Guards! Guards!

'You've really studied them, haven't you,' he said.

'Someone ought to.'

'But what about the big ones?'

'Golly, yes. They're a great mystery, you know,' she said, her expression becoming extremely serious.

'Yes, you said.'

'There are legends, you know. It seems as though one species of dragon started to get bigger and bigger and then . . . just vanished.'

'Died out, you mean?'

'No . . . they turned up, sometimes. From somewhere. Full of vim and vigour. And then, one day, they stopped coming at all.' She gave Vimes a triumphant look. 'I think they found somewhere where they could really be. '

'Really be what?'

'Dragons. Where they could really fulfil their potential. Some other dimension or something. Where the gravity isn't so strong, or something.'

'I thought when I saw it,' said Vimes, 'I thought, you can't have something that flies and has scales like that.'

They looked at each other.

'We've got to find it in its lair,' said Lady Ramkin.

'No bloody flying newt sets fire to my city,' said Vimes.

'Just think of the contribution to dragon lore,' said Lady Ramkin.

'Listen, if anyone ever sets fire to this city, it's going to be me. '

'It's an amazing opportunity. There's so many questions ...'

'You're right there.' A phrase of Carrot's crossed Vimes's mind. 'It can help us with our enquiries,' he suggested.

'But in the morning,' said Lady Ramkin firmly.

Vimes's look of bitter determination faded.

'I shall sleep downstairs, in the kitchen,' said Lady Ramkin cheerfully. 'I usually have a camp bed made up down there when it's egg-laying time. Some of the females always need assistance. Don't you worry about me.'

'You're being very helpful,' Vimes muttered.

'I've sent Nobby down to the city to help the others set up your headquarters,' said Lady Ramkin.

Vimes had completely forgotten the Watch House. 'It must have been badly damaged,' he ventured.

'Totally destroyed,' said Lady Ramkin. 'Just a patch of melted rock. So I'm letting you have a place in Pseudopolis Yard.'

'Sorry?'

'Oh, my father had property all over the city,' she said. 'Quite useless to me, really. So I told my agent to give Sergeant Colon the keys to the old house in Pseudopolis Yard. It'll do it good to be aired.'

'But that area — I mean, there's real cobbles on the streets — the rent alone, I mean, Lord Vetinari won't-'