"Yes," mumbled Vimes, experiencing vertigo and seasickness in one tight green package.

The walls slowed. The boat stopped shaking. Smoothly, the water lifted them over the lip of the well and into a little channel, where there was a dock.

"Any guards below?" Vimes managed, stepping out onto the blessedly solid stone.

"There are usually four," said Dee. "For tonight I...arranged matters. The guards understand. No one is proud of this. I must tell you, I disapprove most strongly most strongly of this enterprise." of this enterprise."

Vimes looked around the new cave. A couple of dwarfs were standing on a lip of stone which overlooked what was now a placid pool. By the look of it, they were the ones who operated the machinery.

"Shall we proceed?" said the dwarf.

There was a pa.s.sage leading off the cave, which rapidly narrowed. Vimes had to bend almost double along one length. At one point metal plates clanked under his feet, and he felt them shift slightly. Then he was standing almost upright again, pa.s.sing under another arch, and there...

Either the dwarfs had cut into a huge geode, or they had with great care lined this small cave with quartz crystals until every surface reflected the light of the two small candles that stood on pillars in the middle of the sandy floor. The effect dazzled even Vimes, after the darkness of the tunnels.

"Behold," said Dee gloomily, "where the Scone should be..."

A round flat stone, midway between the candles and only a few inches high, clearly contained nothing.

Behind it, water bubbled up in a natural basin and split into two streams that flowed around the stone and disappeared again into another stone funnel.

"All right," said Vimes. "Tell me everything."

"It was found missing three days ago," said Dee. "Dozy Longfinger found it gone when he unlocked the door to replace the candles."

"And his job is...?"

"Captain of the Candles."

"Ah."

"It's a very responsible position."

"I've seen the chandeliers. And how often does he go in there?"

"He went in there every day."

"Went?"

"He no longer holds the position."

"Because he's a prime suspect?" said Vimes.

"Because he's dead."

"And how did that happen?" said Vimes, slowly and deliberately.

"He...took his own life. We are certain of this, because we had to break down the door of his cave. He'd had been Captain of the Candles for sixty years. I do not think he could bear the thought of suspicion falling on him."

"To me he does does sound a likely suspect." sound a likely suspect."

"He did not steal the Scone. We know that much."

"But the robes you people wear could hide practically anything. Was he searched?"

"Certainly not! But...I shall demonstrate," said Dee. He walked off along the narrow, metal-floored corridor.

"Can you see me, Your Excellency?"

"Yes, of course."

The floor rattled as Dee came back. "Now this time I will carry something...your helmet, if you please? Just for the demonstration..."

Vimes handed it to him. The Ideas-taster walked back down the corridor. When he was halfway, a gong boomed and two metal grids dropped down out of the ceiling. A few seconds after that guards appeared at the far grille, peering in suspiciously.

Dee said a few words to them. The faces vanished. After a while, the grilles rose slowly.

"The mechanism is complex and quite old but we keep it in good working order," he said, handing Vimes his helmet. "If you weigh more going out than going in, the guards will want to know why. It is unavoidable, it is still accurate to within a few ounces, and does not violate privacy. The only way to beat it would be to fly. Can thieves fly, Your Excellency?"

"Depends on which sort," said Vimes absently. "Who else goes in there?"

"Once every six days the chamber is inspected by myself and two guards. The last inspection was five days ago."

"Does anyone else go in there?" said Vimes. He noticed that Cheery had picked up a handful of the off-white sand that formed the floor of the Scone cave and was letting it run between her fingers.

"Not lately. When the new king is crowned, of course, the Scone will often be brought forth for various ceremonial purposes."

"Do you only get that white sand in here?"

"Yes. Is that important?"

Vimes saw Cheery nod.

"I'm not...sure," he said. "Tell me, what intrinsic value has the Scone?"

"Intrinsic? It's priceless!"

"I know it's valuable as a symbol, but what is it's value in itself itself?"

"Priceless!"

"I'm trying to work out why a thief might want to steal it," said Vimes, as patiently as he could.

Cheery had lifted up the flat round stone and was looking underneath it. Vimes pursed his lips.

"What is...she doing?" said Dee. The p.r.o.noun dripped with distaste. doing?" said Dee. The p.r.o.noun dripped with distaste.

"Constable Littlebottom is looking for clues," said Vimes. "They are what we call...signs, which may help us. It's a skill."

"Would this letter speed your search?" said Dee. "It has writing on it. That is what we call...signs, which may help you."

Vimes looked at the proffered paper. It was brown, and quite stiff, and covered in runes.

"I, er, can't read those," he said.

"It's a skill," said Dee, solemnly.

"I can, sir," said Cheery. "Allow me?"

She took the paper and read it.

"Er...it appears to be a ransom note, sir. From...the Sons of Agi Hammerthief. They say they have the Scone and will...they say they'll destroy it, sir."

"Where's the money?" said Vimes.

"No money, sir. They say Rhys must renounce all claim to be Low King."

"There are no other conditions," said Dee. "The note turned up on my desk. But everyone everyone puts paperwork on my desk these days." puts paperwork on my desk these days."

"Who are the Sons of Agi Hammerthief?" said Vimes, looking at Dee. "And why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"We don't know. It is just a made-up name. Some...malcontents, we a.s.sume. And I was told you you would ask would ask me me questions." questions."

"But this isn't a real crime anymore, is it?" said Vimes. "This is politics. Why can't the king just renounce all claim, get the Scone back, and then say he had his fingers crossed? If it's done under duress-"

"We take our ceremonies seriously, Your Excellency. If Rhys renounces the throne, he cannot change his mind the next day. If he allows the Scone to be destroyed, then the kingship has no legitimacy and there will-"

"-be trouble," said Vimes. And it'll spread to Ankh-Morpork, he added to himself. At the moment it's only riots.

"Who'll become king if he abdicates?"

"Albrecht Albrechtson, as everyone knows."

"And that will be trouble, too," said Vimes. "Civil war, from what I hear."

"The king says," said Dee quietly, "that he intends to step down nevertheless. Better any king than chaos. Dwarfs do not like chaos."

"It's going to be chaos either way, though," said Vimes.

"There have been rebellions against kings before. Dwarfdom survives. The crown continues. The lore abides. The Stone remains. There is...a sanity to come back to."

Oh, my G.o.ds, thought Vimes. Thousands of dwarfs die but that's all right if a lump of rock survives. "I'm not a policeman here. What can I do?"

"This hasn't happened!" shrieked Dee, his nerve cracking. "But everyone knows foreigners from Ankh-Morpork do not mind their own business!"

"Ah...you mean...given that you don't want people to know about this...it would look bad if you appeared to be too excited...but you can't be blamed if a stupid flatfoot pokes his nose into things...?"

Dee waved his hands in the air. "This wasn't my idea!"

"Look, the security you have got here would disgrace a child's piggy bank. I can think of two or three ways of getting the Scone out of here. What about the secret pa.s.sage into this room?"

"I know of no secret pa.s.sage into this room!"

"Oh, good good. At least we've ruled out something something. Go and wait by the boat. Corporal Littlebottom and I have to talk about some things."

Dee left reluctantly. Vimes waited until the dwarf was visible in the glow of the candles beyond the weighing bridge.

"What a mess," he said. "Locked-room mysteries are even worse when they leave the room unlocked."

"You're thinking that Dozy might have worn bags of sand under his robes, aren't you, sir," said Cheery.

No, thought Vimes. I wasn't. But now I know how a dwarf would solve this.

"Possibly," he said aloud. "Grubby white sand can't be uncommon. You'd add a bit of sand every day, yes? Just enough not to trigger the scales. Finally you've got...how much does the Scone weigh?"

"About sixteen pounds, sir."

"All right. Dump the sand on the floor, shove the Scone under your robes, and...it might just work."

"Risky, sir."

"But no one thinks anyone is really going to try try to steal the Scone. Would you try to tell me that four guards sitting in that little guardhouse on a twelve-hour shift will be alert to steal the Scone. Would you try to tell me that four guards sitting in that little guardhouse on a twelve-hour shift will be alert all all the time? That's enough for a hand of poker!" the time? That's enough for a hand of poker!"

"I suppose they rely on the fact that they'd know when a boat came up, sir."

"Right. Big mistake. And you know what? I bet bet that when a boat's just gone down, that's the time they're least alert. Cheery, if a human could get in here, they could get into the Scone room. They'd have to be nimble and a good swimmer, but they could do it." that when a boat's just gone down, that's the time they're least alert. Cheery, if a human could get in here, they could get into the Scone room. They'd have to be nimble and a good swimmer, but they could do it."

"The guards on the gates were pretty keen, sir."

"Well, yes yes. Guards always are, just after a theft. Smart as foxes and sharp as knives, just in case anyone wonders if it was them them who dropped off to sleep at the wrong time. I'm a who dropped off to sleep at the wrong time. I'm a copper copper, Cheery. I know how dull guarding can be. Especially when you know that no one is ever going to steal what you're guarding."

He scuffed the sand with his boot.

"They were looking hard at every cart that went in or out this morning. But that was because the Scone had been been stolen. It's at times like this you get very official, very efficient and very pointless activity. Don't try to tell me that last week they opened every barrel and prodded every load of hay. Even the stuff coming stolen. It's at times like this you get very official, very efficient and very pointless activity. Don't try to tell me that last week they opened every barrel and prodded every load of hay. Even the stuff coming in in? Can you see Dee? Is he looking at me?"

Cheery peered around Vimes.

"No, sir."

"Good."

Vimes walked over to the tunnel, pressed his back against a wall, took a deep breath, and walked his legs up the opposite wall. Then he eased his way out over the plates of the weigh-bridge, inched along with feet and shoulder blades and, wincing at every protest from his knees, eventually dropped down. He strolled over to Dee, who was talking to the guards.

"How did-"

"Never mind," said Vimes. "Let's just say I'm longer than a dwarf, shall we?"

"Have you solved it?"