She did not look up.

"Sergeant Angua!"

Now she looked up. she looked up.

"How can you be so...so cool cool?" she snarled. "He's hurt hurt..."

"I know. Go and talk to those watchmen hanging around on the other end of the bridge. They look scared. I don't want any accidents. We're going to need them. Cheery, cover Carrot and Tantony with something. Keep them warm."

I wish there was something to keep me me warm, he thought. The thoughts came slowly, like drips of freezing water. He felt that ice would crackle off him if he moved, that frost would sparkle in his footsteps, that his mind was full of crisp snow. warm, he thought. The thoughts came slowly, like drips of freezing water. He felt that ice would crackle off him if he moved, that frost would sparkle in his footsteps, that his mind was full of crisp snow.

"And now, madam," he said, turning back to the baroness, "you will give me the Scone of Stone."

"He'll be back!" hissed the baroness. "That fall was nothing nothing! And he'll find find you." you."

"For the last time...the stone of the dwarfs. The wolves are waiting out there. The dwarfs are waiting down in the city. Give me the stone, and we all might survive. This is diplomacy. Don't let me try anything else."

"I have only to say the word-"

Angua began to growl. Sybil strode toward and grabbed the baroness.

"You never answered a single letter! All those years I wrote to you!"

The baroness stared at her in amazement, as people so often did when struck with Sybil's sharp non sequiturs.

"If you know we've got the Scone," she said to Vimes, "then you know it's not the real one. And much good may it do the dwarfs!"

"Yes, you had it made in Ankh-Morpork. Made in Ankh-Morpork! They should have stamped it on the bottom. But someone killed the man who did it. That's murder. It's against the law." Vimes nodded at the baroness. "It's a thing we have."

Gaspode dragged himself out of the water and stood, shivering, on the shingle. Every single part of him felt bruised. There was a nasty ringing noise in his ears. Blood dripped down one leg.

The last few minutes had been a little hazy, but he did did recall they'd involved a lot of water that had hit him like hammers. recall they'd involved a lot of water that had hit him like hammers.

He shook himself. His coat jangled where the water was already freezing.

Out of habit, he walked over to the nearest tree and, wincing, raised a leg.

EXCUSE ME ME.

A busy, reflective silence followed.

"That was not a good thing you just did," said Gaspode.

I'M SORRY. PERHAPS THIS IS NOT THE RIGHT MOMENT.

"Not for me, no. You may have caused some physical damage here."

IT'S HARD TO KNOW WHAT TO SAY.

"Trees don't normally talk back, is my point." Gaspode sighed. "So...what happens now?"

I BEG YOUR PARDON BEG YOUR PARDON?.

"I'm dead, right?"

NO. NO ONE IS MORE SURPRISED THAN ME, I MAY SAY, BUT YOUR TIME DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE NOW MAY SAY, BUT YOUR TIME DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE NOW.

Death pulled out an hourgla.s.s, held it up against the cold stars for a moment, and stalked away along the riverbank.

"'Scuse me, there's no chance of a lift, is there?" said Gaspode, struggling after him.

NONE WHATSOEVER.

"Only, being a short dog in deep snow is not good for the ol' wossnames, if you get my-"

Death had stopped at a little bay. An indistinct shape lay in a few inches of water.

"Oh," said Gaspode.

Death leaned down. There was a flash of blue, and then he vanished.

Gaspode shivered. He paddled into the water, and nudged Gavin's sodden fur with his nose.

"Shouldn't be like this," he whined. "If you was a human, they'd put you in a big boat on the tide and set fire to it, an' everyone'd see. Shouldn't just be you an' me down here in the cold."

There was something that had to be done, too. He knew it in his bones. He crawled back to the bank and pulled himself up onto the trunk of a fallen willow.

He cleared his throat.

Then he howled.

It started badly, hesitantly, but it picked up and got stronger, richer...and when he paused for breath the howl went on and on, pa.s.sing from throat to throat across the forest.

The sound wrapped him as he slid off the log and struggled on toward higher ground. It lifted him over the deeper snow. It wound around the trees, a plaiting of many voices becoming something with a life of its own. He remembered thinking: Maybe it'll even get as far as Ankh-Morpork.

Maybe it'll get much farther than that.

Vimes was impressed by the baroness. She fought back in a corner.

"I know nothing about any deaths-"

A howl came up from the forest. How many wolves were there? You never saw them...and then, when they cried out, it sounded as though there was one behind every tree. This one went on and on-it sounded like a cry thrown into a lake of air, the ripples spreading out across the mountains.

Angua threw her head back and screamed. Then, breath hissing between her teeth, she advanced on the baroness, fingers flexing.

"Give him...the d.a.m.n stone," she hissed. "Will any...of...you...face me? Now? Now? Then...give him the stone!" Then...give him the stone!"

"What theems to be the throuble?"

Igor lurched through the stricken gates, trailed by Detritus. He caught sight of the two bodies and hurried over like a very large spider.

"Fetch the stone," growled Angua. "And then...we...will leave. I can smell smell it. Or do you...want me to it. Or do you...want me to take take it?" it?"

Serafine glared at her, then turned on her heel and ran back into the ruins of the castle. The other werewolves shrank back from Angua as if her stare were a whip.

"If you can't help these men," said Vimes to the kneeling Igor, "your future does not look good."

Igor nodded. "Thith one," he said, indicating Tantony, "fleth woundth, I can thitch him up a treat, no problem. Thith Thith one," he tapped Carrot, "...nasty break on the arm." He glanced up. "Marthter Wolfgang been playing again?" one," he tapped Carrot, "...nasty break on the arm." He glanced up. "Marthter Wolfgang been playing again?"

"Can you make him well?" snapped Vimes.

"No, it'th hith lucky day," said Igor. "I can make him better better. I've got some kidneyth jutht in, a lovely little pair, belonged to young Mr. c.r.a.panthy, hardly touched a drop of thtrong licker, shame about the avalanchthe..."

"Does he need need them?" said Angua. them?" said Angua.

"No, but you thould never mith an opportunity to improve yourthelf, I alwayth thay."

Igor grinned. It was a strange sight. The scars crawled around his face like caterpillars.

"Just see to the arm," said Vimes, firmly.

The baroness reappeared, flanked by several werewolves. They also backed away as Angua spun around.

"Take it," said Serafine. "Take the wretched thing. It is a fake. No crime has been committed!"

"I'm a policeman," said Vimes. "I can always find a crime."

The sleigh slid under its own weight down the track toward Bonk, the town's watchmen running alongside it and giving it the occasional push. With their captain down they were lost and bewildered and in no mood to take orders from Vimes, but they did what Angua commanded because Angua was of the cla.s.s that traditionally gave them orders...

The two casualties were bedded down on blankets.

"Angua?" said Vimes.

"Yes, sir?"

"There's wolves keeping pace with us. I can see them running between the trees."

"I know."

"Are they on our side?"

"Let's just say...they're not on anyone else's side yet, shall we? They don't like me much but they know...Gavin did, and right now that is what's important. Some of them are out looking for my brother."

"Would he have survived that? It was a long way down."

"Well, it wasn't fire or silver. There's nothing but white water for miles. It probably hurt a lot, but we heal amazingly well, sir."

"Look, I'm sorry that-"

"No, Mister Vimes, you're not. You shouldn't be. Carrot just didn't understand what Wolfgang is like. You can't beat something like him in a fair fight. Look, I know he's family, but...personal is not the same as important. Carrot always said that."

"Says that," said Lady Sybil sharply. that," said Lady Sybil sharply.

"Yes."

Carrot opened his eyes.

"What...happened back there?" he said.

"Wolfgang hit you," said Angua. She wiped his brow.

"What with?" Carrot tried to push himself upward, winced, and fell back.

"What have I always told you about the Marquis of Fantailler?" said Vimes.

"Sorry, sir."

Something bright rose from the distant forests. It vanished, and then a green light expanded into existence. A moment later came the pop pop of the flare. of the flare.

"The signalers have got to the tower," said Vimes.

"Can't this d.a.m.n thing go any faster?" said Angua.

"I mean, we can contact Ankh-Morpork," said Vimes. After everything, he felt curiously cheered by this. It was as if a special human howl had gone up. He wasn't floundering around loose now. He was floundering on the end of a very long line. That made all the difference.

It was a small public room over a shop in Bonk and, since it belonged to everybody, it looked as though it didn't belong to anyone. There was dust in the corners, and the chairs that were currently arranged in a ragged circle had been chosen for their ability to be stacked neatly rather than sat on comfortably.

Lady Margolotta smiled at the a.s.sembled vampires. She liked these meetings.

The rest of the group were a pretty mixed bunch, and she wondered what their motives were. But perhaps they at least shared one conviction-that what you were made as, wasn't what you had to be or what you might become...

And the trick was to start small. Suck, but don't impale. Little steps. And then you found that what you really wanted was power, and there were much politer ways of getting it. And then you realized that power was a bauble. Any thug had power. The true prize was control control. Lord Vetinari knew that. When heavy weights were balanced on the scales, the trick was to know where to place your thumb.