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Vimes
groaned
.
It
had
survived
something
that
tore
masonry
apart
.
What
did
you
have
to
do
to
beat
it
?
You
can
’
t
fight
it
,
he
thought
.
You
can
’
t
burn
it
,
you
can
’
t
smash
it
.
There
’
s
nothing
you
can
do
to
it
.
The
dragon
landed
.
It
wasn
’
t
a
perfect
landing
.
A
perfect
landing
wouldn
’
t
have
demolished
a
row
of
cottages
.
It
was
slow
,
and
it
seemed
to
go
on
for
a
long
time
and
rip
up
a
considerable
stretch
of
city
.
Wings
flapping
aimlessly
,
neck
waving
and
spraying
random
flame
,
it
ploughed
on
through
a
debris
of
beams
and
thatch
.
Several
fires
started
up
along
the
trail
of
destruction
.
Finally
it
came
to
rest
at
the
end
of
the
furrow
,
almost
invisible
under
a
heap
of
former
architecture
.
The
silence
that
it
left
was
broken
only
by
the
shouts
of
someone
trying
to
organise
yet
another
bucket
chain
from
the
river
to
douse
the
fires
.
Then
people
started
to
move
.
From
the
air
Ankh
-
Morpork
must
have
looked
like
a
disturbed
anthill
,
with
streams
of
dark
figures
flowing
towards
the
wreck
of
the
dragon
.
Most
of
them
had
some
kind
of
weapon
.
Many
of
them
had
spears
.
Some
of
them
had
swords
.
