AN: Thanks once more to all readers - reviewers and lurkers. Sorry about the delay for this chapter - I missed out on the U2 tickets howl of rage and sorrow and have been pretty depressed about that. Ah well.
Phantomscyther: Thank you, I'll try.
Adalia Glenys: Thanks, I'm expecting the Visit thing to come up in a future book after GP so bunged it in here. And it wasn't the Ringwraiths I had in mind when I put Reg in there. :P
Beka JWP: Oo indeed. Thanks!

Chapter Eight: Stolen Jewellery

Ponder Stibbons gaped at the space in front of the Omniscope which had, until just now, contained Nobby Nobbs.
Of course, Archchancellor Ridcully had chosen the moment just before that to come check on the situation. This is true of all bosses in the multiverse. They only turn up when something goes wrong and it's your fault.

"Stibbons!" he roared, from the other side of the hall. "I thought you said we wouldn't be having any more... accidents," he finished darkly.
"I don't know what happened," gaped Ponder, "he just disappeared."
"I thought they had to empty their minds," said Ridcully.
"And concentrate on the place," Ponder whined.
"Empty his mind?" exclaimed Reg, absentmindedly waving his ear. "Somehow, I don't think that'll present much of a problem for Nobby."
"Brotherhood, Constable Shoe," said Visit in his serene voice, but it was tinged with reproof. "Although he did seem quite intent upon that - inappropriately-named looking glass."
"Yes," said Ponder, who was determined to remain in the conversation," the ring."
"Oh," the Watchmen chorused gently, as if this explained it all.
"Nobby is... quite the connoisseur when it comes to jewellery," said Visit diplomatically.
Reg snorted. "Especially when it's not his."

And then it was just Nobby and the circle of gold in his hand; the world around him simply faded from stone hall to lush forest, like a dream sequence in a big-budget music video. Fawning over the little piece of stolen jewellery, he barely noticed the change... for about five seconds.

"Master?" A curly head appeared among the trees. "Why're you screaming? Is it... the Ring?" The voice had lowered to a near-whisper for that last bit; Nobby could tell that the ring merited a capital.
Nobby took in huge hairy feet, under a body that looked pretty normal, but scaled down to half size. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, then closed his fist on the ring. "No, I'm all right, er-" he said at last.

Sam

"-Sam." Who said that?
"You know what Faramir said: there are dangerous folk in this land."
"Yes, Sam," said Nobby. There suddenly seemed to be a lot of Sams in this place, if he'd heard Angua correctly. Through the keyhole, of course.
And now there was someone eavesdropping on Nobby's own thoughts. The hunter hunted and all that.

Then he shrieked. "It's grown back!" he cried, staring at his bare feet, which were maybe an inch or two closer than usual. "It's finally grown- my BOOTS!"

"Mister Vimes?" said Carrot. They were nearing the top of the cliff: there was indeed an open space, with one semicircular wall - the mountainside - and on the side, a drop of up to 20 feet down to the topmost level of the wall.
"Right now, Carrot, I'm not sure." The armour was quite heavy.
There was a pause.
"I'm not either, sir," he said uncertainly. "That's what I was going to ask you."
"You're not certain that I'm me or you're not certain that you're Carrot?"
"The first one, sir. I think."
"And why's that?"
Carrot took a deep breath, but hesitated. "Because if I glance at you, I see someone else. It's only when I focus that it's you."

Vimes sighed and stopped, and patted a pocket that wasn't there for a cigar case in another dimension. "Damn. It seems like I've stepped into someone else's shoes-" again, he added silently, resuming his pace, "-and I don't even know where to begin looking for my son."
Carrot nodded.
"You saw that Omniscope. It crossed at least a thousand miles between that eye and Sam."
"A few thousand, I should think," said Carrot, who was more familiar with long-distance travel.
"Well, it would help if we knew where the hell we are now, and how far away that bloody eye is."
"Fiery, sir, not bloody."
"I know what I meant."

Carrot hunched his shoulders andstuck his hands in his trouser pockets (he'd kept his Watch uniform, Vimes jealously noted). Then he cried out,withdrew them and sucked one hand. There was blood on it.

"Carrot!"said a small voice in his pocket.

Vetinari stretched in the seat by the throne. He'd set the entire City Guard to work on the walls. About two-thirds were on the perimeter walls - impressive though they were, Vetinari's crisp thoughts had told him that they would never hold - to buy them some more time to repair the city's defenses.

It's a waste of time, you know.

It's more than you did.

They're beyond repair.

And whose fault is that, exactly?

What are you trying to imply?

You complain about the futility of resistance, but what have you done to even the odds?

I've-

You have betrayed the duty that gives you the chance to hide behind the strongest defences in the land. You have no right to be here.

Nor do you.

It was a fair point, and not one that Vetinari planned on disputing. He had better things to do.Here, at last, was a challenge.