Read Online Sourcery by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page B

her.
    You must not return to the University , growled the hat from the depths of its box. Rincewind nodded distractedly. The idea certainly didn’t seem attractive.
    â€˜Anyway, they don’t allow women inside after dark,’ he said.
    â€˜And before dark?’
    â€˜Not then, either.’
    Conina sighed. ‘That’s silly. What have you wizards got against women, then?’
    Rincewind’s brow wrinkled. ‘We’re not supposed to put anything against women,’ he said. ‘That’s the whole point.’
    Sinister grey mists rolled through the docks of Morpork, dripping from the rigging, coiling around the drunken rooftops, lurking in alleys. The docks at night were thought by some to be even more dangerous than the Shades. Two muggers, a sneak thief and someone who had merely tapped Conina on the shoulder to ask her the time had already found this out.
    â€˜Do you mind if I ask you a question?’ said Rincewind, stepping over the luckless pedestrian who lay coiled around his private pain.
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜I mean, I wouldn’t like to cause offence.’
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜It’s just that I can’t help noticing—’
    â€˜Hmmm?’
    â€˜You have this certain way with strangers.’ Rincewind ducked, but nothing happened.
    â€˜What are you doing down there?’ said Conina, testily.
    â€˜Sorry.’
    â€˜I know what you’re thinking. I can’t help it, I take after my father.’
    â€˜Who was he, then? Cohen the Barbarian?’ Rincewind grinned to show it was a joke. At least, his lips moved in a desperate crescent.
    â€˜No need to laugh about it, wizard.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜It’s not my fault.’
    Rincewind’s lips moved soundlessly. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Have I got this right? Your father really is Cohen the Barbarian ?’
    â€˜Yes.’ The girl scowled at Rincewind. ‘Everyone has to have a father,’ she added. ‘Even you, I imagine.’
    She peered around a corner.
    â€˜All clear. Come on,’ she said, and then when they were striding along the damp cobbles she continued: ‘I expect your father was a wizard, probably.’
    â€˜I shouldn’t think so,’ said Rincewind. ‘Wizardry isn’t allowed to run in families.’ He paused. He knew Cohen, he’d even been a guest at one of his weddings when he married a girl of Conina’s age; you could say this about Cohen, he crammed every hour full of minutes. ‘A lot of people would like to take after Cohen, I mean, he was the best fighter, the greatest thief, he—’
    â€˜A lot of men would,’ Conina snapped. She leaned against a wall and glared at him.
    â€˜Listen,’ she said. ‘There’s this long word, see, an old witch told me about it . . . can’t remember it . . . you wizards know about long words.’
    Rincewind thought about long words. ‘Marmalade?’ he volunteered.
    She shook her head irritably. ‘It means you take after your parents.’
    Rincewind frowned. He wasn’t too good on the subject of parents.
    â€˜Kleptomania? Recidivist?’ he hazarded.
    â€˜Begins with an H.’
    â€˜Hedonism?’ said Rincewind desperately.
    â€˜ Herrydeterry ,’ said Conina. ‘This witch explained it to me. My mother was a temple dancer for some mad god or other, and father rescued her, and – they stayed together for a while. They say I get my looks and figure from her.’
    â€˜And very good they are, too,’ said Rincewind, with hopeless gallantry.
    She blushed. ‘Yes, well, but from him I got sinews you could moor a boat with, reflexes like a snake on a hot tin, a terrible urge to steal things and this dreadful sensation every time I meet someone that I should be throwing a knife through his eye at ninety feet. I can, too,’ she added with a trace of pride.
    â€˜Gosh.’
    â€˜It tends