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'This way!' said Rincewind, pointing along the street.
'It must be very popular. That's where everyone's going.'
'I wonder why?' said Twoflower.
'Somehow,' said Rincewind, 'I don't think it's to enroll for evening classes.'
In fact Unseen University was under siege, or at least those parts of it that extruded into the usual, everyday dimensions were under siege. The crowds outside its gates were, generally, making one of two demands. They were demanding that either a) the wizards should stop messing about and get rid of the star or, and this was the demand favoured by the star people, that b) they should cease all magic and commit suicide in good order, thus ridding the Disc of the curse of magic and warding off the terrible threat in the sky.
The wizards on the other side of the walls had no idea how to do a) and no intention of doing b) and many had in fact plumped for c), which largely consisted of nipping out of hidden side doors and having it away on their toes as far as possible, if not faster.
What reliable magic still remained in the University was being channelled into keeping the great gates secure. The wizards were learning that while it was all very fine and impressive to have a set of gates that were locked by magic, it ought to have occurred to the builders to include some sort of emergency back-up device such as, for example, a pair of ordinary, unimpressive stout iron bolts.
In the square outside the gates several large bonfires had been lit, for effect as much as anything else, because the heat from the star was scorching.
'But you can still see the stars,' said Twoflower, 'the ther stars, I mean. The little ones. In a black sky.'
Rincewind ignored him. He was looking at the gates. A group of star people and citizens were trying to batter them down.
'It's hopeless,' said Bethan. 'We'll never get in. Where are you going?'
'For a walk,' said Rincewind. He was setting off determinedly down a side street.
There were one or two freelance rioters here, mostly engaged in wrecking shops. Rincewind took no notice, but followed the wall until it ran parallel to a dark alley that had the usual unfortunate smell of all alleys, everywhere.
Then he started looking very closely at the stonework. The wall here was twenty feet high, and topped with cruel metal spikes.
'I need a knife,' he said.
'You're going to cut your way through?' said Bethan.
'Just find me a knife,' said Rincewind. He started to tap stones.
Twoflower and Bethan looked at each other, and shrugged. A few minutes later they returned with a selection of knives, and Twoflower had even managed to find a sword.
'We just helped ourselves,' said Bethan.
'But we left some money,' said Twoflower. 'I mean, we would have left some money, if we'd had any —'
'So he insisted on writing a note,' said Bethan wearily.
Twoflower drew himself up to his full height, which was hardly worth it.
'I see no reason—' he began, stiffly.
'Yes, yes,' said Bethan, sitting down glumly. 'I know you don't. Rincewind, all the shops have been smashed open, there was a whole bunch of people across the street helping themselves to musical instruments, can you believe that?'
'Yeah,' said Rincewind, picking up a knife and testing its blade thoughtfully. 'Luters, I expect.'
He thrust the blade into the wall, twisted it, and stepped ack as a heavy stone fell out. He looked up, counting under his breath, and levered another stone from its socket.
'How did you do that?' said Twoflower.
'Just give me a leg up, will you?' said Rincewind. A moment later, his feet wedged into the holes he had created, he was making further steps halfway up the wall.
'It's been like this for centuries,' his voice floated down. 'Some of the stones haven't got any mOrtar. Secret entrance, see? Watch out below.'
Another stone cracked into the cobbles.
