The Color of Magic (Discworld, #1)

by Terry Pratchett

Put me down on the floor and stand back The frog blinked. The wizard did so, and dragged a bewildered Twoflower out of the way. The room darkened. There was a windy, roaring sound. Streamers of green, purple and octarine cloud appeared out of nowhere and began to spiral rapidly toward the recumbent amphibian, shedding small bolts of lightning as they whirled. Soon the frog was lost in a golden haze which began to elongate upward, filling the room with a warm yellow light. Within it was a darker, indistinct shape, which wavered and changed even as they watched. And all the time there was the high, brain-curdling whine of a huge magical field . . . As suddenly as it had appeared, the magical tornado vanished. And there, occupying the space where the frog had been, was a frog. “Fantastic,”