Eric

"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'."

Rincewind looked at him.

"He's my ancestor?" he said.

"Who knows?" said Eric.

"Oh. Gosh." Rincewind thought about this. "Well, I whish I'd told him to avoid getting married. Or visiting Ankh-Morpork."

"It probably isn't even built yet..."

Rincewind tried snapping his fingers.

This time it worked.

Astfgl sat back. He wondered what did happen to Lavaeolus.

Gods and demons, being creatures outside of time, don't move in it like bubbles in the stream. Everything happens at the same time for them. This should mean they know everything that is going to happen because, in a sense, it already has. The reason they don't is that reality is a big place with a lot of interesting things going on, and keeping track of all of them is like trying to use a very big video recorder with no freeze button or tape counter. It's usually easier just to wait and see.

One day he'd have to go and look.

Right here and now, insofar as the words can be employed about an outside of space and time, matters were not progressing well. Eric seemed marginally more likeable, which wasn't acceptable. He also appeared to have changed the course of history, although this is impossible since the only thing you can do to the course of history is facilitate it.

What was needed was something climactic. Something really soul-destroying.

The Demon King realised he was twirling his moustaches.

The trouble with snapping your fingers is that you never knew what it would lead to...

Everything around Rincewind was black. It wasn't simply an absence of colour. It was a darkness that flatly denied any possibility that colour might ever have existed.

His feet weren't touching anything, and he appeared to be floating. There was something else missing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Are you there, Eric?" he ventured.

A clear voice nearby said: "Yes. Are you there, demon?"

"Ye-ess."

"Where are we? Are we falling?"

"I don't think so," said Rincewind, speaking from experience. "There's no rushing wind. You get a rushing wind when you're falling. Also your past life flashes before your eyes, and I haven't seen anything I recognise yet."

"Rincewind?"

"Yes?"

"When I open my mouth no sounds come out."

"Don't be - " Rincewind hesitated. He wasn't making any sound either. He knew what he was saying, it just wasn't reaching the outside world. But he could hear Eric. Perhaps the words just gave up on his ears and went straight to his brains.

"It's probably some kind of magic, or something," he said. "There's no air. That's why there no sound. All the little bits of air sort of knock together, like marbles. That's how you get sound, you know."

"Is it? Gosh."

"So we're surrounded by absolutely nothing," said Rincewind. "Total nothing." He hesitated. "There's a word for it," he said. "It's what you get when there's nothing left and everything's been used up."

"Yes. I think it's called the bill," said Eric.

Rincewind gave this some thought. It sounded about right. "Okay," he said. "The bill. That's where we are. Floating in absolute bill. Total, complete, rock-hard bill."