Eric

Page 3

 

  “All that?” said Rincewind. “Yes. ” “Oh, no problem,” said Rincewind sarcastically. "And then I get to have the rest of the

  day off, right?“ ”And I want a chest full of gold, too. Just to be going on with. “ ”I can see youve got it all thought out. “ ”Yes. Avaunt!“ ”Right, right. Only -" Rincewind thought hurriedly, hes quite mad, but mad with a

  sword in his hands, the only chance Ive got is to argue him out of it on his own terms,“ -only, dyou see, Im not a very superior kind of demon and Im afraid those sort of errands are a bit out of my league, sorry. You can avaunt as much as you like, but theyre just beyond me. ”

  The little figure peered over the top of its glasses.

  “I see,” he said testily. “What could you manage then, do you think?”

  “Well, er -” said Rincewind, “I suppose I could go down to the shops and get a packet of mints, or something. ”

  There was a pause.

  “You really cant do all those things?”

  “Sorry. Look Ill tell you what. You just release me, and Ill be sure to pass the word around when I get back to -” Rincewind hesitated. Where the hell did demons live, anyway? “Demon City,” he said hopefully.

  “You mean Pandemonium?” said his captor suspiciously.

  “Yes, thats right. Thats what I meant. Ill tell everyone, next time youre in the real world be sure and look up - whats your name?”

  “Thursley. Eric Thursley. ”

  “Right”

  “Demonologist. Midden Lane, Pseudopolis. Next door to the tannery,” said Thursley hopefully.

  “Right you are. Dont you worry about it. Now, if youll just let me out -”

  Thursleys face fell.

  “Youre sure you really cant do it?” he said, and Rincewind couldnt help noticing the edge of pleading in his voice. “Even a small chest of gold would do. And, I mean, it neednt be the most beautiful woman in the whole of history. Second most beautiful would do. Or third. You pick any one out of, you know, the top one hundr - thousand. Whatever youve got in stock, sort of thing. ” By the end of the sentence his voice twanged with longing.

  Rincewind wanted to say: Look, what you should do is stop all this messing around with chemicals in dark rooms and have a shave, a haircut, a bath, make that two baths, buy yourself a new wardrobe and get out of an evening and then - but hed have to be honest, because even washed, shaved and soaked in body splash Thursley wasnt going to win any prizes - and then you could have your face slapped by any woman of your choice.

  I mean, it wouldnt be much, but it would be body contact.

  “Sorry,” he said again.

  Thursley sighed. “The kettles on,” he said. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  Rincewind stepped forward into a crackle of psychic energy.

  “Ah,” said Thursley uncertainly, as the wizard sucked his fingers, “Ill tell you what. Ill put you under a conjuration of duress. ”

  “Theres no need, I assure you. ”

  “No, its best this way. It means you can move around. I had it all ready anyway, in case you could go and fetch, you know, her. ”

  “Fine,” said Rincewind. As the demonologist mumbled words from the book he thought: Feet. Door. Stairs. What a great combination.

  It occurred to him that there was something about the demonologist that wasnt quite usual, but he couldnt put his finger on it. He looked pretty much like the demonologists Rincewind had known back in Ankh-Morpork, who were all bent and chemical-stained and had eyes with pupils like pinheads from all the chemical fumes. This one would have fitted in easily. It was just that there was something odd.

  “To be honest,” said Thursley, industriously mopping away part of the circle, “youre my first demon. Its never worked before. What is your name?”

  “Rincewind. ”

  Thursley thought about this. “It doesnt ring a bell,” he said. “Theres a Riinjswin in the Demonologie. And a Winswin. But theyve got more wings than you. You can step out now. I must say thats a first-class materialisation. No-one would think you were a fiend, to look at you. Most demons, when they want to look human, materialise in the shape of nobles, kings and princes. This moth-eaten-wizard look is very clever. You couldve almost fooled me. Its a shame you cant do any of those things. ”

  “I cant see why youd want to live for ever,” said Rincewind, privately determining that the words “moth-eaten” would be paid for, if ever he got the opportunity. “Being young again, I can understand that. ”

  “Huh. Being youngs not much fun,” said Thursley, and then clapped his hand over his

  mouth.

  Rincewind leaned forward.

  About fifty years. That was what was missing.

  “Thats a false beard!” he said. “How old are you?”

  “Eighty-seven!” squeaked Thursley.

  “I can see the hooks over your ears!”

  “Seventy-eight, honest! Avaunt!”

  “Youre a little boy!”

  Eric pulled himself up haughtily. “Im not!” he snapped. “Im nearly fourteen!”

  “Ah-ha!” The boy waved the sword at Rincewind. “It doesnt matter, anyway!” he shouted. “Demonologists can be any age, youre still my demon and you have to do as I say!”

  “Eric!” came a voice from somewhere below them.

  Erics face went white.

  “Yes, mother?” he shouted, his eyes fixed on Rincewind. His mouth shaped the words:

  dont say anything, please. “Whats all that noise up there?” “Nothing, mother!” “Come down and wash your hands, dear, your breakfasts ready!” “Yes, mother. ” He looked sheepishly at Rincewind. “Thats my mother,” he said.

  “Shes got a good pair of lungs, hasnt she,” said Rincewind.

  “Id, Id better go, then,” said Eric. “Youll have to stay up here, of course. ”

  It dawned on him that he was losing a certain amount of credibility at this point. He waved the sword again.

  “Avaunt!” he said. “I command you not to leave this room!”

  “Right. Sure,” said Rincewind, eyeing the windows.

  “Promise? Otherwise youll be sent back to the Pit. ”

  “Oh, I dont want that,” said Rincewind. “Off you trot. Dont worry about me. ”

  “Im going to leave the sword and stuff here,” said Eric, removing most of his accoutrements to reveal a slim, dark-haired young man whose face would be a lot better when his acne cleared up. “If you touch them, terrible things will befall. ”

  “Wouldnt dream of it,” said Rincewind.

  When he was left alone he wandered he wandered over to the lectern and looked at the book. The title, in impressively flickering red letters, was Mallificarum Sumpta Diabolicite Occularis Singularum, the Book of Ultimate Control. He knew about it. There was a copy in the Library somewhere, although wizards never bothered with it.

  This might seem odd, because if there is one thing a wizard would trade his grandfather for, it is power. But it wasnt all that strange, because any wizard bright enough to survive for five minutes was also bright enough to realise that if there was any power in demonology, then it lay with the demons. Using it for your own purposes would be like trying to beat mice to death with a rattlesnake.

  Even wizards thought demonologists were odd; they tended to be surreptitious, pale men who got up to complicated things in darkened rooms and had damp, weak handshakes. It wasnt like good clean magic. No self-respecting wizard would have any truck with the demonic regions, whose inhabitants were as big a collection of ding-dong as youd find outside a large belfry.

  He inspected the skeleton closely, just in case. It didnt seem inclined to make a contribution to the situation.

  “It belonged to his wossname, grandfather,” said a cracked voice behind him “Bit of an unusual bequest,” said Rincewind. "Oh, not personally. He got it in a shop somewhere. Its one of them wossname,

  articulate wossnames. "

&
nbsp; “Its not saying much right now,” said Rincewind, and then went very quiet and thoughtful. “Er,” he said, without moving his head, “what, precisely, am I talking to?” “Im a wossname. Tip of my tongue. Begins with a P. ” Rincewind turned around slowly. “Youre a parrot?” he said. “Thats it. ” Rincewind stared at the thing on the perch. It had one eye that glittered like a ruby. Most

  of the rest of it was pink and purple skin, studded with the fag-ends of feathers, so that the net effect was of an oven-ready hairbrush. It jiggled arthritically on its perch and then slowly lost its balance, until it was hanging upside down.

  “I thought you were stuffed,” said Rincewind. “Up yours, wizard. ” Rincewind ignored it and crept over to the window. It was small, but gave out on to a

  gently sloping roof. And out there was a real life, real sky, real buildings. He reached out to open the shutters A crackling current coursed up his arm and earthed itself in his cerebellum.

  He sat on the floor, sucking his fingers. “He tole you,” said the parrot, swinging backwards and forwards upside down. “But you wouldnt wossname. Hes got you by the wossnames. ”

  “But it should only work on demons!”

  “Ah,” said the parrot, achieving enough momentum to swing upright again, whereupon it steadied itself with the stubby remains of what had once been wings. “Its all according, isnt it. If you come in the door marked `wossnames` that means you get treated as a wossname, right? Demon, I mean. Subject to all the rules and wossnames. Tough one for you. ”

  “But you know Im a wizard, dont you!”

  The parrot gave a squawk. “Ive seen em, mate. The real McWossname. Some of the ones weve had in here, theyd make you choke on your millet. Great scaly fiery wossnames. Took weeks to get the soot off the walls,” it added, in an approving tone of voice. “That was in his granddads day, of course. The kid hasnt been any good at it. Up to now. Bright lad. I blame the wossnames, parents. New money, you know. Wine business. Spoil him rotten, let him play with his wossnames old stuff, `Oh, hes such an intelligent lad, nose always in a book`,” the parrot mimicked. “They never give him any of the things a sensitive growing wossname really needs, if you was to ask me. ”

  “What you mean love and guidance?” said Rincewind.

  I was thinking of a bloody good wossname, thrashing," said the parrot.

  Rincewind clutched at his aching head. If this was what demons usually had to go through, no wonder they were always so annoyed.

  “Polly want a biscuit,” said the parrot vaguely, in much the same way as a human would say “Er” or “As I was saying”, and went on, “His granddad was keen on it. That and his pigeons. ”

  “Pigeons,” said Rincewind

  “Not that he was particularly successful. It was all a bit trial and wossname. ”

  "I thought you said great big scaly

  “Oh, yes. But that wasnt what he was after. He was trying to conjure up a succubus. ” It should be impossible to leer when all youve got is a beak, but the parrot managed it. “Thats a female demon what comes in the night and makes mad passionate wossn -”