thought the prisoner ought to have something to eat . . .'
'Yes?' said Vimes encouragingly.
'Well, when Nobby asked him if he wanted his figgin toasted, he just give a scream and ran off.'
'Just that?' said Vimes. 'You didn't threaten him in any way?'
'Straight up, Captain. Bit of a mystery, if you ask me. He kept going on about someone called Supreme Grand Master.'
'Hmm.' Vimes glanced out of the window. Grey fog lagged the world with dim light. 'What time is it?' he said.
'Five of the clock, sir.'
'Right. Well, before it gets dark…'
Colon gave a cough. 'In the morning, sir. This is tomorrow, sir.'
'You let me sleep all day?'
'Didn't have the heart to wake you up, sir. No dragon activity, if that's what you're thinking. Dead quiet all round, in fact.'
Vimes glared at him and threw the window open.
The fog rolled in, in a slow, yellow-edged waterfall.
'We reckon it must of flown away,' said Colon's voice, behind him.
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