allowed to happen. Not in my city.
In fact the Shades were not a problem. Many of its denizens were out hoard-hunting anyway, and those that remained were far less inclined than hitherto to lurk in dark alleys. Besides, the more sensible of them recognized that Lady Ramkin, if waylaid, would probably tell them to pull up their socks and not be silly, in a voice so used to command that they would probably find themselves doing it.
The wall hadn't been knocked down yet and still bore its grisly fresco. Errol sniffed around it, trotted up the alley once or twice, and went to sleep.
'Dint work,' said Sergeant Colon.
'Good idea, though,' said Nobby loyally.
'It could be all the rain and people walking about, I suppose,' said Lady Ramkin.
Vimes scooped up the dragon. It had been a vain hope anyway. It was just better to be doing something than nothing.
'We'd better get back,' he said. 'The sun's gone down.''
They walked back in silence. The dragon's even tamed the Shades, Vimes thought. It's taken over the whole city, even when it isn't here. People 'll start tying virgins to rocks any day now.
It's a metaphor of human bloody existence, a dragon. And if that wasn't bad enough, it's also a bloody great hot flying thing.
He pulled out the key to the new headquarters. While he was fumbling in the lock, Errol woke up and started to yammer.
'Not now,' Vimes said. His side twinged. The night had barely started and already he felt too tired.
A slate slid down the roof and smashed on the cobbles beside him.
'Captain,' hissed Sergeant Colon.
'What?'
'It's on the roof, Captain.'
Something about the sergeant's voice got through to Vimes. It wasn't excited. It wasn't frightened. It just had a tone of dull, leaden terror.
He looked up. Errol started to bounce up and down under his arm.
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