Sourcery

didn’t seem to be any black-clad slavers around, at least vertically. There were a good many crew members, all of them maintaining a respectful distance from Conina. Only the captain stood reasonably close, an inane grin on his face.
    “They left,” said Conina. “Took what they could and left.”
    “They bastards,” said the captain, “but they paddle pretty fast!” Conina winced as he gave her a ringing slap on the back. “She fight real good for a lady,” he added. “Yes!”
    Rincewind got unsteadily to his feet. The boat was scudding along cheerfully toward a distant smear on the horizon that had to be hubward Klatch. He was totally unharmed. He began to cheer up a bit.
    The captain gave them both a hearty nod and hurried off to shout orders connected with sails and ropes and things. Conina sat down on the Luggage, which didn’t seem to object.
    “He said he’s so grateful he’ll take us all the way to Al Khali,” she said.
    “I thought that’s what we arranged anyway,” said Rincewind. “I saw you give him money, and everything.”
    “Yes, but he was planning to overpower us and sell me as a slave when he got there.”
    “What, not sell me?” said Rincewind, and then snorted, “Of course, it’s the wizard’s robes, he wouldn’t dare—”
    “Um. Actually, he said he’d have to give you away,” said Conina, picking intently at an imaginary splinter on the Luggage’s lid.
    “ Give me away?”
    “Yes. Um. Sort of like, one free wizard with every concubine sold? Um.”
    “I don’t see what vegetables have got to do with it.”
    Conina gave him a long, hard stare, and when he didn’t break into a smile she sighed and said, “Why are you wizards always nervous around women?”
    Rincewind bridled at this slur. “I like that!” he said, “I’ll have you know that—look, anyway, the point is, I get along very well with women in general, it’s just women with swords that upset me.” He considered this for a while, and added, “Everyone with swords upset me, if it comes to that.”
    Conina picked industriously at the splinter. The Luggage gave a contented creak.
    “I know something else that’ll upset you,” she muttered.
    “Hmmm?”
    “The hat’s gone.”
    “What?”
    “I couldn’t help it, they just grabbed whatever they could—”
    “The slavers have made off with the hat?”
    “Don’t you take that tone with me! I wasn’t having a quiet sleep at the time—”
    Rincewind waved his hands frantically. “Nonono, don’t get excited, I wasn’t taking any tone—I want to think about this…”
    “The captain says they’ll probably go back to Al Khali,” he heard Conina say. “There’s a place where the criminal element hang out, and we can soon—”
    “I don’t see why we have to do anything,” said Rincewind. “The hat wanted to keep out the way of the University, and I shouldn’t think those slavers ever drop in there for a quick sherry.”
    “You’ll let them run off with it?” said Conina, in genuine astonishment.
    “Well, someone’s got to do it. The way I see it, why me?”
    “But you said it’s the symbol of wizardry! What wizards all aspire to! You can’t just let it go like that!”
    “You watch me.” Rincewind sat back. He felt oddly surprised. He was making a decision. It was his. It belonged to him. No-one was forcing him to make it. Sometimes it seemed that his entire life consisted of getting into trouble because of what other people wanted, but this time he’d made a decision and that was that. He’d get off the boat at Al Khali and find some way of going home. Someone else could save the world, and he wished them luck. He’d made a decision.
    His brow furrowed. Why didn’t he feel happy about it?
    Because it’s the wrong bloody decision, you idiot.
    Right, he thought, I’ve had enough voices in my head. Out.
    But I belong here.
    You mean you’re me?
    Your conscience.
    Oh.
    You can’t let the hat be destroyed. It’s the symbol…
    …all right, I know…
    …the symbol of magic under the Lore. Magic under the control of mankind. You don’t want to go back to those dark Ians…
    …What?…
    Ians…
    Do I mean aeons?
    Right. Aeons. Go back aeons to the time when raw magic ruled. The whole framework of reality trembled daily. It was pretty terrible, I can tell me.
    How do I know?
    Racial memory.
    Gosh. Have I got one of those?
    Well. A part of one.
    Yes, all right, but why me?
    In your soul you know you are a true