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It
was
a
beautifully
controlled
line
of
plasma
.
It
went
through
the
roof
like
butter
.
It
cut
through
stairways
.
It
crackled
into
ancient
timbers
and
made
them
twist
like
paper
.
It
sliced
into
pipes
.
It
punched
through
floor
after
floor
like
the
fist
of
an
angry
god
and
,
eventually
,
reached
the
big
copper
vat
containing
a
thousand
gallons
of
freshly
-
made
mature
whisky
-
type
spirit
.
It
burned
into
that
,
too
.
Fortunately
,
the
chances
of
anyone
surviving
the
ensuing
explosion
were
exactly
a
million
-
to
-
one
.
The
fireball
rose
like
a
-
well
,
a
rose
.
A
huge
orange
rose
,
streaked
with
yellow
.
It
took
the
roof
with
it
and
wrapped
it
around
the
astonished
dragon
,
lifting
it
high
into
the
air
in
a
boiling
cloud
of
broken
timber
and
bits
of
piping
.
The
crowd
watched
in
bemusement
as
the
superhot
blast
flung
it
into
the
sky
and
barely
noticed
Vimes
as
he
pushed
his
way
,
wheezing
and
crying
,
through
the
press
of
bodies
.
He
shouldered
past
a
row
of
palace
guards
and
shambled
as
fast
as
he
could
across
the
flagstones
.
No
-
one
was
paying
him
much
attention
at
the
moment
.
