Sourcery

then?”
    “The non-killing kind.”
    “It was the way they looked at them as if it just didn’t matter—” said Nijel, shaking his head. “That was the worst bit.”
    “Yes.”
    Rincewind dropped the single syllable heavily in front of Nijel’s train of thought, like a tree trunk. The boy shuddered, but at least he shut up. Rincewind actually began to feel sorry for him, which was very unusual—he normally felt he needed all his pity for himself.
    “Is that the first time you’ve seen someone killed?” he said.
    “Yes.”
    “Exactly how long have you been a barbarian hero?”
    “Er. What year is this?”
    Rincewind peered around a corner, but such people as were around and vertical were far too busy panicking to bother about them.

“Out on the road, then?” he said quietly. “Lost track of time? I know how it is. This is the Year of the Hyena.”
    “Oh. In that case, about—” Nijel’s lips moved soundlessly—“about three days. Look,” he added quickly, “how can people kill like that? Without even thinking about it?”
    “I don’t know,” said Rincewind, in a tone of voice that suggested he was thinking about it.
    “I mean, even when the vizier had me thrown in the snake pit, at least he seemed to be taking an interest.”
    “That’s good. Everyone should have an interest.”
    “I mean, he even laughed!”
    “Ah. A sense of humor, too.”
    Rincewind felt that he could see his future with the same crystal clarity that a man falling off a cliff sees the ground, and for much the same reason. So when Nijel said: “They just pointed their fingers without so much as—,” Rincewind snapped: “Just shut up, will you? How do you think I feel about it? I’m a wizard, too!”
    “Yes, well, you’ll be all right then,” muttered Nijel.
    It wasn’t a heavy blow, because even in a rage Rincewind still had muscles like tapioca, but it caught the side of Nijel’s head and knocked him down more by the weight of surprise than its intrinsic energy.
    “Yes, I’m a wizard all right,” Rincewind hissed. “A wizard who isn’t much good at magic! I’ve managed to survive up till now by not being important enough to die! And when all wizards are hated and feared, exactly how long do you think I’ll last?”
    “That’s ridiculous!”
    Rincewind couldn’t have been more taken aback if Nijel had struck him.
    “What?”
    “Idiot! All you have to do is stop wearing that silly robe and get rid of that daft had and no one will even know you’re a wizard!”
    Rincewind’s mouth opened and shut a few times as he gave a very lifelike impression of a goldfish trying to grasp the concept of tap-dancing.
    “Stop wearing the robe?” he said.
    “Sure. All those tatty sequins and things, it’s a total giveaway,” said Nijel, struggling to his feet.
    “Get rid of the hat?”
    “You’ve got to admit that going around with ‘wizzard’ written on it is a bit of a heavy hint.”
    Rincewind gave him a worried grin.
    “Sorry,” he said, “I don’t quite follow you—”
    “Just get rid of them. It’s easy enough, isn’t it? Just drop them somewhere and then you could be a, a, well, whatever. Something that isn’t a wizard.”
    There was a pause, broken only by the distant sounds of fighting.
    “Er,” said Rincewind, and shook his head. “You’ve lost me there…”
    “Good grief, it’s perfectly simple to understand!”
    “…not sure I quite catch your drift…” murmured Rincewind, his face ghastly with sweat.
    “You can just stop being a wizard .”
    Rincewind’s lips moved soundlessly as he replayed every word, one at a time, then all at once.
    “What?” he said, and then he said, “Oh.”
    “Got it? Want to try it one more time?”
    Rincewind nodded gloomily.
    “I don’t think you understand. A wizard isn’t what you do , it’s what you are . If I wasn’t a wizard, I wouldn’t be anything .” He took off his hat and twiddled nervously with the loose star on its point, causing a few more cheap sequins to part company.
    “I mean, it’s got wizard written on my hat,” he said. “It’s very important—”
    He stopped and stared at the hat.
    “Hat,” he said vaguely, aware of some importunate memory pressing its nose up against the windows of his mind.
    “It’s a good hat,” said Nijel, who felt that something was expected of him.
    “Hat,” said Rincewind again, and then added, “the hat! We’ve got to get the hat!”
    “You’ve got the hat,”