Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

He stared at the posters again. You just get one chance, she said. You live for maybe seventy years, and if you're lucky you get one chance. Think of all the natural skiers who are born in deserts. Think of all the genius blacksmiths who were born hundreds of years before anyone invented the horse. All the skills that are never used. All the wasted chances.

How lucky for me, he thought gloomily, that I happen to be alive at this time.

Ginger turned over in her sleep. At least her breathing was more regular now.

'Come on,' said Gaspode. 'It's not right, you being alone in a lady's boodwah.'

'I'm not alone,' Victor said. 'She's with me.'

'That's the point,' said Gaspode.

'Woof,' Laddie added, loyally.

'You know,' said Victor, following the dogs down the stairs, 'I'm beginning to feel there's something wrong here. There's something going on and I don't know what it is. Why was she trying to get into the hill?'

'Prob'ly in league with dread Powers,' said Gaspode.

'The city and the hill and the old book and everything,' said Victor, ignoring this. 'It all makes sense if only I knew what was connecting it.'

He stepped out into the early evening, into the lights and noise of Holy Wood.

'Tomorrow we'll go up there in the daylight and sort this out once and for all,' he said.

'No, we won't,' said Gaspode. 'The reason being, tomorrow we're goin' to Ankh-Morpork, remember?'

'We?' said Victor. 'Ginger and I are going. I didn't know about you.'

'Laddie goin', too,' said Gaspode. 'I-'

'Good boy Laddie!'

'Yeah, yeah. I heard the trainers say. So I've got to go with him to see he don't get into any trouble, style of fing.'

Victor yawned. 'Well, I'm going to go to bed. We'll probably have to start early.'

Gaspode looked innocently up and down the alley. Somewhere a door opened and there was the sound of drunken laughter.

'I fought I might have a bit of a stroll before turnin' in,' he said. 'Show Laddie-'

'Laddie good boy!'

'-the sights and that.'

Victor looked doubtful.

'Don't keep him out too late,' he said. 'People will worry.9

'Yeah, right,' said Gaspode. 'G'night.'

He sat and watched Victor wander off.

'Huh,' he said, under his dreadful breath. 'Catch anyone worryin' about me.' He glared up at Laddie, who sprang to obedient attention.

'Right, young fells-me-pup,' he said. ' 'S time you got educated. Lesson One, Glomming Free Drinks in Bars. It's lucky for you', he added, 'that you met me.'

Two canine shapes staggered uncertainly up the midnight street.

'We're poor li'l lambs', Gaspode howled, 'wot have loorst our way . . . ' 'Woof! Woof! Woof!'