You ought to have a clear out.
‘Oogh.’
Ah.’
Rincewind felt the presence retreat. Coin frowned.
‘We can’t let them get through,’ he announced. ‘They have horrible powers. They’re trying to will the hole bigger, and they can do it. They’ve been waiting to break into our world for-’ he frowned -’ians?’
‘Aeons,’ said Rincewind.
Coin opened his other hand, which had been tightly clenched, and showed Rincewind the small grey pearl.
‘Do you know what this is?’ he said.
‘No. What is it?’
‘I–can’t remember. But we should put it back.’
‘Okay. Just use sourcery. Blow them to bits and let’s go home.’
‘No. They live on magic. It’d only make them worse. I can’t use magic.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Rincewind.
‘I’m afraid your memory was very clear on the subject.’
‘Then what shall we do?’
‘I don’t know!’
Rincewind thought about this and then, with an air of finality, started to take off his last sock.
‘No half-bricks,’ he said, to no-one in particular. ‘Have to use sand.’
‘You’re going to attack them with a sockful of sand?’
‘No. I’m going to run away from them. The sockful of sand is for when they follow.’
People were returning to Al Khali, where the ruined tower was a smoking heap of stones. A few brave souls turned their attention to the wreckage, on the basis that there might be survivors who could be rescued or looted or both.
And, among the rubble, the following conversation might have been heard:
‘There’s something moving under here!’
‘Under that? By the two beards of Imtal, you are mishearing. It must weigh a ton.’
‘Over here, brothers!’
And then sounds of much heaving would have been heard, and then:
‘It’s a box!’
‘It could be treasure, do you think?’
‘It’s growing legs, by the Seven Moons of Nasreem!’
‘Five moons-’