The Last Hero

The remains of the Kite were the subject of keen but uncomprehending interest among the deitic classes. They weren't certain what it was, but they definitely disapproved of it.

‘I feel,’ said Blind Io, ‘that if we had wanted people to fly, we would have given them wings.’

‘We allow broomthtickth and magic carpeth,’ said Offler.

‘Ah, but they're magical. Magic… religion… there is a certain association. This is an attempt to subvert the natural order. Just anyone could float around the place in one of these things.’ He shuddered. ‘Men could look down upon their gods!’

He looked down upon Leonard of Quirm.

‘Why did you do it?’ he said.

‘You gave me wings when you showed me birds,’ said Leonard of Quirm. ‘I just made what I saw.’

The rest of the gods said nothing. Like many professionally religious people – and they were pretty professional, being gods – they tended towards unease in the presence of the unashamedly spiritual.

‘None of us recognise you as a worshipper,’ said Io. ‘Are you an atheist?’

‘I think I can say that I definitely believe in the gods,’ said Leonard, looking around. This seemed to satisfy everyone except Fate.

‘And is that all?’ he said. Leonard thought for a while.

‘I think I believe in the secret geometries, and the colours on the edge of light, and the marvellous in everything,’ he said.

‘So you're not a religious man, then?’ said Blind Io.

‘I am a painter.’

‘That's a “no”, then, is it? I want to be clear on this.’

‘Er… I don't understand the question,’ said Leonard. ‘As you ask it.’

‘I don't think we understand the answers,’ said Fate. ‘As you give them.’

‘But I suppose we owe you something,’ said Blind Io. ‘Never let it be said the gods are unjust.’

‘We don't let it be said the gods are unjust,’ said Fate. ‘If I may suggest—’

‘Will you be silent!’ Blind Io thundered. ‘We'll do it the old way, thank you!’

He turned to the explorers and pointed a finger at Leonard.

‘Your penalty,’ said Blind Io, ‘is this: you will paint the ceiling of the Temple of Small Gods in Ankh-Morpork. All of it. The decoration is in a terrible state.’

‘But that's not fair,’ said Carrot. ‘He's not a young man, and it took the great Angelino Tweebsly twenty years to paint that ceiling!’

‘Then it will keep his mind occupied,’ said Fate. ‘And prevent him thinking the wrong sort of thoughts. That is the correct punishment for those who usurp the powers of the gods! We will find work for idle hands to do.’

‘Hmm,’ said Leonard. ‘A considerable amount of scaffolding…’

‘Vatht amounth,’ said Offler, with satisfaction.

‘And the nature of the painting?’ said Leonard. ‘I would like to paint…’

‘The entire world.’ said Fate. ‘Nothing less.’

‘Really? I was thinking of perhaps just a nice duck-egg blue with a few stars,’ said Blind Io.

‘The entire world,’ said Leonard, staring off into some private vision. ‘With elephants, and dragons, and the swirl of clouds, and mighty forests, and the currents of the sea, and birds, and the great yellow veldts, and the pattern of storms, and the crests of mountains?’

‘Er, yes,’ said Blind Io.

‘Without assistance,’ said Fate.

‘Even with the thcaffolding,’ said Offler.

‘This is monstrous,’ said Carrot.

Blind Io said: ‘And if it is not completed in twenty years—’

‘—ten years,’ said Fate.

‘—ten years, the city of Ankh-Morpork will be razed with heavenly fire!’

‘Hmm, yes, good idea,’ said Leonard, still staring at nothing. ‘Some of the birds will have to be quite small…’

‘He's in shock,’ said Rincewind.

Captain Carrot had gone quiet with anger, as the sky does just before a thunderstorm.

‘Tell me,’ said Blind Io. ‘Is there a god of policemen?’

‘No, sir,’ said Carrot. ‘Coppers would be far too suspicious of anyone calling themselves a god of policemen to believe in one.’

‘But you are a gods-fearing man?’

‘What I've seen of them certainly frightens the life out of me, sir. And my commander always says, when we go about our business in the city, that when you look at the state of mankind you are forced to accept the reality of the gods.’

The gods smiled their approval of this, which was indeed an accurate quotation. Gods have little use for irony.

‘Very good,’ said Blind Io. ‘And you have a request?’

‘Sir?’

‘Everyone wants something from the gods.’

‘No, sir. I offer you an opportunity.’

‘You will give something to us?’

‘Yes, sir. A wonderful opportunity to show justice and mercy. I ask you, sir, to grant me a boon.’

There was silence. Then Blind Io said, ‘Is that one of those… wooden objects, wasn't it?… with a handle, and… mmm… beads on one side, and a sort of… thing, with hooks on…’ He paused. ‘Did you mean one of those rubber things?’

‘No, sir. That would be a balloon, sir. A boon is a request.’

‘Is that all? Oh. Well?’

‘Allow the Kite to be repaired so that we can go home—’

‘Impossible!’ said Fate.

‘It sounds reasonable to me,’ said Blind Io, glaring at Fate. ‘It must be its last flight.’

‘It will be the last flight of the Kite, won't it?’ said Carrot to Leonard.