tp.lightfantastic-第20节

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　'Oh。　What　were　we　talking　about？'
　'This　red　star　thing。'
　'Right。　It's　very　important　that　you　…'
　'Hallo？　Hallo？　Anyone　out　there？'
　It　was　a　small　and　squeaky　voice　and　came　from　the　picture　box　still　slung　around　Twoflower's　inert　neck。
　The　picture　imp　opened　his　hatch　and　squinted　up　at　Rincewind。
　'Where's　this；　squire？'　it　said。
　'I'm　not　sure。'
　'We　still　dead？'
　'Maybe。'
　'Well；　let's　hope　we　go　somewhere　where　we　don't　need　too　much　black；　because　I've　run　out。'　The　hatch　slammed　shut。
　Rincewind　had　a　fleeting　vision　of　Twoflower　handing　around　his　pictures　and　saying　things　like　'This　is　me　being　tormented　by　a　million　demons'　and　'This　is　me　with　that　funny　couple　we　met　on　the　freezing　slopes　of　the　Underworld。'　Rincewind　wasn't　certain　about　what　happened　to　you　after　you　really　died；　the　authorities　were　a　little　unclear　on　the　subject；　a　swarthy　sailor　from　the　Rimward　lands　had　said　that　he　was　confident　of　going　to　a　paradise　where　there　was　sherbet　and　houris。　Rincewind　wasn't　certain　what　a　houri　was；　but　after　some　thought　he　came　to　the　conclusion　that　it　was　a　little　liquorice　tube　for　sucking　up　the　sherbet。　Anyway；　sherbet　made　him　sneeze。
　'Now　that　interruption　is　over；'　said　a　dry　voice　firmly；　'perhaps　we　can　get　on。　It　is　most　important　that　you　don't　let　the　wizards　take　the　spell　from　you。　Terrible　things　will　happen　if　all　eight　spells　are　said　too　soon。'
　'I　just　want　to　be　left　in　peace；'　said　Rincewind。
　'Good；　good。　We　knew　we　could　trust　you　from　the　day　you　first　opened　the　Octavo。'
　Rincewind　hesitated。　'Hang　on　a　minute；'　he　said。　'You　want　me　to　run　around　keeping　the　wizards　from　getting　all　the　spells　together？'
　'Exactly。'
　'That's　why　one　of　you　got　into　my　head？'
　'Precisely。'
　'You　totally　ruined　my　life；　you　know　that？'　said　Rincewind　hotly。　'I　could　have　really　made　it　as　a　wizard　if　you　hadn't　decided　to　use　me　as　a　sort　of　portable　spellbook。　I　can't　remember　any　other　spells；　they're　too　frightened　to　stay　in　the　same　head　as　you！'
　'We're　sorry。'
　'I　just　want　to　go　home！　I　want　to　go　back　to　where…'　a　trace　of　moisture　appeared　in　Rincewind's　eye　…　'to　where　there's　cobbles　under　your　feet　and　some　of　the　beer　isn't　too　bad　and　you　can　get　quite　a　good　piece　of　fried　fish　of　an　evening；　with　maybe　a　couple　of　big　green　gherkins；　and　even　an　eel　pie　and　a　dish　of　whelks；　and　there's　always　a　warm　stable　somewhere　to　sleep　in　and　in　the　morning　you　are　always　in　the　same　place　as　you　were　the　night　before　and　there　wasn't　all　this　weather　all　over　the　place。　I　mean；　I　don't　mind　about　the　magic；　I'm　probably　not；　you　know；　the　right　sort　of　material　for　a　wizard；　I　just　want　to　go　home！…'
　'But　you　must…'　one　of　the　spells　began。
　It　was　too　late。　Homesickness；　the　little　elastic　band　in　the　subconscious　that　can　wind　up　a　salmon　and　propel　it　three　thousand　miles　through　strange　seas；　or　send　a　million　lemmings　running　joyfully　back　to　an　ancestral　homeland　which；　owing　to　a　slight　kink　in　the　continental　drift；　isn't　there　any　more　…　homesickness　rose　up　inside　Rincewind　like　a　late…night　prawn　biriani；　flowed　along　the　tenuous　thread　linking　his　tortured　soul　to　his　body；　dug　its　heels　in　and　tugged　。　。　。
　The　spells　were　alone　inside　their　Octavo。
　Alone；　at　any　rate；　apart　from　the　Luggage。
　They　looked　at　it；　not　with　eyes；　but　with　consciousness　as　old　as　the　Discworld　itself。
　'And　you　can　bugger　off　too；'　they　said。
　

　'&mdash　bad。'
　Rincewind　knew　it　was　himself　speaking；　he　recognised　the　voice。　For　a　moment　he　was　looking　out　through　his　eyes　not　in　any　normal　way；　but　as　a　spy　might　peer　through　the　cut…out　eyes　of　a　picture。　Then　he　was　back。
　'You　okay；　Rinshwind？'　said　Cohen。　'You　looked　a　bit　gone　there。'
　'You　did　look　a　bit　white；'　agreed　Bethan。　'Like　someone　had　walked　over　your　grave。'
　'Uh；　yes；　it　was　probably　me；'　he　said。　He　held　up　his　fingers　and　counted　them。　There　appeared　to　be　the　normal　amount。
　'Um；　have　I　moved　at　all？'　he　said。
　'You　just　looked　at　the　fire　as　if　you　had　seen　a　ghost；'　said　Bethan。
　There　was　a　groan　behind　them。　Twoflower　was　sitting　up；　holding　his　head　in　his　hands。
　His　eyes　focused　on　them。　His　lips　moved　soundlessly。
　'That　was　a　really　strange　。　。　。　dream；'　he　said。　'What's　this　place？　Why　am　I　here？'
　'Well；'　said　Cohen；　'shome　shay　the　Creator　of　the　Univershe　took　a　handful　of　clay　and　…'
　'No；　I　mean　here；'　said　Twoflower。　'Is　that　you；　Rincewind？'
　'Yes；'　said　Rincewind；　giving　it　the　benefit　of　the　doubt。
　'There　was　this　。　。　。　a　clock　that　。　。　。　and　these　people　who　。　。　。'　said　Twoflower。　He　shook　his　head。　'Why　does　everything　smell　of　horses？'
　'You've　been　ill；'　said　Rincewind。　'Hallucinating。'
　'Yes　。　。　。　I　suppose　I　was。'　Twoflower　looked　down　at　his　chest。　'But　in　that　case；　why　have　I…'　Rincewind　jumped　to　his　feet。
　'Sorry；　very　close　in　here；　got　to　have　a　breath　of　fresh　air；'　he　said。　He　removed　the　picture　box's　strap　from　Twoflower's　neck；　and　dashed　for　the　tent　flap。
　'I　didn't　notice　that　when　he　came　in；'　said　Bethan。　Cohen　shrugged。
　Rincewind　managed　to　get　a　few　yards　from　the　yurt　efore　the　ratchet　of　the　picture　box　began　to　click。　Very　slowly；　the　box　extruded　the　last　picture　that　the　imp　had　taken。
　Rincewind　snatched　at　it。
　What　it　showed　would　have　been　quite　horrible　even　in　broad　daylight。　By　freezing　starlight；　tinted　red　with　the　fires　of　the　evil　new　star；　it　was　a　lot　worse。
　'No；'　said　Rincewind　softly。　'No；　it　wasn't　like　that；　there　was　a　house；　and　this　girl；　and　。　。　。'
　'You　see　what　you　see　and　I　paint　what　I　see；'　said　the　imp　from　its　hatch。　'What　I　see　is　real。　I　was　bred　for　it。　I　only　see　what's　really　there。'
　A　dark　shape　crunched　over　the　snowcrust　towards　Rincewind。　It　was　the　Luggage。　Rincewind；　who　normally　hated　and　distrusted　it；　suddenly　felt　it　was　the　most　refreshingly　normal　thing　he　had　ever　seen。
　'I　see　you　made　it；　then；'　said　Rincewind。　The　Luggage　rattled　its　lid。
　'Okay；　but　what　did　you　see？'　said　Rincewind。　'Did　you　look　behind？'
　The　Luggage　said　nothing。　For　a　moment　they　were　silent；　like　two　warriors　who　have　fled　the　field　of　carnage　and　have　paused　for　a　return　of　breath　and　sanity。
　Then　Rincewind　said；　'e　on；　there's　a　fire　inside。'　He　reached　out　to　pat　the　Luggage's　lid。　It　snapped　irritably　at　him；　nearly　catching　his　fingers。　Life　was　back　to　normal　again。
　

　The　next　day　dawned　bright　and　clear　and　cold。　The　sky　became　a　blue　dome　stuck　on　the　white　sheet　of　the　world；　and　the　whole　effect　would　have　been　as　fresh　and　clean　as　a　toothpaste　advert　if　it　wasn't　for　the　pink　dot　on　the　horizon。
　'You　can　shee　it　in　daylight　now；'　said　Cohen。　'What　is　it？'
　He　looked　hard　at　Rincewind；　who　reddened。
　'Why　does　everyone　look　at　me？'　he　said。　'I　don't　know　107　what　it　is；　maybe　it's　a　et　or　something。'
　'Will　we　all　be　burned　up？'　said　Bethan。
　'How　should　I　know？　I've　never　been　hit　by　a　et　before。'
　They　were　riding　in　single　file　across　the　brilliant　snow…field。　The　Horse　people；　who　seemed　to　hold　Cohen　in　high　regard；　had　given　them　their　mounts　and　directions　to　the　River　Smarl；　a　hundred　miles　rimward；　where　Cohen　reckoned　Rincewind　and　Twoflower　could　find　a　boat　to　take　them　to　the　Circle　Sea。　He　had　announced　that　he　was　ing　with　them；　on　account　of　his　chilblains。
　Bethan　had　promptly　announced　that　she　was　going　to　e　too；　in　case　Cohen　wanted　anything　rubbed。
　Rincewind　was　vaguely　aware　of　some　sort　of　chemistry　bubbling　away。　For　one　thing；　Cohen　had　made　an　effort　to　b　his　beard。
　'I　think　she's　rather　taken　with　you；'　he　said。　Cohen　sighed。
　If　I　wash　twenty　yearsh　younger；'　he　said　wistfully。
　'Yes？'
　'I'd　be　shixty…sheven。'
　'What's　that　got　to　do　with　it？'
　'Well　…　how　can　I　put　it？　When　I　wash　a　young　man；　carving　my　name　in　the　world；　well；　then　I　liked　my　women　red…haired　and　fiery。'
　'Ah。'
　'And　then　I　grew　a　little　older　and　for　preference　I　looked　for　a　woman　with　blonde　hair；　and　the　glint　of　the　world　in　her　eye。'
　'Oh？　Yes？'
　'But　then　I　grew　a　little　older　again　and　I　came　to　see　the　point　of　dark　women　of　a　sultry　nature。'
　He　paused。　Rincewind　waited。
　'And？'　he　said。　'Then　what？　What　is　it　that　you　look　for　in　a　woman　now？'
　Cohen　turned　one　rheumy　blue　eye　on　him。
　'Patience；'　he　said。
　'I　can't　believe　it！'　said　a　voice　behind　them。　'Me　riding　ith　Cohen　the　Barbarian！'
　It　was　Twoflower。　Since　early　morning　he　had　been　like　a　monkey　with　the　key　to　the　banana　plantation　after　discovering　he　was　breathing　the　same　air　as　the　greatest　hero　of　all　time。
　'Is　he　perhapsh　being　sharcashtic？'　said　Cohen　to　Rincewind。
　'No。　He's　always　like　that。'
　Cohen　turned　in　his　saddle。　Twoflower　beamed　at　him；　and　waved　proudly。　Cohen　turned　back；　and　grunted。
　'He's　got　eyesh；　hashn't　he？'
　'Yes；　but　they　don't　work　like　other　people's。　Take　it　from　me。　I　mean　…　well；　you　know　the　Horse　people's　yurt；　where　we　were　last　night？'
　'Yesh。'
　'Would　you　say　it　was　a　bit　dark　and　greasy　and　smelt　like　a　very　ill　horse？'
　'Very　accurate　deshcription；　I'd　shay。'
　'He　wouldn't　agree。　He'd　say　it　was　a　magnificent　barbarian　tent；　hung　with　the　pelts　of　th