Sourcery (Discworld 5)
Of more concern to Rincewind was the fact that he was being dragged upstairs.
‘My dear lady,’ he said desperately. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Is there a way on to the roof?’
‘Yes. What’s in this box?’
‘Shhh!’
She halted at a bend in the dingy corridor, reached into a belt pouch and scattered a handful of small metal objects on the floor behind them. Each one was made of four nails welded together so that, however the things fell, one was always pointing upwards.
She looked critically at the nearest doorway.
‘You haven’t got about four feet of cheesewire on you, have you?’ she said wistfully. Shed drawn another throwing knife and was throwing it up and catching it again.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Rincewind weakly.
‘Pity. I’ve run out. Okay, come on.’
‘Why? I haven’t done anything!’
She went to the nearest window, pushed open the shutters and paused with one leg over the sill.
‘Fine,’ she said, over her shoulder. ‘Stay here and explain it to the guards.’
‘Why are they chasing you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on! There must be a reason!’
‘Oh, there’s plenty of reasons. I just don’t know which one. Are you coming?’
Rincewind hesitated. The Patrician’s personal guard was not known for its responsive approach to community policing, preferring to cut bits off instead. Among the things they took a dim view of was, well, basically, people being in the same universe. Running away from them was likely to be a capital offence.
‘I think maybe I’ll come along with you,’ he said gallantly. ‘A girl can come to harm all alone in this city.’
Freezing fog filled the streets of Ankh-Morpork. The flares of street traders made little yellow haloes in the smothering billows.
The girl peered around a corner.
‘We’ve lost them,’ she said. ‘Stop shaking. You’re safe now.’
‘What, you mean I’m all alone with a female homicidal maniac?’ said Rincewind. ‘Fine.’
She relaxed and laughed at him.
‘I was watching you,’ she said. ‘An hour ago you were afraid that your future was going to be dull and uninteresting.’
‘I want it to be dull and uninteresting,’ said Rincewind bitterly. ‘I’m afraid it’s going to be short.’
‘Turn your back,’ she commanded, stepping into an alley.
‘Not on your life,’ he said.
‘I’m going to take my clothes off.’
Rincewind spun around, his face red. There was a rustling behind him, and a waft of scent. After a while she said, ‘You can look round now.’