Стража! Стража!

           you’regeography-"

           "Sergeant!"Carrotrepeatedurgently.

           "It’shistory,notgeography,"saidNobby."That’swhatyou’resupposedtosay.History.’You’rehistory!’yousay."

           "Well,whatever,"snappedColon."Let’sseehow-"

           "Sergeant!"

           Nobbywaslookingbehindthem,too.

           "Oh,shit,"hesaid.

           "Can’tmiss,"mutteredColon,takingaim.

           "Sergeant!"

           "Shutup,youtwo,Ican’tconcentratewhenyoukeepshout-"

           "Sergeant,it’scoming!"

           Thedragonaccelerated.

           ThedrunkenrooftopsofAnkh-Morporkblurredasitpassedover,wingssneeringattheair.Itsneckstretchedoutstraightahead,thepilotflamesofitsnostrilsstreamedbehindit,thesoundofitsflightpannedacrossthesky.

           Colon’shandsshook.Thedragonseemedtobeaimingathisthroat,anditwasmovingtoofast,fartoofast...

           "Thisisit!"saidCarrot.HeglancedtowardstheHub,incaseanygodshadforgottenwhattheyweretherefor,andadded,speakingslowlyanddistinctly,"It’samillion-to-one-chance,butitmightjustwork!"

           "Firethebloodything!"screamedNobby.

           "Pickingmyspot,lad,pickingmyspot,"quaveredColon."Don’tyouworry,lads,Itoldyouthisismyluckyarrow.First-classarrow,thisarrow,haditsinceIwasalad,you’dbeamazedatthethingsIshotatwiththis,don’tyouworry."

           Hepaused,asthenightmareboredownonhimonwingsofterror.

           "Er,Carrot?"hesaidmeekly.