Reaper Man

Windle saw the Dean's hand float past with something glittering in it.

"What are you going to use?" said Ridcully, as the trolley rocketed through the steam. "The Seismic Reorganiser, the Attractive Point or the Incendiary Surprise?"

"Yo, " said the Dean, with satisfaction.

"What, all three at once?"

"Yo!"

"That's going a bit far, isn't it? And incidentally, if you say "yo" one more time, Dean, I will personally have you thrown out of the University, pursued to the rim of the world by the finest demons that thaumaturgy can conjure up, torn into extremely small pieces, minced, turned into a mixture reminiscent of steak tartare, and turned out into a dog bowl."

"Y –" The Dean caught Ridcully's eye. "Yes. Yes? Oh, go on, Archchancellor. What's the good of having mastery over cosmic balance and knowing the secrets of fate if you can't blow something up? Please? I've got them all ready. You know how it upsets the inventory if you don't use them after you've got them ready -"

The trolley whirred up a trembling slope and cornered on two wheels.

"Oh, all right," said Ridcully. "If it means that much to you."

"Y - sorry."

The Dean started to mutter urgently under his breath, and then screamed.

"I've gone blind!"

"Your bonsai bandage has slipped over your eyes, Dean. " Windle groaned.

"How are you feeling, brother Poons?" Reg Shoe's ravaged features occluded Windle's view.

"Oh, you know, " said Windle. "Could be better, could be worse."

The trolley ricocheted off a wall and jerked away in another direction.

"How are those spells coming along, Dean?" said Ridcully, through gritted teeth. "I'm having real difficulties controlling this thing."

The Dean muttered a few more words, and then waved his hands dramatically. Octarine flame spurted from his fingertips and earthed itself somewhere in the mists.

"Yee-haw!" he crowed.

"Dean?"

"Yes, Archchancellor?"

"The comment I made recently about the Y-word..."

"Yes? Yes?"

"You can definitely include Yee-haw, too."

The Dean hung his head.

"Oh. Yes. Archchancellor."

"And why hasn't everythin' gone boom?"

"I put a slight delay on it, Archchancellor. I thought perhaps we ought to get out before things happened."

"Good thinking, that man."

"Soon have you out, Windle," said Reg Shoe. ‘We don't leave our people in there. Isn't this -"

And then the floor erupted ahead of them.

And then, behind them.

The thing that arose from the shattered tiles was either formless or many forms at once. It writhed angrily, snapping its tubing at them.

The trolley skewed to a halt.

"Got any more magic, Dean?"

"Er... no, Archchancellor."

"And the spells you just said will go off... ?"

"Any second now, Archchancellor."

"So... whatever's going to happen... is going to happen to us?"

"Yes, Archchancellor."

Ridcully patted Windle on the head.

"Sorry about this," he said.

Windle turned awkwardly to look down the passageway.

There was something behind the Queen. It looked like a perfectly ordinary bedroom door, advancing in a series of small steps, as though someone was carefully pushing it along in front of them.

"What is it?" said Reg.

Windle raised himself as far as he could.

"Schleppel!"

"Oh, come on," said Reg.

"It's Schleppel!" shouted Windle. ‘Schleppel! It's us! Can you help us out?"

The door paused. Then it was flung aside.

Schleppel unfolded himself to his full height.

"Hallo, Mr. Poons. Hallo, Reg," he said.

They stared at the hairy shape that nearly filled the passageway.

"Er, Schleppel... er... could you clear the way for us?" Windle quavered.

"No problem, Mr. Poons. Anything for a friend."

A hand the size of a wheelbarrow glided through the steam and tore into the blockage, ripping it out with incredible ease.

"Hey, look at me!" said Schleppel. "You're right. A bogeyman needs a door like a fish needs a bicycle! Say it now and say it loud, I'm -"

"And now could you get out of the way, please?"

"Sure. Sure. Wow!" Schleppel took another swipe at the Queen.

The trolley shot forward.

"And you'd better come with us!" Windle shouted, as Schleppel disappeared in the mists.

"No he shouldn't," said the Archchancellor, as they sped along. "Believe me. What was it?"

"He's a bogeyman," said Windle.

"I thought you only get them in closets and things?" shouted Ridcully.

"He's come out of the closet," said Reg Shoe proudly. "And he's found himself."

"Just so long as we can lose him."

"We can't just leave him -"

"We can! We can!" snapped Ridcully.

There was a sound behind them like an eruption of swamp gas. Green light streamed past.

"The spells are starting to go off!" shouted the Dean. ‘"Move it!"

The trolley whirred out of the entrance and soared up into the cool of the night, wheels screaming.

"Yo!" bellowed Ridcully, as the crowd scattered ahead of them.

"Does that mean I can say yo too?" said the Dean.

"All right. Just once. Everyone can say it just once."

"Yo!"

"Yo!" echoed Reg Shoe.

"Oook!"

"Yo!" said Windle Poons.

"Yo!" said Schleppel.