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Errol
stopped
in
mid
-
crunch
.
Very
slowly
,
as
though
it
was
mounted
on
very
smooth
,
well
-
oiled
bearings
,
the
dragon
’
s
head
turned
to
face
upwards
.
What
it
was
staring
at
intently
was
a
patch
of
empty
air
.
There
wasn
’
t
much
else
you
could
say
about
it
.
Vimes
shivered
under
his
cape
.
This
was
daft
.
"
Look
,
don
’
t
muck
about
,
"
he
said
,
"
there
’
s
nothing
there
.
"
Errol
started
to
tremble
.
"
It
’
s
just
the
rain
,
"
said
Vimes
.
"
Go
on
,
finish
your
bottle
.
Nice
bottle
.
"
A
thin
,
worried
keening
noise
broke
from
the
dragon
’
s
mouth
.
"
I
’
ll
show
you
,
"
said
Vimes
.
He
cast
around
and
spotted
one
of
Throat
’
s
sausages
,
cast
aside
by
a
hungry
reveller
who
had
decided
he
was
never
going
to
be
that
hungry
.
He
picked
it
up
.
"
Look
,
"
he
said
,
and
threw
it
upwards
.
