Read Online The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page A

gods by developing, for a god, a certain amount of wisdom.
    Besides, Nuggan was one of the newer gods, all full of hellfire and self-importance and ambition . Offler was not bright, but he had some vague inkling that for long-term survival gods needed to offer their worshippers something more than a mere lack of thunderbolts. And he felt an ungodlike pang of sympathy for any human whose god banned chocolate and garlic. Anyway, Nuggan had an unpleasant moustache. No god had any business with a fussy little moustache like that.
    "No," he said, shaking the dice box. "It'll add to the run."
    Cohen pinched out the end of his ragged cigarette, stuffed it behind his ear, and looked up at the green ice.
    "It's not too late to turn back," said Evil Harry. "If anyone wanted to, I mean."
    "Yes it is," said Cohen, without looking around. "Besides, someone's not playing fair."
    "Funny, really," said Vena. "All my life I've gone adventuring with old maps found in old tombs and so on, and I never ever worried about where they came from. It's one of those things you never think about, like who leaves all the weapons and keys and medicine kits lying around in the unexplored dungeons."
    "Someone be setting a trap," said Boy Willie.
    "Probably. Won't be the first trap I've walked into," said Cohen.
    "We're going up against the gods, Cohen," said Harry. "A man does that, a man's got to be sure of his luck."
    "Mine's worked up to now," said Cohen. He reached out and touched the rock face in front of him. "It's warm."
    "But it's got ice on!" said Harry.
    "Yeah. Strange, eh?" said Cohen. "It's just like the scrolls said. And see the way the snow's sticking to it? It's the magic. Well... here goes..."
    Archchancellor Ridcully decided that the crew needed to be trained. Ponder Stibbons pointed out that they were going into the completely unexpected, and Ridcully ruled therefore that they should be given some unexpected training.
    Rincewind, on the other hand, said that they were heading for certain death, which everyone managed eventually with no training whatsoever .
    Later he said that Leonard's device would do, though. After five minutes on it, certain death seemed like a release.
    "He's thrown up again ," said the Dean.
    "He's getting better at it, though," said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
    "How can you say that? Last time it was a whole ten seconds before he let go!"
    "Yes, but he's throwing up more, and it's going further," said the Chair as they strolled away.
    The Dean looked up. It was hard to see the flying device in the shadows of the tarpaulin-covered barge. Sheets were spread over the more interesting bits. There were strong smells of glue and varnish. The Librarian, who tended to get involved in things, was hanging peacefully from a spar and hammering wooden pegs into a plank.
    "It'll be balloons, you mark my words," said the Dean. "I've got a mental picture. Balloons and sails and rigging and so on. Probably an anchor, too. Fanciful stuff."
    "Over in the Agatean Empire they have kites big enough to carry men," said the Chair.
    "Perhaps he's just building a bigger kite, then."
    In the distance Leonard of Quirm was sitting in a pool of light, sketching. Occasionally he'd hand a page to a waiting apprentice, who would hurry away.
    "Did you see the design he came up with yesterday?" said the Dean. "Had this idea that they might have to get outside the machine to repair it so — so he designed a sort of device to let you fly around with a dragon on your back! Said it was for emergencies!"
    "What kind of emergency would be worse than having a dragon strapped to your back?" said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
    "Exactly! The man lives in an ivory tower!"
    "Does he? I thought Vetinari had him locked up in some attic."
    "Well. I mean, years of that is going to give a man a very limited vision, in my humble opinion. Nothing much to do but tick the days off on the wall."
    "They say he paints good pictures," said the Chair.
    "Well, pictures