Eric (Discworld 9)

Astfgl peered through the swirling gas clouds. At least he was in the right place. The whole point about the end of the universe was that you couldn't go past it accidentally.

The last few embers winked out. Time and space collided silently, and collapsed. Astfgl coughed. It can get so very lonely, when you're twenty million light years from home.

“Anyone there?” he said. YES. The voice was right by his ear. Even demon kings can shiver. “Apart from you, I mean,” he said. “Have you seen anybody?” YES. “Who?” EVERYONE. Astfgl sighed. “I mean anyone recently.” IT'S BEEN VERY QUIET, said Death. “Damn.” WERE YOU EXPECTING SOMEONE ELSE?

“I thought there might be someone called Rincewind, but -” Astfgl began.

Death's eyesockets flared red. THE WIZARD? he said.

“No, he's a dem -” Astfgl stopped. For what would have been several seconds, had time still existed, he floated in a state of horrible suspicion. “A human?” he growled. IT IS STRETCHING THE TERM A LITTLE, BUT YOU ARE BROADLY CORRECT. “Well I'll be damned!” Astfgl said.

I BELIEVE YOU ALREADY ARE. The Demon King extended a shaking hand. His mounting fury was over-ridding his sense of style; his red silk gloves ripped as the talons unfolded.

And then, because it's never a good idea to get on the wrong side of anyone with a scythe, Astfgl said, “Sorry you've been troubled,” and vanished. Only when he judged himself out of Death's extremely acute hearing did he scream his rage.

Nothingness uncoiled its interminable length through the draughty spaces at the end of

time. Death waited. After a while his skeletal fingers began to drum on the handle of his scythe.

Darkness lapped around him. There wasn't even any infinity any more.

He attempted to whistle a few snatches of unpopular songs between his teeth, but the sound was simply sucked into nothingness. Forever was over. All the sands had fallen. The great race between entropy and energy

had been run, and the favourite had been the winner after all. Perhaps he ought to sharpen the blade again? No.

Not much point, really.

Great roils of absolutely nothing stretched into what would have been called the distance, if there had been a space-time reference frame to give words like “distance” any sensible meaning any more.

o;What?”

“It's only a few hundred miles, it shouldn't take too long, should it?” said Lavaeolus, radiating anxiety like a lighthouse. “Oh.” Rincewind looked at the man's face. Ten years, he thought. And all kinds of weird

stuff with winged wossnames and sea-monsters. On the other hand, would it do him any

good to know? “You get home okay,” he said. “You're well known for it, in fact. There's whole legends about you going home.”

“Phew.” Lavaeolus leaned against a hull, took off his helmet and wiped his forehead. “That's a load off my mind, I'll tell you. I was afraid the gods might have a grudge against me.”

Rincewind said nothing. “They get a bit angry if you go around thinking up ideas like wooden horses and tunnels,” said Lavaeolus. "they're traditionalists, you know. They prefer people just to

hack at one another. I thought, you see, that if I could show people how to get what they wanted more easily they'd stop being so bloody stupid.“ From further along the shoreline came the sound of male voices raised in song: ” - vestal virgins, Came down from Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenos, And when the

ball was over, There were - “ ”It never works," said Rincewind.

“It's got to be worth a try, though. Hasn't it?” “Oh, yes.” Lavaeolus slapped him on the back. “Cheer up,” he said. “Things can only get better.” They walked out into the dark breakers where Lavaeolus' ship was riding at anchor, and

Rincewind watched him swim out and climb aboard. After a while the oars were shipped, or unshipped, or whatever they called it when they were stuck through the holes in the sides, and the boat moved slowly out into the bay.

A few voices floated back over the surf. “Point the pointed end that way, sergeant.” “Aye, aye, sir!” "And don't shout. Did I tell you to shout? Why do you all have to shout? Now I'm going

downstairs for a lie down.“ Rincewind trudged back up the beach. ”The trouble is,“ he said, ”is that things never get

better, they just say the same, only more so. But he's going to have enough to worry about.“ Behind him, Eric blew his nose. ”That was the saddest thing I've ever heard," he said. From further along the beach the Ephebian and Tsortean armies were still in full voice

around their convivial campfires. “ - the village harpy she was there - ” “Come on,” said Rincewind. “Let's go home.” “You know the funny thing about his name?” said Eric, as they strolled along the sand. “No. what do you mean?”

“Lavaeolus means `Rinser of winds`.”