Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

'Sounds awful. Did it work?'

'No. They were all back in their bag in the morning. I must have picked them up again.'

Victor pursed his lips. 'That could be a good sign,' he said.

'Why?'

'If you were being summoned by, uh, unpleasant things,

I think they wouldn't bother what you walked over.'

'Urgh.'

'You haven't got any idea why it's all happening, have you?' Victor said.

'No! But I always get the same dream.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Hey, how come you know all this stuff?'

'I - a wizard told me, once,' said Victor.

'You're not a wizard yourself?'

'Absolutely not. No wizards in Holy Wood. And this dream?'

'Oh, it's too strange to mean anything. Anyway, I used to dream it even when I was small. It starts off with this mountain, only it's not a normal mountain, because-'

Detritus the troll loomed over them.

'Young Mr Dibbler says it's time to start shooting again,'

he rumbled.

'Will you come to my room tonight?' hissed Ginger.

'Please? You can wake me up if I start sleepwalking again.'

'Well, er, yes, but your landlady might not like it-' Victor began.

'Oh, Mrs Cosmopilite is very broadminded,' said Ginger.

'She is?'

'She'll just think we're having sex,' said Ginger.

'Ah,' said Victor hollowly. 'That's all right, then.'

'Young Mr Dibbler don't like being kept waiting,' said Detritus.

'Oh, shut up,' said Ginger. She stood up and brushed the dust off her dress. Detritus blinked. People didn't usually tell him to shut up. A few worried fault-lines appeared on his brow. He turned and tried another loom, this time aimed at Victor.

'Young Mr Dibbler don't like-'

'Oh, go away,' snapped Victor, and wandered off after her.

Detritus stood alone and screwed up his eyes in the effort of thought. Of course, people did occasionally say things like 'Go away' and 'Shut up' to him, but always with the tremor of terrified bravado in their voice, and so naturally he always riposted 'Hur hur' and hit them. But no-one had ever spoken to him as if his existence was the last thing in the world they could possibly be persuaded to worry about. His massive shoulders sagged. Perhaps all this hanging around Ruby was bad for him.

Soll was standing over the artist who lettered the cards. He looked up as Victor and Ginger approached.

'Right,' he said, 'places, everyone. We'll go straight on to the ballroom scene.' He looked pleased with himself.