George Inness Pond at Milton on the Hudson

George Inness Pond at Milton on the HudsonGeorge Inness Passing CloudsGeorge Inness End of DayGeorge Inness Early Moonrise Florida
Trymon glared at him.
'The other Orders are searching all the lands between here and the Hub,' he continued, counting the points on his fingers, 'because it seems unreasonable that a man can fly into a cloud and not come out . . .'
'Unless it was stuffed with rocks,' said the astrologer, in a wretched and, as it turned out, entirely unsuccessful attempt to lighten the mood.
'But come down he must – somewhere. Where? we ask ourselves.'
'Where?' said the astrologer loyally.
'And immediately a course of action suggests itself to us.'
'Ah,' said .
'Right! And therefore all we need do is cast Rincewind's precise horoscope and we will know exactly where he is!'
The astrologer grinned like a man who, having tap-danced on quicksand, feels the press of solid rock under his feet.
'I shall need to know his precise place and time of birth,' he said.the astrologer, running in an attempt to keep up as the wizard stalked across The Two Fat Cousins.'And that course is . . .?'The astrologer looked up into two eyes as grey and bland as steel.'Um. We stop looking?' he ventured.'Precisely! We use the gifts the Creator has given us, to whit, we look down and what is it we see?'The astrologer groaned inwardly. He looked down.'Tiles?' he hazarded.'Tiles, yes, which together make up the . . .?' Trymon looked expectant.'Zodiac?' ventured the astrologer, a desperate man