magic?”
Rincewind shrugged. “in our tongue it is reflected-sound-as-of-underground-spirits. Is there any wine?”
“You must know that I am not without artifice where magic is concerned,” said Weasel. “only last year did I– assisted by my friend there—part the notoriously powerful Archmage of Ymitury from his staff, his belt of moon jewels and his life, in that approximate order. I do not fear this reflected-sound-of-underground-spirits of which you speak. However,” he added, “you engage my interest. Perhaps you would care to tell me more?”
Bravd looked at the shape on the road. It was closer now, and clearer in the pre-dawn light. It looked for all the world like a
“A box on legs?” he said.
“I’ll tell you about it,” said Rincewind. “if there’s any wine, that is.”
Down in the valley there was a roar and a hiss. Someone more thoughtful than the rest had ordered to be shut the big river gates that were at the point where the Ankh flowed out of the twin city. Denied its usual egress, the river had burst its banks and was pouring down the fire-ravaged streets. Soon the continent of flame became a series of islands, each one growing smaller as the dark tide rose.
“No bones broken, by the feel of things,” said Rincewind. He was breathing heavily. Bravd winked at the Weasel and went to investigate the shape that they assumed was a pack animal.
“You’d be wise to forget it,” said the wizard, without looking up from his examination of the unconscious Twoflower. “Believe me. A power protects it.”
“A spell?” said Weasel, squatting down.
“No-oo. But magic of a kind, I think. Not the usual sort. I mean, it can turn gold into copper while at the same time it is still gold, it makes men rich by destroying their possessions, it allows the weak to walk fearlessly among thieves, it passes through the strongest doors to leach the most protected treasuries. Even now it has me enslaved—so that I must follow this madman willynilly and protect him from harm. It’s stronger than you, Bravd. It is, I think, more cunning even than you, Weasel.”
“What is it called then, this mighty magic?”
Rincewind shrugged. “in our tongue it is reflected-sound-as-of-underground-spirits. Is there any wine?”
“You must know that I am not without artifice where magic is concerned,” said Weasel. “only last year did I– assisted by my friend there—part the notoriously powerful Archmage of Ymitury from his staff, his belt of moon jewels and his life, in that approximate order. I do not fear this reflected-sound-of-underground-spirits of which you speak. However,” he added, “you engage my interest. Perhaps you would care to tell me more?”
Bravd looked at the shape on the road. It was closer now, and clearer in the pre-dawn light. It looked for all the world like a
“A box on legs?” he said.
“I’ll tell you about it,” said Rincewind. “if there’s any wine, that is.”
Down in the valley there was a roar and a hiss. Someone more thoughtful than the rest had ordered to be shut the big river gates that were at the point where the Ankh flowed out of the twin city. Denied its usual egress, the river had burst its banks and was pouring down the fire-ravaged streets. Soon the continent of flame became a series of islands, each one growing smaller as the dark tide rose.