Стража! Стража!

           "Anyofthemgetout?"

           Vimesputhisheadinhishands.Hewonderedhowlongitwassincehe’dlasthadanysleep,propersleep,thesortwithsheets.Orfood,cometothat.Wasitlastnight,orthenightbefore?Hadheever,cometothinkofit,eversleptatallinallhislife?Itdidn’tseemlikeit.ThearmsofMorpheushadrolleduptheirsleevesandweregivingthebackofhisbrainarightpummelling,butbitswerefightingback.Anyofthemget...?

           "Anyofwho?"hesaid.

           "Thepeopleinthehouse,ofcourse,"saidWonse."Iassumetherewerepeopleinit.Atnight,Imean."

           "Oh?Oh.Yes.Itwasn’tlikeanormalhouse.Ithinkitwassomesortofsecretsocietything,"Vimesmanaged.Somethingwasclickinginhismind,buthewastootiredtoexamineit.

           "Magic,youmean?"

           "Dunno,"saidVimes."Couldbe.Guysinrobes."

           He’sgoingtotellmeI’vebeenoverdoingit,hesaid.He’llberight,too.

           "Look,"saidWonse,kindly."Peoplewhomessaroundwithmagicanddon’tknowhowtocontrolit,well,theycanblowthemselvesupand-"

           "Blowthemselvesup?"

           "Andyou’vehadabusyfewdays,"saidWonsesoothingly."IfI’dbeenknockeddownandalmostburnedalivebyadragonIexpectI’dbeseeingthemallthetime."

           Vimesstaredathimwithhismouthopen.Hecouldn’tthinkofanythingtosay.Whateverstretchedandknottedelastichadbeendrivinghimalongtheselastfewdayshadgoneentirelylimp.

           "Youdon’tthinkyou’vebeenoverdoingit,doyou?"saidWonse.

           Ah,thoughtVimes.