Стража! Стража!

           "Yes,Sarge?"

           "Didyouroldgrandadeversaywhatavoonerablespotlookslike?"

           Andthenthedragonwasn’tapproachinganymore,itwasthere,passingafewfeetoverhead,astreamingmosaicofscalesandnoise,fillingtheentiresky.

           Colonfired.

           Theywatchedthearrowrisestraightandtrue.

           Vimeshalf-ran,half-staggeredoverthedampcobbles,outofbreathandoutoftime.

           Itcan’tbelikethis,hethoughtwildly.Theheroalwayscutsitfine,buthealwaysgettherejustinthenickoftime.Onlythenickoftimewasprobablyfiveminutesago.

           AndI’mnotahero.I’moutofcondition,andIneedadrink,andIgetahandfulofdollarsamonthwithoutplumesallowance.That’snothero’spay.Heroesgetkingdomsandprincesses,andtheytakeregularexercise,andwhentheysmilethelightglintsofftheirteeth,ting.Thebastards.

           Sweatstunghiseyes.Therushofadrenalinethathadcarriedhimoutofthepalacehadspentitself,andwasnowexactingitsinevitabletoll.

           Hestumbledtoahalt,andgrabbedawalltokeephimuprightwhilehegaspedforair.Andthushesawthefiguresontherooftop.

           Oh,no!hethought.They’renotheroeseither!Whatdotheythinkthey’replayingat?

           Itwasamillion-to-onechance.Andwhowastosaythat,somewhereinthemillionsofotherpossibleuniverses,itmightnothaveworked?

           Thatwasthesortofthingthegodsreallyliked.ButChance,whosometimescanoverruleeventhegods,has999,999castingvotes.

           Inthisuniverse,forexample,thearrowbouncedoffascaleandclatteredawayintooblivion.