Read Online Soul Music by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Terry Pratchett
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fantasy, Discworld (Imaginary place), Fantasy:Humour, Fantasy - General, Fantasy - Series, Wizards, Discworld (Imaginary place) - Fiction, Death (Fictitious character : Pratchett), Rock Music
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little. I always used to say that, when I was alive.”
“When was that, exactly?”
“Can’t remember. I think I was pretty knowledgeable. Probably a teacher or philosopher, something of that kidney. And now I’m on a bench with a bird crapping on my head.”
“Very allegorical,” said the raven.
No one had taught Susan about the power of belief, or at least about the power of belief in a combination of high magical potential and low reality stability such as existed on the Discworld.
Belief makes a hollow place. Something has to roll in to fill it.
Which is not to say that belief denies logic. For example, it’s fairly obvious that the Sandman needs only a small sack.
On the Discworld, he doesn’t bother to take the sand out first.
It was almost midnight.
Susan crept into the stables. She was one of those people who will not leave a loose thread unpulled or a mystery unsolved.
The ponies were silent in the presence of Binky. The horse glowed in the darkness.
Susan heaved a saddle down from the rack, and then thought better of it. If she was going to fall off, a saddle wouldn’t be any help. And reins would be about as much use as a rudder on a rock.
She opened the door to the loose box. Most horses won’t walk backward voluntarily, because what they can’t see doesn’t exist.
But Binky shuffled out by himself and walked over to the mounting block, where he turned and watched her expectantly.
Susan climbed onto his back. It was like sitting on a table.
“All right,” she whispered. “I don’t have to believe any of this, mind you.”
Binky lowered his head and whinnied. Then he trotted out into the yard and headed for the field. At the gate he broke into a canter, and turned toward the fence.
Susan shut her eyes.
She felt muscles bunch under the velvet skin and then the horse was rising, over the fence, over the field.
Behind it, in the turf, two fiery hoofprints burned for a second or two.
As she passed above the school she saw a light flicker in a window. Miss Butts was on her rounds.
There’s going to be trouble over this , Susan told herself.
And then she thought: I’m on the back of a horse a hundred feet up in the air, being taken somewhere mysterious that’s a bit like a magic land with goblins and talking animals. There’s only so much more trouble I could get into…
Besides, is riding a flying horse against school rules? I bet it’s not written down anywhere .
Quirm vanished behind her, and the world opened up in a pattern of darkness and moonlight silver. A checkerboard pattern of fields strobed by in the moonlight, with the occasional light of an isolated farm. Ragged clouds whipped past and away.
Away on her left the Ramtop Mountains were a cold white wall. On her right, the Rim Ocean carried a pathway to the moon. There was no wind, or even a great sensation of speed—just the land flashing by, and the long slow strides of Binky.
And then someone spilled gold on the night. Clouds parted in front of her and there, spread below, was Ankh-Morpork—a city containing more Peril than even Miss Butts could imagine.
Torchlight outlined a pattern of streets into which Quirm would have not only been lost, but mugged and pushed into the river as well.
Binky cantered easily over the rooftops. Susan could hear the sounds of the streets, even individual voices, but there was also the great roar of the city, like some kind of insect hive. Upper windows drifted by, each one a glow of candlelight.
The horse dropped through the smoky air and landed neatly and at the trot in an alley, which was otherwise empty except for a closed door and a sign with a torch over it.
Susan read:
CURRY GARDENS
K ITCHREN E NTLANCE —K EEP O UT . R IS M EANS Y OU .
Binky seemed to be waiting for something.
Susan had expected a more exotic destination.
She knew about curry. They had curry at school, under the name of Bogey and Rice. It was yellow. There were soggy raisins and peas in
“When was that, exactly?”
“Can’t remember. I think I was pretty knowledgeable. Probably a teacher or philosopher, something of that kidney. And now I’m on a bench with a bird crapping on my head.”
“Very allegorical,” said the raven.
No one had taught Susan about the power of belief, or at least about the power of belief in a combination of high magical potential and low reality stability such as existed on the Discworld.
Belief makes a hollow place. Something has to roll in to fill it.
Which is not to say that belief denies logic. For example, it’s fairly obvious that the Sandman needs only a small sack.
On the Discworld, he doesn’t bother to take the sand out first.
It was almost midnight.
Susan crept into the stables. She was one of those people who will not leave a loose thread unpulled or a mystery unsolved.
The ponies were silent in the presence of Binky. The horse glowed in the darkness.
Susan heaved a saddle down from the rack, and then thought better of it. If she was going to fall off, a saddle wouldn’t be any help. And reins would be about as much use as a rudder on a rock.
She opened the door to the loose box. Most horses won’t walk backward voluntarily, because what they can’t see doesn’t exist.
But Binky shuffled out by himself and walked over to the mounting block, where he turned and watched her expectantly.
Susan climbed onto his back. It was like sitting on a table.
“All right,” she whispered. “I don’t have to believe any of this, mind you.”
Binky lowered his head and whinnied. Then he trotted out into the yard and headed for the field. At the gate he broke into a canter, and turned toward the fence.
Susan shut her eyes.
She felt muscles bunch under the velvet skin and then the horse was rising, over the fence, over the field.
Behind it, in the turf, two fiery hoofprints burned for a second or two.
As she passed above the school she saw a light flicker in a window. Miss Butts was on her rounds.
There’s going to be trouble over this , Susan told herself.
And then she thought: I’m on the back of a horse a hundred feet up in the air, being taken somewhere mysterious that’s a bit like a magic land with goblins and talking animals. There’s only so much more trouble I could get into…
Besides, is riding a flying horse against school rules? I bet it’s not written down anywhere .
Quirm vanished behind her, and the world opened up in a pattern of darkness and moonlight silver. A checkerboard pattern of fields strobed by in the moonlight, with the occasional light of an isolated farm. Ragged clouds whipped past and away.
Away on her left the Ramtop Mountains were a cold white wall. On her right, the Rim Ocean carried a pathway to the moon. There was no wind, or even a great sensation of speed—just the land flashing by, and the long slow strides of Binky.
And then someone spilled gold on the night. Clouds parted in front of her and there, spread below, was Ankh-Morpork—a city containing more Peril than even Miss Butts could imagine.
Torchlight outlined a pattern of streets into which Quirm would have not only been lost, but mugged and pushed into the river as well.
Binky cantered easily over the rooftops. Susan could hear the sounds of the streets, even individual voices, but there was also the great roar of the city, like some kind of insect hive. Upper windows drifted by, each one a glow of candlelight.
The horse dropped through the smoky air and landed neatly and at the trot in an alley, which was otherwise empty except for a closed door and a sign with a torch over it.
Susan read:
CURRY GARDENS
K ITCHREN E NTLANCE —K EEP O UT . R IS M EANS Y OU .
Binky seemed to be waiting for something.
Susan had expected a more exotic destination.
She knew about curry. They had curry at school, under the name of Bogey and Rice. It was yellow. There were soggy raisins and peas in
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