Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8)

“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.

Vimes stared up into the heavy, rolling clouds.

“Hope it clears up for the coronation,” Colon went on, in a worried voice. “You all right, sir?”

It hasn't flown away, Vimes thought. Why should it fly away? We can't hurt it, and it's got everything it wants right here. It's up there somewhere.

“You all right, sir?” Colon repeated.

It's got to be up high somewhere, in the fog. There's all kinds of towers and things.

“What time's the coronation, Sergeant?” he said.

“Noon, sir. And Mr Wonse has sent a message about how you're to be in your best armour among all the civic leaders, sir.”

“Oh, has he?”

“And Sergeant Hummock and the day squad will be lining the route, sir.”

“What with?” said Vimes vaguely, watching the skies.

“Sorry, sir?”

Vimes squinted upwards to get a better view of the roof. “Hmm?” he said.

“I said they'll be lining the route, sir,” said Sergeant Colon.

“It's up there, Sergeant,” said Vimes. “I can practically smell it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Colon obediently.

“It's deciding what to do next.”

“Yes, sir?”