She had to admit, ten minutes later, that Trev had been right. She probablywouldn’t have noticed the door on the other side of another cluttered,abandoned cellar. Light shone from under the door.

‘I followed ’im once,’ said Trev. ‘Everyone should have a place to call theirown.’

‘Yes,’ said Glenda, and she pushed open the door. She might as well have openedan oven. There were candles of every size and every colour and many of themwere burning.

And in the middle of it was Nutt, sitting behind a ramshackle table, which wascovered with candles. In front of him they burned in every colour. He wasstaring at them with a blank expression, and did not look up as theyapproached. ‘You know, I fear that I will never really get the hang of blue,’he said, as if to the air. ‘Orange, of course, is ridiculously easy and redgoes without saying and green is not difficult at all, but the best blue Icould achieve, I have to admit, is very largely green… ’ His voice trailed off.

‘Are you all right?’ said Glenda.

‘Do you mean, am I all right apart from being an orc?’ said Nutt, with a verysmall smile.

‘Well, yes, but that’s not really your fault.’

‘It can’t really be true, can it?’ said Trev.

Glenda turned on him.

‘What good is it saying that?’ she said.

‘Well, they were supposed to have died out hundreds of years ago.’

‘Annihilated,’ said Nutt. ‘But some survived. I fear that when this oversightis revealed, there will be those who will endeavour to rectify the situation.’

Trev looked blankly at Glenda. ‘He means he thinks they’re going to try to killhim,’ she said.

Nutt stared at his candles. ‘I must accumulate worth. I must be helpful. I mustbe friendly. I must make friends.’

‘If anyone comes to hurt you,’ said Glenda, ‘I will kill them. I’m sure youwon’t try to pull a leg off, but I might. Trev, this needs a woman’s touch.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’

‘That wasn’t clever, Trev Likely. No, Mister Nutt, you stay there,’ saidGlenda, dragging Trev and Juliet back out into the corridor. ‘Off you go, Iwant to talk to him alone.’

Nutt hung his head as she stepped back in. ‘I’m sorry I’m spoiling it foreveryone,’ he said.

‘What’s happened to your claws, Mister Nutt?’

He stretched out his arm and with a faint noise the claws extended.

‘Oh, well, that’s convenient,’ said Glenda. ‘At least that means you can changeyour shirt.’

She thumped the table so the candles jumped. ‘And now, get up!’ she screamed.‘You are supposed to be training the team, Mister Nutt, don’t you remember?You’re supposed to be going out there and showing them how to play thefootball!’

‘I must accumulate worth,’ said Nutt, staring at the candles.

‘Then train the team, Mister Nutt! How can you be so certain that the orcs werethat bad in any case?’

‘We did terrible things.’

‘They,’ said Glenda. ‘They, not we, not you. And one thing I am certain of isthat in a war no one is going to say that the other side is made up of verynice people. Now, how about you just run along to training? How hard can itbe?’

‘You saw what happened,’ said Nutt. ‘It could be very bad indeed.’ He picked upa nearly blue candle. ‘I must think.’

‘Okay,’ said Glenda.

She shut the door carefully behind her, walked a little way along the corridorand looked up at the dripping pipes. ‘I know someone is listening. I could hearthe creaking pipes. Come out right now.’

There was no reply. She shrugged and then hurried along the labyrinth until shereached the steps to the Library, ran up them and headed for the Librarian’sdesk.

As she approached it, his big grinning face appeared above it.

‘I want—’ she began.

The Librarian rose slowly, put a finger to his lips and placed a book on thetable in front of her. The three-letter title, silver on black, was ORC.

He looked her up and down, as if trying to reach a conclusion, then opened thebook, and turned the pages with exquisite care, given the thickness of thosefingers, until he found the page he had been looking for. He held it up infront of her. There had been no time for breakfast today, but it’s stillpossible to throw up when there’s nothing left to throw. And if you needed tovomit, the woodcut held up beneath the Librarian’s hands would be a sure-firemedicine.

He put the book down on the desktop, reached down again and produced a barelyused handkerchief and, after some rummaging around, a glass of water.

‘I don’t have to believe that,’ said Glenda. ‘It’s a drawing. It’s not real.’

The Librarian’s thumb went up and he nodded. He put the book under one arm andgrabbed her with another and led her with surprising speed out of the door intothe great maze of halls and corridors of the university.

Their breathless journey finished in front of a door on which was painted‘Department of Post-Mortem Communications’. The paint, however, had peeledsomewhat and under the bright new title could just be made out the letters NECRand what could possibly be one half of a skull.

The door opened–any door pushed by the Librarian would assuredly open. Glendaheard the clink of the catch falling on to the floor inside.

In the middle of the floor that was revealed stood a hideous figure. Itshorrifying countenance had less than the effect it might have done, becausefrom it dangled a quite readable label that said ‘Boffo Novelty and JokeEmporium. Improved Necromancer’s Mask. Sale Price AM$3’. This was removed toreveal the more salubrious countenance of Dr Hix.

‘There really is no need to—’ he said, and then spotted the Librarian. ‘Oh, canI help you?’

The Librarian held up the book and Dr Hix groaned. ‘That again,’ he said. ‘Allright, what do you want?’

‘We’ve got an orc down in the cellars,’ said Glenda.

‘Yes, I know,’ said Dr Hix.

The Librarian had a big face, but it nevertheless was not large enough toaccommodate all of the surprise he wished to show. The head of the Departmentof Post-Mortem Communications shrugged and sighed. ‘Look,’ he said, as if wearyof having to explain so often, and sighed again. ‘I am supposed to be the badperson as defined by university statute, right? I am supposed to listen atdoors. Supposed to dabble in the black arts. I’ve got the skull ring. I’ve gotthe staff with the silver skull on it—’

‘And a joke-shop mask?’ said Glenda.

‘Quite serviceable as a matter of fact,’ said Hix, haughtily. ‘Rather morefrightening than the original thing and washable, which is always aconsideration in this department. Anyway, the Archchancellor was down hereweeks ago, after the same stuff you are, I very much imagine.’

‘Were the orcs terrible creatures?’ said Glenda.

‘I think I can probably show you,’ said Hix.

‘This gentleman has already shown me the picture in the book,’ said Glenda.

‘Was it the one with the eyeballs?’

Glenda found the memory only too vivid. ‘Yes!’

‘Oh, there’s worse than that,’ said Hix happily. ‘And I suppose you want theproof?’ He half turned his head. ‘Charlie?’ A skeleton walked out through blackcurtains at the far end of the room. It was holding a mug. There was somethingcuriously depressing about the slogan on said mug, which ran: ‘Necromancers DoIt All Night’.

‘Don’t be scared,’ said Dr Hix.

‘I’m not,’ Glenda said, terrified to her insteps. ‘I’ve seen the insides of aslaughterhouse. It’s part of the job and, anyway, he’s polished.’

‘Thank you very much,’ the skeleton articulated.

‘But “Necromancers Do It All Night”? That’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it? I mean,don’t you think it’s trying a bit too hard?’

‘It was hard enough to get that one made,’ said Dr Hix. ‘We’re not the mostpopular department in the university. Charlie, the young lady wants to knowabout orcs.’

‘Again?’ said the skeleton, handing the mug to the doctor. It had a ratherhoarse voice, but on the whole far less dreadful than it might have been. Apartfrom anything else, his bones were, well, apart from anything else, and floatedin the air as if they were the only visible parts of an invisible body. The jawmoved as Charlie went on: ‘Well, I think we’ve still got the memory in the sump’cos, you remember, we called it up for Ridcully. I haven’t got round to wipingit yet.’