On the other side of the curtain children were squabbling, a baby was crying, and there was the smell of rat-and-cabbage casserole. Someone was sharpening an axe. And someone else was snoring. For a dwarf in Ankh-Morpork, solitude was something that you had to cultivate on the inside.

Books and papers filled the space that wasn't bed. Bashfullsson's desk was a board laid across his knees. He was reading a battered book, its cover cracked and mouldy, and the runes passing under his eye were: `It has no strength in this world. To fulfil any purpose, the Dark must find a champion, a living creature it can bend to its will ...'

Bashfullsson sighed. He'd read the phrase a dozen times, hoping he could make it mean something other than the obvious. He copied the words into his notebook anyway. Then he put the notebook in his satchel, swung the satchel on to his back, went and paid Toin Footstamper two weeks' rent in advance, and stepped out into the rain.

Vimes didn't remember going to sleep. He didn't remember sleeping. He surfaced from darkness when Carrot shook him awake. `The coaches are in the yard, Mister Vimes!' 'Fwisup?' murmured Vimes, blinking in the light. `I've told people to load them up, sir, but-' `But what?' Vimes sat up.

`I think you'd better come and see, sir:

When Vimes stepped out into the damp dawn, two coaches were indeed standing in the yard. Detritus was idly watching the loading, while leaning on the Piecemaker.

Carrot hurried over when he saw the commander. `It's the

wizards, sir,' he said. `They've done something.'

The coaches looked normal enough to Vimes, and he said so. `Oh, they look fine,' said Carrot. He reached down and put his

hand on the door sill, and added: `But they do this.' He lifted the laden coach over his head.

`You shouldn't be able to do that,' said Vimes.

`That's right, sir,' said Carrot, lowering the coach gently on to the

cobbles. `It doesn't get any heavier with people inside, either. And if

you come over here, sir, they've done something to the horses, too.' `Any idea what they've done, captain?'

`None whatsoever, sir. The coaches were just outside the university. Haddock and I drove them down here. Very light, of course. It's the harnesses that are worrying me. See here, sir:

`I see the leather's very thick,' said Vimes. `And what're all these copper knobs? Something magical?

'Could be, sir. Something happens at thirteen miles an hour. I don't know what.' Carrot patted the side of the coach, which slid

away. `The thing is, sir, I don't know how much of an edge this gives you.

`What? Surely a weightless coach would-'

`Oh, it'll help, sir, especially on the inclines. But horses can only go so fast for so long, sir, and once they've got the coach moving it's a rolling weight and not so much of a problem.'

`Thirteen miles an hour,' Vimes mused. `Hmm. That's pretty fast.'

`Well, the mail coaches are making nine or ten miles an hour average on many runs now,' said Carrot. `But the roads will be a lot worse when you get near Koom Valley.'

`You don't think it'll take wing, do you?'

`I think the wizards would have said so if it was going to do something like that, sir. But it's funny you should mention it, because there's seven broomsticks nailed underneath each coach.'

`What? Why don't they just float out of the yard?'

`Magic, sir. I think they just compensate for the weight:

`Good grief, yes. Why didn't I think of that?' said Vimes sourly. `And that's why I don't like magic, captain. 'Cos it's magic. You can't ask questions, it's magic. It doesn't explain anything, it's magic. You don't know where it comes from, it's magic! That's what I don't like about magic, it does everything by magic!'

`That's the significant factor, sir, there's no doubt about it,' said Carrot. `I'll just see to the last of the packing, if you'll excuse me

Vimes glared at the coaches. He probably shouldn't have brought in the wizards, but where was the choice? Oh, they could probably have sent Sam Vimes all that way in a puff of smoke and the blink of an eye, but who'd actually arrive there, and who'd come back? How would he know if it was him? He was certain that people were not supposed to disappear like that.

Sam Vimes had always been, by nature, a pedestrian. That's why he was going to take Willikins as well, who knew how to drive. He'd also demonstrated to Vimes his ability to throw a common fish knife so hard that it was quite difficult to pull out of the wall. At times like this, Vimes liked to see a skill like that in a butler

"Scuse me, sir," said Detritus, behind him. `Could I have a word, pers'nal?'

`Yes. Of course,' said Vimes.

`I, er, hope what I said yesterday inna cells wasn't goin' too-' `Can't remember a word of it,' said Vimes.

Detritus looked relieved. `Thank you, sir. Er ... I want to take young Brick with us, sir. He's got no kin here, doesn't even know what clan he is. He'll only get messed up again if I take my eye off'f him. An' he's never seen der mountains. Never been outside der city, even!'

There was a pleading look in the troll's eyes. Vimes recollected that his marriage to Ruby was happy but childless.

`Well, we don't seem to have a weight problem,' he said. `All right. But you're to keep an eye on him, okay?'

The troll beamed. `Yessir! I'll see you don't regret it, sir!'

`Breakfast, Sam!' called Sybil, from the doorway. A nasty suspicion gripped Vimes, and he hurried over to the other coach, where Carrot was strapping on the last bag.

`Who packed the food? Did Sybil pack the food?' he said. `I think so, sir.'

`Was there ... fruit?' said Vimes, probing the horror.

`I believe so, sir. Quite a lot. And vegetables.'

`Some bacon, surely?' Vimes was nearly begging. `Very good for a

long journey, bacon. It travels well.'

`I think it's staying at home today,' said Carrot. `I have to tell you, sir, that Lady Sybil has found out about the bacon sandwich arrangement. She said to tell you the game was up, sir.'

`I am the commander around here, you know,' said Vimes, with as much hauteur as he could muster on an empty stomach.

`Yes, sir. But Lady Sybil has a very quiet way of being firm, sir.'

`She has, hasn't she?' said Vimes as they strolled towards the

building. `I'm a very lucky man, you know,' he added, just in case Carrot might have got the wrong impression.

`Yes, sir. You are indeed.'

`Captain!'

They turned. Someone was hurrying through the gate. He had two swords strapped to his back.

`Ah, Special Constable Hancock,' said Carrot, stepping forward. `Do you have something for me?'

`Er, yes, captain.' Hancock looked nervously at Vimes.

`This is official business, Andy,' said Vimes, reassuringly.

`Not much to give you, sir. But I asked around, and a young lady sent at least two self-coded droppers to Bonk in the last week. That means it goes to the main tower and gets handed over to whoever turns up with the right authorization. We don't have to know who they are.'

`Well done,' said Carrot. `Any description?'

`Young lady with short hair is the best I could get. Signed the message "Aicalas".'

Vimes burst out laughing. `Well, that's about it. Thank you, Special Constable Hancock, very much.'

`Crime on the clacks is going to be a growing problem,' said Carrot sadly, when they were alone again.

`Quite likely, captain,' said Vimes. `But here and now we know that our Sally is not being straight with us.'

`We can't be certain it's her, sir,' said Carrot.

`Oh no?' said Vimes happily. `This quite cheers me up. It's one of the lesser-known failings of the vampire. No one knows why. It goes with having big windows and easily torn curtains. A sort of undeath-wish, you might say. However clever they are, they can't resist thinking that no one will recognize their name if they spell it backwards. Let's go.'