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"
Well
,
that
’
s
too
bad
,
"
said
the
leader
.
"
That
’
s
really
worrying
,
you
know
that
?
Makes
me
go
all
weak
at
the
knees
,
that
does
.
"
He
extracted
a
lengthy
cleaver
from
his
belt
.
"
And
now
you
just
stand
aside
,
lady
,
because
-
"
A
streak
of
green
fire
blasted
out
of
the
back
of
the
shed
,
passed
a
foot
over
the
heads
of
the
mob
,
and
burned
a
charred
rosette
in
the
woodwork
over
the
door
.
Then
came
a
voice
that
was
a
honeyed
purr
of
sheer
deadly
menace
.
"
This
is
Lord
Mountjoy
Quickfang
Winterforth
IV
,
the
hottest
dragon
in
the
city
.
It
could
burn
your
head
clean
off
.
"
Captain
Vimes
limped
forward
from
the
shadows
.
A
small
and
extremely
frightened
golden
dragon
was
clamped
firmly
under
one
arm
.
His
other
hand
held
it
by
the
tail
.
The
rioters
watched
it
,
hypnotised
.
"
Now
I
know
what
you
’
re
thinking
,
"
Vimes
went
on
,
softly
.
"
You
’
re
wondering
,
after
all
this
excitement
,
has
it
got
enough
flame
left
?
And
,
y
’
know
,
I
ain
’
t
so
sure
myself
.
.
.
"
