The Light Fantastic (Discworld 2)

'It's a shuprishe.'

'I could do with a new dress, too,' said Bethan.

'I'll shteal you one.'

There was something very oppressive about the city, Rincewind decided. There was also something very odd.

Almost every door was painted with a large red star.

'It's creepy,' said Bethan. 'As if people wanted to bring the star here.'

'Or keep it away,' said Twoflower.

'That won't work. It's too big,' said Rincewind. He saw their faces turned towards him.

'Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?' he said lamely.

'No,' said Bethan.

'Stars are small lights in the sky,' said Twoflower. 'One fell down near my home once – big white thing, size of a house, glowed for weeks before it went out.'

'This star is different,' said a voice. 'Great A'Tuin has climbed the beach of the universe. This is the great ocean of space.'

'How do you know?' said Twoflower.

'Know what?' said Rincewind.

'What you just said. About beaches and oceans.'

'I didn't say anything!'

'Yes you did, you silly man!' yelled Bethan. 'We saw your lips going up and down and everything!'

Rincewind shut his eyes. Inside his mind he could feel the Spell scuttling off to hide behind his conscience, and muttering to itself.

'All right, all right,' he said. 'No need to shout. I – I don't know how I know, I just know —.'

'Well, I wish you'd tell us.'

They turned the corner.

All the cities around the Circle Sea had a special area set aside for the gods, of which the Disc had an elegant sufficiency. Usually they were crowded and not very attractive from an architectural point of view. The most senior gods, of course, had large and splendid temples, but the trouble was that later gods demanded equality and soon the holy areas were sprawling with lean-to's, annexes, loft conversions, sub-basements, bijou flatlets, ecclesiastical infilling and trans-temporal timesharing, since no god would dream of living outside the holy quarter or, as it had become, three-eighths. There were usually three hundred different types of incense being burned and the noise was normally at pain threshold because of all the priests vying with each other to call their share of the faithful to prayer.

But this street was deathly quiet, that particularly unpleasant quiet that comes when hundreds of frightened and angry people are standing very still.

A man at the edge of the crowd turned around and scowled at the newcomers. He had a red star painted on his forehead.

'What's—' Rincewind began, and stopped as his voice seemed far too loud, 'what's this?'

'You're strangers?' said the man.

'Actually we know one another quite—' Twoflower egan, and fell silent. Bethan pointed up the street.

Every temple had a star painted on it. There was a particularly big one daubed across the stone eye outside the temple of Blind Io, leader of the gods.

'Urgh,' said Rincewind. 'Io is going to be really pissed when he sees that. I don't think we ought to hang around here, friends.'

The crowd was facing a crude platform that had been built in the centre of the wide street. A big banner had been draped across the front of it.