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For a moment his eyes looked up at Rincewind in fear, pain and entreaty. Then they weren't eyes at all, but multi-faceted things on a head that could be called a head only by stretching the definition to its limits. Tentacles both hands clasped together into one fist that caught the thing in the stomach, or possibly the thorax, with a blow that ended in the satisfying crunch of chitin.
He plunged forward, fighting now out of terror of what would happen if he stopped. The ghostly arena was full of and saw-edged legs and talons unfolded to rip Rincewind's rather sparse flesh from his body.Twoflower, the tower and the red sky all vanished. Time ran slowly, and stopped.Rincewind bit hard on a tentacle that was trying to pull his face off. As it uncoiled in agony he thrust out a hand and felt it break something hot and squishy.They were watching. He turned his head, and saw that now he was fighting on the floor of an enormous amphitheatre. On each side tier upon tier of creatures stared down at him, creatures with bodies and faces that appeared to have been made by crossbreeding nightmares. He caught a glimpse of even worse things behind him, huge shadows that stretched into the overcast sky, before the Trymon-monster lunged at him with a barbed sting the size of a spear.Rincewind dodged sideways, and then swung around with
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