The Light Fantastic: A Novel of Discworld by Terry Pratchett

Author:Terry Pratchett [Pratchett, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Humorous, General
ISBN: 9780061801150
Google: XGU64cv2iEIC
Publisher: Harper Collins
Published: 2009-10-13T16:14:54+00:00

‘You shee?’ he said.

Bethan heard Cohen gasp.

‘You can take yoursh out?’

‘Oh yesh. I’ve got sheveral shets. Excushe me—’ There was a swallowing noise, and then in a more normal voice Twoflower said, ‘It’s very convenient, of course.’

Cohen’s very voice radiated awe, or as much awe as is possible without teeth, which is about the same amount as with teeth but sounds a great deal less impressive.

‘I should think show,’ he said. ‘When they ache, you jusht take them out and let them get on with it, yesh? Teach the little buggersh a lesshon, shee how they like being left to ache all by themshelvesh!’

‘That’s not quite right,’ said Twoflower carefully. ‘They’re not mine, they just belong to me.’

‘You put shomeone elshe’s teethsh in your mouth?’

‘No, someone made them, lots of people wear them where I come from, it’s a—’

But Twoflower’s lecture on dental appliances went ungiven, because somebody hit him.

The Disc’s little moon toiled across the sky. It shone by its own light, owing to the cramped and rather inefficient astronomical arrangements made by the Creator, and was quite crowded with assorted lunar goddesses who were not, at this particular time, paying much attention to what went on in the Disc but were getting up a petition about the Ice Giants.

Had they looked down, they would have seen Rincewind talking urgently to a bunch of rocks.

Trolls are one of the oldest lifeforms in the multiverse, dating from an early attempt to get the whole life thing on the road without all that squashy protoplasm. Individual trolls live for a long time, hibernating during the summertime and sleeping during the day, since heat affects them and makes them slow. They have a fascinating geology. One could talk about tribology, one could mention the semiconductor effects of impure silicon, one could talk about the giant trolls of prehistory who make up most of the Disc’s major mountain ranges and will cause some real problems if they ever awake, but the plain fact is that without the Disc’s powerful and pervasive magical field trolls would have died out a long time ago.

Psychiatry hadn’t been invented on the Disc. No one had ever shoved an inkblot under Rincewind’s nose to see if he had any loose toys in the attic. So the only way he’d have been able to describe the rocks turning back into trolls was by gabbling vaguely about how pictures suddenly form when you look at the fire, or clouds.

One minute there’d be a perfectly ordinary rock, and suddenly a few cracks that had been there all along took on the definite appearance of a mouth or a pointed ear. A moment later, and without anything actually changing at all, a troll would be sitting there, grinning at him with a mouth full of diamonds.

They wouldn’t be able to digest me, he told himself. I’d make them awfully ill.

It wasn’t much of a comfort.

‘So you’re Rincewind the wizard,’ said the nearest one. It sounded like someone running over gravel. ‘I dunno. I thought you’d be taller.

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