Last Continent Read Online Free PDF

anything can.
    And eyes watched him from the nearby water-hole. They were not the tiny eyes of the swarming beetles and tadpoles that made a careful examination of every handful he drank a vital gastronomic precaution. These were far older eyes, and currently without any physical component.
    For weeks a man whose ability to find water was limited to checking if his feet were wet had survived in this oven-ready country by falling into water-holes. A man who thought of spiders as harmless little creatures had experienced only a couple of nasty shocks when, by now, this approach should have left him with arms the size of beer barrels that glowed in the dark. The man had even hit the seashore once and paddled in a little way to look at the pretty blue jellyfish, and it was all the watcher could do to see that he got a mere light sting which ceased to be agonizing after only a few days.
    The waterhole bubbled and the ground trembled as if, despite the cloudless sky, there was a storm somewhere.
     
    Now it was three o’clock in the morning. Ridcully was good at doing without other people’s sleep.
    Unseen University was much bigger on the inside.Thousands of years as the leading establishment of practical magic in a world where dimensions were largely a matter of chance in any case had left it bulging in places where it shouldn’t have places. There were rooms containing rooms which, if you entered them, turned out to contain the room you’d started with, which can be a problem if you are in a conga line.
    And because it was so big it could afford to have an almost unlimited number of staff on the premises. Tenure was automatic or, more accurately, nonexistent. You found an empty room, turned up for meals as usual, and generally no one noticed, although if you were unfortunate you might attract students. And if you looked hard enough in some of the outlying regions of the University, you could find an expert on anything .
    You could even find an expert on finding an expert. The Professor of Recondite Architecture and Origami Map Folding had been woken up, been introduced to the Archchancellor, who had never set eyes on him before, and had produced a map of the University which would probably be accurate for the next few days and looked rather like a chrysanthemum in the act of exploding.
    Finally, the wizards reached a door and Ridcully glared at the brass plate on it as if it had just been cheeky to him.
    “‘Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography,’” he said. “This looks like the one.”
    “We must have walked miles ,” said the Dean, leaning against the wall. “I don’t recognize any of this.”
    Ridcully glanced around. The walls were stone but had at some time been painted in that very special institutional green that you get when an almost-finished cup of coffee is left standing for a couple of weeks. There was a board covered in balding and darker green felt on which had been optimistically thumbtacked the word “Notices.” But from the looks of it there had never been any notices and never would be, ever. There was a smell of ancient dinners.
    Ridcully shrugged, and knocked on the door.
    “I don’t remember him,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
    “I think I do,” said the Dean. “Not a very promising boy. Had ears. Don’t often see him around, though. Always has a suntan. Odd, that.”
    “He’s on the staff. If anyone knows anything about geography, he’s our man.” Ridcully knocked again.
    “Perhaps he’s out,” said the Dean. “That’s where you mostly get geography, outside.”
    Ridcully pointed to a little wooden device by the door. There was one outside every wizard’s study. It consisted of a little sliding panel in a frame. Currently it was revealing the word “ IN ” and, presumably, was covering the word “ OUT ,” although you could never be sure with some wizards. *
    The Dean tried to slide the panel. It refused to budge.
    “He must come out sometimes ,”