Sergeant Colon turned the object around and around in his hands.
“Never seen one of these before,” he said. He gave it a shake. His face lit up. “Pretty, ain’t they?”
“The door was locked and everything,” said Throat. “And I’m paid up with the Thieves’ Guild.”
Colon shook the thing again.
“Nice,” he said.
“Fred?”
Colon, fascinated, watched the little snowflakes fall inside the tiny glass globe. “Hmm?”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Dunno. I suppose they’re yours, Throat. Can’t imagine why anyone’d want to get rid of ’em, though.”
He turned toward the door. Throat stepped into his path.
“Then that’ll be twelve pence,” he said smoothly.
“What?”
“For the one you just put in your pocket, Fred.”
> Colon fished the globe out of his pocket.
“Come on!” he protested. “You just found them here! They didn’t cost you a penny!”
“Yes, but there’s storage…packing…handling…”
“Tuppence,” said Colon desperately.
“Tenpence.”
“Threepence.”
“Sevenpence—and that’s cutting my own throat, mark you.”
“Done,” said the sergeant, reluctantly. He gave the globe another shake.
“Nice, ain’t they?” he said.
“Worth every penny,” said Dibbler. He rubbed his hands together hopefully. “Should sell like hot cakes,” he said, picking up a handful and shoving them into a box.
He locked the door behind them when they left.
In the darkness something went plop.
Ankh-Morpork has always had a fine tradition of welcoming people of all races, colors and shapes, if they have money to spend and a return ticket.
According to the Guild of Merchants’ famous publication, Wellcome to Ankh-Morporke, Citie of One Thousand Surprises, “you the visitor will be assured of a Warm Wellcome in the countles Ins and hostelries of this Ancient Citie, where many specialize in catoring for the taste of guest from distant part. So if you a Manne, Trolle, Dwarfe, Goblin or Gnomm, Annk-Morporke will raise your Glass convivial and say: Cheer! Here looking, you Kid! Up, You Bottom!”
Windle Poons didn’t know where undead went for a good time. All he knew, and he knew it for a certainty, was that if they could have a good time anywhere then they could probably have it in Ankh-Morpork.
His labored footsteps led him deeper into the Shades. Only they weren’t so labored now.
For more than a century Windle Poons had lived inside the walls of Unseen University. In terms of accumulated years, he may have lived a long time. In terms of experience, he was about thirteen.