And, of course, it would be impossible to explain things to his companions. They didn’t seem to grasp ideas properly; more particularly, they didn’t seem able to get the hang of doom. They suffered from the terrible delusion that something could be done. They seemed prepared to make the world the way they wanted it or die in the attempt, and the trouble with dying in the attempt was that you died in the attempt.
The whole point about the old University organisation was that it kept a sort of peace between wizards who got along with one another about as easily as cats in a sack, and now the gloves were off anyone who tried to interfere was going to end up severely scratched. This wasn’t the old, gentle, rather silly magic that the Disc was used to; this was magic war, white-hot and searing.
Rincewind wasn’t very good at precognition; in fact he could barely see into the present. But he knew with weary certainty that at some point in the very near future, like thirty seconds or so, someone would say: ‘Surely there’s something we could do?’
The desert passed below them, lit by the low rays of the setting sun.
‘There don’t seem to be many stars,’ said Nijel. ‘Perhaps they’re scared to come out.’
Rincewind looked up. There was a silver haze high in the air.
‘It’s raw magic settling out of the atmosphere,’ he said. ‘It’s saturated.’
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twen-
‘Surely there’s-’ Conina began.
‘There isn’t,’ said Rincewind flatly, but with just the faintest twinge of satisfaction. ‘The wizards will fight each other until there’s one victor. There isn’t anything anyone else can do.’
‘I could do with a drink,’ said Creosote. ‘I suppose we couldn’t stop somewhere where I could buy an inn?’
‘What with?’ said Nijel. ‘You’re poor, remember?’
‘Poor I don’t mind,’ said the Seriph. ‘It’s sobriety that is giving me difficulties.’
Conina prodded Rincewind gently in the ribs.
‘Are you steering this thing?’ she said.
No.’
‘Then where is it going?’
Nijel peered downwards.
‘By the look of it,’ he said, ‘it’s going hubwards. Towards the Circle Sea.’
‘Someone must be guiding it.’
Hallo, said a friendly voice in Rincewind’s head.
You’re not my conscience again, are you? thought Rincewind.
I’m feeling really bad.
Well, I’m sorry, Rincewind thought, but none of this is my fault. I’m just a victim of circuses. I don’t see why I should take the blame.
Yes, but you could do something about it.
Like what?
You could destroy the sourcerer. All this would collapse then.
I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Then at least you could die in the attempt. That might be preferable to letting magical war break out.
‘Look, just shut up, will you?’ said Rincewind.