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It
’
s
as
long
as
a
street
!
There
was
a
puff
of
flame
above
the
docks
,
and
for
a
moment
the
creature
passed
in
front
of
the
moon
.
Then
it
flapped
its
wings
,
once
,
with
a
sound
like
the
damp
hides
of
a
pedigree
herd
being
slapped
across
a
cliff
.
It
turned
in
a
tight
circle
,
pounded
the
air
a
few
times
to
build
up
speed
,
and
came
back
.
When
it
passed
over
the
Watch
House
it
coughed
a
column
of
spitting
white
fire
.
Tiles
under
it
didn
’
t
just
melt
,
they
erupted
in
red
-
hot
droplets
.
The
chimney
stack
exploded
and
rained
bricks
across
the
street
.
Vast
wings
hammered
at
the
air
as
the
creature
hovered
over
the
burning
building
,
fire
spearing
down
on
what
rapidly
became
a
glowing
heap
.
Then
,
when
all
that
was
left
was
a
spreading
puddle
of
melted
rock
with
interesting
streaks
and
bubbles
in
it
,
the
dragon
raised
itself
with
a
contemptuous
flick
of
its
wings
and
soared
away
and
upwards
,
over
the
city
.
Lady
Ramkin
lowered
her
telescope
and
shook
her
head
slowly
.
"
That
’
s
not
right
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
That
’
s
not
right
at
all
.
Shouldn
’
t
be
able
to
do
anything
like
that
.
"
She
raised
the
lens
again
and
squinted
,
trying
to
see
what
was
on
fire
.
Down
below
,
in
their
long
kennels
,
the
little
dragons
howled
.
Traditionally
,
upon
waking
from
blissfully
uneventful
insensibility
,
you
ask
:
"
Where
am
I
?
"
It
’
s
probably
part
of
the
racial
consciousness
or
something
.
Vimes
said
it
.
