Sourcery

to get them. Wizards know it.
    The little wizard was wearing the psychic equivalent of three feet of tempered steel and it was being melted like butter under a blowlamp. It streamed away, vanished.
    If there are words to describe what happened to the wizard next then they’re imprisoned inside a wild thesaurus in the Unseen University Library. Perhaps it’s best left to the imagination, except that anyone able to imagine the kind of shape that Rincewind saw writhing painfully for a few seconds before it mercifully vanished must be a candidate for the famous white canvas blazer with the optional long sleeves.
    “ So perish all enemies ,” said Abrim.
    He turned his face up to the heights of the tower.
    “ I challenge ,” he said. “ And those who will not face me must follow me, according to the Lore .”
    There was a long, thick pause caused by a lot of people listening very hard. Eventually, from the top of the tower, a voice called out uncertainly, “Whereabouts in the Lore?”
    “ I embody the Lore .”
    There was a distant whispering and then the same voice called out, “The Lore is dead. Sourcery is above the Lo—”
    The sentence ended in a scream because Abrim raised his left hand and sent a thin beam of green light in the precise direction of the speaker.
    It was at about this moment that Rincewind realized that he could move his limbs himself. The hat had temporarily lost interest in them. He glanced sideways at Conina. In instant, unspoken agreement they each grasped one of Nijel’s arms and turned and ran, and didn’t stop until they’d put several walls between them and the tower. Rincewind ran expecting something to hit him in the back of the neck. Possibly the world.
    All three landed in the rubble and lay there panting.
    “You needn’t have done that,” muttered Nijel. “I was just getting ready to really give him a seeing-to. How can I ever—”
    There was an explosion behind them and shafts of multi-colored fire screamed overhead, striking sparks off the masonry. Then there was a sound like an enormous cork being pulled out of a small bottle, and a peal of laughter that, somehow, wasn’t very amusing. The ground shook.
    “What’s going on?” said Conina.
    “Magical war,” said Rincewind.
    “Is that good?”
    “No.”
    “But surely you want wizardry to triumph?” said Nijel.
    Rincewind shrugged, and ducked as something unseen and big whirred overhead making a noise like a partridge.
    “I’ve never seen wizards fight,” said Nijel. He started to scramble up the rubble and screamed as Conina grabbed him by the leg.
    “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said. “Rincewind?”
    The wizard shook his head gloomily, and picked up a pebble. He tossed it up above the ruined wall, where it turned into a small blue teapot. It smashed when it hit the ground.
    “The spells react with one another,” he said. “There’s no telling what they’ll do.”
    “But we’re safe behind this wall?” said Conina.
    Rincewind brightened a bit. “Are we?” he said.
    “I was asking you.”
    “Oh. No. I shouldn’t think so. It’s just ordinary stone. The right spell and…phooey.”
    “Phooey?”
    “Right.”
    “Shall we run away again?”
    “It’s worth a try.”
    They made it to another upright wall a few seconds before a randomly spitting ball of yellow fire landed where they had been lying and turned the ground into something awful. The whole area around the tower was a tornado of sparkling air.
    “We need a plan,” said Nijel.
    “We could try running again,” said Rincewind.
    “That doesn’t solve anything!”
    “Solves most things,” said Rincewind.
    “How far do we have to go to be safe?” said Conina.
    Rincewind risked a look around the wall.
    “Interesting philosophical question,” he said. “I’ve been a long way, and I’ve never been safe.”
    Conina sighed and stared at a pile of rubble nearby. She stared at it again. There was something odd there, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
    “I could rush at them,” said Nijel, vaguely. He stared yearningly at Conina’s back.
    “Wouldn’t work,” said Rincewind. “Nothing works against magic. Except stronger magic. And then the only thing that beats stronger magic is even stronger magic. And next thing you know…”
    “Phooey?” suggested Nijel.
    “It happened before,” said Rincewind. “Went on for thousands of years until not a—”
    “Do you know what’s odd about