They saw things in the dark. Things that roared without sound. Things that grabbed at the mind with clumsy hands. No amount of closing their eyes or turning away could stop the images from coming until the cold chill of madness sent all those in the square into welcome unconsciousness.
There were seventeen minds that kept conscious, however. The sixteen mirrored golems and a man who could see in the dark. There was a creak and an almighty snap as in the blackness 'The Colour of Magick' was trapped between Octiron teeth.
The dark light began to lighten and lift. Vimes watched as it thinned and he could see the bodies on the ground, out for the count but thankfully breathing. Like an errant storm cloud the blackness rose upward and as it did there was a rumbling. This time not on the ground but in the sky above; thunder. The Commander looked up to see a flash of lightning hit old Tom setting its silent ringing off again once more. The clock struck thirteen, the heavens opened and rain came down in sheets.
Slowly and rather wetly the occupants of Sator Square started to come to, confusion replaced by relief that they weren't dead after all. Otto got to his feet and sought out Lily who was struggling to get to her own. She grabbed onto him. "Where's Mr Dulling?" she asked.
As the heavy rain fell, drumming down onto the overturned filters they dashed to the base of the clock tower, but Commander Vimes was already there, knelt beside the Orc.
"Is he?..." she began, tears mingling with the rain running down her face.
Vimes looked down at the stricken Orc, pale and drawn but also drawing breath, albeit shallow. He placed his hands on Dulling's shoulders, gently shaking him and the young man opened his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the Commander, "I'm sorry…"
"It wasn't you lad," Vimes said reassuringly. "The damned book is shut for good now." With Otto's help they eased Dulling up into a sitting position. The Orc blinked away the rain still looking quite dazed, then he frowned.
"What's wrong Mr Dulling?" Lily asked, concerned.
He turned his face upward appearing to look through her, "I…I can't see."
###
THE END OF THE
RAINBOW
The Colour Killer is no more we can happily report to our loyal readership. It's a good job too because if the daring plan of the Watch, Wizards and our friends at Flach and Chriek had failed, there would no longer be a loyal readership or much of anything else.
There are some aspects of the plan to foil 'O Day' we are unable to reveal. Even the free press knows when it's best to be a little less free, but suffice to say you don't really need to know. And for the sake of the unfortunate fellow who had been possessed by the magical tome, 'The Colour of Magick', we feel it is best we keep his identity a secret. We strive for the truth here at the Times but occasionally the truth hurts.
The dangerous book has now been placed under strict quarantine at Unseen University's library. The Librarian had this to say, "OOK! EEK!" Make of that what you will, but I for one am left feeling reassured.
Sator Square is currently under repairs due to some significant cobble movement and is still out of use. We are told that it will be 'ready when it's bloody ready, now bugger off back to Gleam Street with your notebook'. Interestingly, Saturday's freak storm ended with a rather spectacular rainbow and we note that two days on, it's still there. Some very good views of the phenomenon can be had from the Clacks Towers, some of which are welcoming visitors for a fee. For those less accustomed to heights please enjoy the full colour poster in our centre pages courtesy of Head Iconographer Otto Chriek. More on this story pages 2,4,5,6 and 7.
###
As soon as Visiting Hours at the Lady Sybil Free Hospital began, either Lily or Otto or both would be there to spend time with Mr Dulling, but today they found someone had beaten them to it. A pretty young thing was stroking and holding his hand and for the first time Lily and Otto saw the Orc smile.
His blindness, being magically induced, might possibly be reversed but three weeks since 'O Day' and he still couldn't see a thing. It was heart-breaking given how much he loved iconography but now could no longer look at the images he made. Lily had made it clear he was still very much a part of Team Pictsie and once recuperated they expected him back in the store. "After all, you're the only one who knows exactly where all my stock is!"
Daysee was chattering away about her latest set of pictures, but far from it being insensitive she took great pains to describe them in high-detail so that even if he couldn't see them with his eyes, he could with his mind. Lily and Otto left knowing he was in good hands.
###
In the Cemetery of Small Gods, Legitimate 'Leggy' First walked the incredibly narrow pathways between gravestones, a shovel slung over one shoulder. There was now one spot in amongst the graves that was very different from the others, in the very centre of the plots.
At first Leggy was not entirely convinced at the Patrician's idea. Space in the Cemetery was at a premium to the point where 30 years was the maximum anyone could be interred before their bones were literally moved on. In the end though, it was a right and fitting tribute to all those that died at the hands of the 'Colour Killer'.
The seven filters stood in a circle, a space left to represent Octarine which mourners could walk through. Lord Muck, Arthur Albertine, the Forgesson brothers, all those that died were honoured here and the smallest body, yet with the biggest stone, lay in the very middle.
Constable Forrest had come to pay his respects. He arrived at the same time every day; ten minutes past twelve. As the sun hit the filters at just the right angle the circle was filled with colour and it was beautiful. The promise to Pinky had been kept and would not be forgotten.
###
The Pictsie Mark 2 was beyond repair and Otto and Lily had decided for the time being that no more would be made. Knowing ones future was dark business indeed. 'Turning of the Cogs' kept work on the Mark 3 to herself. It was going to be a long-term project and some of the materials she required were not readily available unless you wore a pointy hat.
Otto and Lily sat in the dark room together, their favourite place. It was where their own particular brand of magic happened. "Are you ready?" Otto asked. Lily nodded. "Go on, dear." He twisted the lamp a quarter of an inch and a sliver of light hit the table.
Slowly, the imps crept out from their iconographs and boxes. They had brought as many of them as they could together. At least a hundred of the tiny grey creatures gathered on the table top around the light. At first a huddled mass then they dropped to their tiny knees. When they got up again they held hands and made a series of concentric circles. They danced, sending the circles turning. It was spellbinding.
Then the light faded and as before, what seemed like an age ago, the imps broke free and returned to their boxes.
"Zose are zer patterns in light." Otto whispered reverently. "Zey see zer light, zey still see vot is really zere."
"The light of life…"
"You're zer light of my life," Otto countered, placing an arm around her, smiling. She smiled back contentedly.
###
Light and dark, day and night, the Disc turned and the turtle moved. At the edge of the world the rimbows sparkled and no-one stood. Just as it should be.
###
Acknowledgements
Well it's done, until I decide to go back over the whole thing and edit it yet again! There are several people I'd like to thank for their support, encouragement, feedback, suggestions and superior knowledge of the comma; Quartermaster 01733, Virtuella, Rosa Hutchison, Katherine Mitchell, Alana Marshall, Adi Hartmann, Beth Livermore, Dave Little, Karen Rowland, Chico Kidd, Jennifer Mordie, Richard Manning, Raymond Daley, Russell Bushby, Adam Gilpin. Finally, I need to thank Sir Terry Pratchett who created the world that I took a brief holiday in. It was wonderful to play with your characters and keep them alive as they always will be in our minds and hearts. May the turtle keep moving!