Chris' Chronicles: Complete Edition

by Scolaro

Dimension travels are possible! Where would YOU go if had this chance? Legal disclaimer: This is not an interactive story! The question only attempts to evoke interest and suspense in the reader! No violation of rules at this point. Thank you.

5. IV A Discworld Experience

Author: Wyrd Sister
Fandom: Discworld (with a short trip to B5 later on)
Disclaimer: I know you know, so I keep it brief: I own nothing apart from Chris and the other characters I make up on the way.
Unfortunately I´m not making money with this story. But presents and cheques (and most of all: reviews) will be gratefully accepted… grin

Rating: Suitable for all ages
Summary: Dimension travels are possible after all! Join Chris and leap into the Discworld universe. What would YOU do if you had the chance?

---

You are about to hear the story of a traveller between worlds, between dimensions that have only one thing in common: All of them had been created by people of this world – my home world, the world you´re living in. My name is Christine, I´m 20 years old and live in Germany. And not long ago I had an experience most people dream of all their lives…now I can jump into TV- and book-dimensions, visit the heroes and their sidekicks - and jump back home whenever I want (IF I have some water - for whatever reason - to do the trick).

Chris´ Chronicles

Journal of a Dimension traveller

Part 4 – A Discworld Experience

Darkness all around me.
And strange noises, metallic noises.
And shuffling and moaning.

Where the hell was I?

On the other hand – especially when considering the noises - did I really want to know?

Suddenly a light appeared in a distance and began to move in my direction. I decided it was too slow to be a train, so I just backed away a bit and waited for its owner to come closer.

Actually I had intended to leap into the garden of Unseen University. From the Discworld computergame (the first one that is) I knew my way around town from there. Instead I stood in an old room with a funky smell. It seemed to be a huge room as well, because the light hadn´t moved much closer in the past seconds. I still couldn´t see my sorroundings.

Suddenly the light disappeared and I cursed silently. Why didn´t I bring a torch?
"Because it wouldn´t have fit in this environment." the voice in my head explained patiently.

Right.

Anyway, here I was, stuck in a room full of weird noises and a strange – but not unfamiliar – smell. It smelled…old. Like in a retirement home. Well, not exactly, but…there was wax and…

Something touched my shoulder and, with a gasp, I whirled around.

A red cushion with a lantern in its hand eyed me suspiciously.
"Hi", I said to the Librarian, "sorry if I disturbed you. Can you show me the way out of here?"
"Ook." was the simple reply and a strong hairy hand took my arm and pulled me away from the corner with the bookshelf marked "vary dansherus, do not feet!"

There was a disappointed shuffling followed by a crackling sound – like chains –, then everything went quiet.

The orang-utan led me through a labyrinth of packed bookshelves till we came to a small table near a wooden door. He placed the lantern carefully on the desk and turned to me.
"Ook?!"
"It´s hard to explain. I must have…taken a wrong turn. Actually I wanted to land in the garden."
"Ooook?"

I felt it didn´t matter, so I told him.
"From another dimension. But I´d like to keep it a secret."
The Librarian scratched his head, found a flea and ate it absently. Then he nodded.
"Ook."
"Thank you. My name is Chris, by the way." I said and extended my hand, which he shook.
"Oook."
"Well, if you don´t mind…I´m on my way to the Assassins´ Guild. You know if Lord Downey´s still headmaster?"
"Ook."
"Thanks a lot. See you later!"

I left the library and found myself in a hallway leading to a huge wooden portal. No one was around when I stepped into the dim morning light, but this didn´t surprise me much since most of the wizards wouldn´t be up before noon.

Walking towards the outside portal that separated UU from the rest of the city I hesitated, then changed my route and went along the stone wall till I found what I was looking for: The "secret" passage wizards and students used when they came home late at night after spending the evening drinking in the "Mended Drum".

Grinning I ducked and went through.

-----ooooo-----

I was actually standing in Ankh-Morpork. The capital of the Discworld.

I took a deep breath…and nearly chocked.
The smell was indeed breathtaking.
Like a cadaver.

Obviously Terry Pratchett´s discriptions were indeed very … accurate. And with sudden shock I realized it was about to become a warm summer´s day.
Well, you probably got used to it after a while.

At least I desperately hoped so.

-----ooooo-----

Ankh-Morpork.
Nothing can prepare you for this city.
It´s loud and smelly and the streets are full of people: humans, dwarfs, trolls, merchants, beggars - the pale guy in the shredded clothes looked pretty much like a zombie.

Donkeys pulled carts with vegetables and fruits through the narrow streets and occassionally someone emptied a bucket from a second-floor window. A stray dog marked his territory at a house wall. It didn´t look very ugly, so it probably wasn´t Gaspode.

I followed the main street, knowing exactly where I was and where I had to go.

Five minutes later I was completely lost.

-----ooooo-----

After walking by some of the city´s sights (like Harga´s House of Ribs and the Mended Drum) I spotted Carrot Ironfoundersson in the crowd and squeezed myself through to him.

"Excuse me, Captain? Could you show me the way to the Assassins´ Guild House?"
"Of course." he smiled, "you are almost there. This is God Street. You see the building over there? This is the Fools´ Guild. Take the next turn – that would be Filigree Street – the house right next to it."
"Thanks a lot, Captain."

"My pleasure."

I turned around and went in the direction he´d pointed to.

He looked a bit different, of course, but Carrot always reminded me of Constable Benton Fraser from the TV-series "Due South". One as straight and dutifull as the other. And good-looking, too.

Grinning I arrived at the huge portal of the Assassins´ Guild.

It was open (as always) and no one in sight.

-----ooooo-----

I marched through the forecourt and entered the building.
The stairs were remarkably clean.
In fact they looked like nobody ever used them.
Of course this was true, since Assassins prefered walls and windows.

I knocked at the door with the sign saying "Lord Downey, Headmaster" and a pleasant voice allowed me to enter.

A thin grey-haired man in his early 50s (maybe a bit older, I´m not very good at guessing) sat behind the huge wooden desk. Lots of paperwork was spread out in front of him. He gave me a friendly smile, placed the feather he was writing with carefully back in the inkwell and rised.

"Good Morning, young lady. How can I help you?"
"Good Morning, Lord Downey." I resisted the habit of offering my hand, but nodded instead. Better be careful around Assassins. You can get killed by a simple accident.
"My name is Christine Stein. I´d like to have a word with you about enrolling at your school."

He raised an eyebrow.
"I´m very sorry, but you are…" he stopped, "I mean, usually children start their education at the age of eight, sometimes nine. You…" he stopped again, obviously looking for a polite version of telling me I should collect my false teeth and search for the next retirement home.

"I´m 20 years old." I told him patiently, "and I could easily skip some of the lessons, like language or geography. It´s more the…fighting skills I´m interested in."
He threw me a sharp look.

"Miss Stein, I don´t think you are aware of what you are asking for. The Assassins´ Guild provides the best education you will find in- or outside of Ankh-Morpork. What you call "fighting skills" are regarded as important as, for instance, history or language skills. You can´t just "skip" them."

I sighed.
"Ask me anything in any language you know."

When he hesitated, I nodded.
"Anything."

The headmaster thought for a moment, his gaze resting on me, then made a noise like - let´s face it - a pig.
Only a moment later the bablefish delivered the translation.
"From someplace called "Germany"," I answered smiling, "it´s a very small country near…Überwald."
There was another question, growled this time.
"No, there´s neither werewolf nor vampire blood in my veins."

The questioning went on, but - again - the bablefish did a fantastic job.

Finally Lord Downey raised the other eyebrow as well.
"Most impressive. However, there´s no way for you to join the school, I´m afraid. We start with very young children for a reason. They learn faster. And they are more likely to survive when raised within these walls."

I wasn´t about to give up yet.
"I know it´s tough. All I ask for is a chance to prove myself."

"Do you have any idea what an Assassin´s education costs?"

That was a weak point. Having arrived only hours ago I didn´t have any money. But I hadn´t thought much about this – first I´d wanted to talk to Lord Downey.
"Mhm. Not exactly."
"It´s not only money, but effort from every member of the teaching staff. And – please don´t misunderstand me – it´s more likely for you to end up dead."
"What about private lessons? I´d have a better chance if I took some of them, right?"
"Our teachers are occupied with the normal lessons already…"
"There certainly are a few guys who just finished school, aren´t there? They could do it."

The headmaster scratched his nose.
"An unusual idea."

Then he shook his head as if to get rid of an unpleasant thought.
"No, I´m afraid, young lady, I can´t help you."

A look in his face shattered the last bit of hope.
"Thank you for your time, Lord Downey." I said disappointed, turned…and nearly ran into a woman standing behind me. My hand went in the direction of the bottle I was carrying, but I caught myself in time. The woman – very elegantly dressed in a black pantsuit – smiled at me and opened the door to let me out.

Astonished I managed to glide out without letting either one of the two Assassins out of my sight, then the door closed and I stood on the stairway again.

"That could have gone better."

-----ooooo-----

What now?
"Well, you´re in Ankh-Morpork for the first time, why not seeing some sights?"

I didn´t really feel like it, but maybe meeting some „celebrities" would cheer me up.

Bridges and all sorts of temples were my first destination. Especially the priests of the crocodile-god Offler did a great show complete with goat sacrifice and everything.

Walking through the harbour area and – later – through the beautiful streets of Ankh and marvelling at the houses of the rich and famous didn´t cost anything either. I didn´t see the "Sunshine Sanctuary for Sick Dragons", but was already too tired to continue my search. It was already getting dark when I spotted a building with a familiar sign.

The "Mended Drum".

Near the popular bar I saw C.M.O.T. Dibbler.
There was no mistake about his identity, because he was running around with a wooden tray in front of his belly, selling his infamous sausages.
He approached me when I crossed the place to take a look at the inside of the Drum.
"Sausage? Inna bun?"
"No, thank you."
"These are my last ones!", he exclaimed, "I can give you both for…half the usual price. And I cut me own…"
"Sorry, Mr. Dibbler", I said while turning my pockets inside out, "I haven´t got any money on me."

A half-eaten muffin and two small coins fell out of the left pocket and I caught them in midair.
"So what are these, then?" Dibbler asked sceptically.
"10 and 50 Pfennig. Money from my country. You wouldn´t want it."
While talking we had moved inside the Drum and were standing at one of the tables near the bar. I spotted the Librarian, Nobby Nobbs (no way to be mistaken about his identity!), Sergeant Colon, some travellers holding huge beer jugs in a corner, and a couple of wizards playing cards.

Dibbler´s eyes never left the coins in my hand.
"I tell you what. I´ll swap these…worthless coins with two of my marvellous sausages-inna-bun. I only use the best meat for them."

Sighing I looked at the buns.
"I take one for one coin."
"But…"
"Take it or leave it, Mr. Dibbler."

With amazing speed he handed me a bun and I gave him the 10-Pfennig-coin.
"You are a good trader, young lady. And it´s just Dibbler. Or Throat."
"I´ll see you around, Throat." I grinned when he left and took a bite of the sausage.
Then another.

Suddenly the conversation around me seemed to die down.
I looked up and found everyone staring at me. I turned my head, but there was only the wall behind me. I turned it back and eyed the people suspiciously.
"What?!"
An old wizard rised from his seat.
"That´s one of Dibbler´s sausages, isn´t it?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"Um…don´t you feel like…running out of the bar in a hurry?"
"No…"
Another one pointed at me with his staff.
"You don´t want to roll over the floor screaming?"
"Actually, I´d rather drink something." I said and showed the bartender the silvery 50-Pfennig-coin. "Do I get a lemonade with this?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded and reached for a bottle with yellow liquid and a milky glass. I slid on a seat at the counter, next to the Librarian, who lifted a finger and was brought another bowl of peanuts.

Everyone watched me gulping the last piece of my bun. When I showed no sign of unusual behaviour (well, that was obviously considered "unusual behaviour") the disappointed guests went back to their conversations.

The Librarian peeled a peanut and pushed the bowl in my direction.
"Oook?"
"Thank you."
I took a nut.
"Ook?"
"Not very good, I´m afraid. I just wanted to find out how to get a proper education at the Assassins´ School, but Lord Downey didn´t give me much of a chance."
"Oook."
I looked up and met his gaze.
"No, I don´t feel like choking and wailing, thank you very much. What´s wrong with you people? It was just a sausage-inna-bun – it didn´t even taste so bad."
There was pure astonishment in the ape´s eyes. Then he patted me on the shoulder and raised his arm.
I followed the pointing finger and saw a very pale man in a corner of the room, sitting on a chair, holding his belly and groaning loudly. His head jerked to the side every once in a while.

"Ook!"
"Sensible stomach?" I suggested.
"Ook!!"
I raised my hands in a calming gesture.
"Okay, okay, then my behaviour is a bit…weird, but you see – when you eat at McDonald´s often your stomach either builds up a stronger skin or you die sooner or later."
"Oook?"
"A fastfood place in my dimension. A bit like Harga´s House of Ribs, only with paper hats. All kinds of burgers and stuff. Probably similar ingredients to those Dibbler uses for his takeaways. It´s just a bit more expensive."

The Librarian shook his head.
"Eeek!"
"Some people try to avoid it. But my generation is quite addicted to the food. To be honest: McDonald´s hamburgers taste a bit like Dibbler´s sausages…"
"Ook. Oook!"

I shrugged and ate another peanut.
"Dibbler seems to make good profits as well."

Suddenly another wizard stormed into the bar. "Wizzard" was written on his worn out pointy hat. A large wooden chest on dozends of little legs followed at his heels.
Fascinated I watched as Rincewind ordered something to drink, gulped it, turned around and stormed out again. The Luggage stayed a little while longer, walked around the tavern and begged (or rather "demanded") the guests for a drink or whatever they had on their plates. It was given without hesitation.

Occassionally it bit someone who didn´t drop their food fast enough.

When it came to me, I shrugged and showed him the empty peanut bowl.
"Sorry pal, you´re too late."

The Luggage opened its lid and clacked angrily. The Librarian had already found a save place on a rod under the roof. Quick footsteps indicated that several people had backed away and left the bar in a hurry.
The majority waited.

Preferably near the door.

I slid from my chair and crouched next to the snarling chest. It obviously hadn´t expected this, since everyone seemed to try to stay away from it, even increase the distance if possible.
I patted its lid and heard a few groans from the crowd.
"Tell you what, buddy," I said and searched my pockets, "I still have a piece of muffin left, how ´bout this?"
The lid raised and again several people stepped away a bit. My muffin disappeared between clean sheets and underwear and I heard a satisfied munch.
"Now that´s a good…Luggage. It´s already dark outside. Why don´t you follow your friend in case he runs into some bad guys?"

Irritated the lid clacked again, then the Luggage moved in the direction of the exit. Panic broke out among the people near the door (about 97% of the guests) and everybody moved out of the way as quickly as possible.

Then the wooden chest had left and the Librarian dropped heavily back on his seat.
"Oook!!"
"It´s just like a big dog," I assured him, "if you treat it nicely and aren´t afraid of it…well, then there is nothing to be afraid of."

The orang-utan obviously didn´t share my opinion. When he turned around to leave I got up as well.
"Would you mind if I walked back with you? As far as I heard, Ankh-Morpork can be quite dangerous at night."

-----ooooo-----

A worn-out mattress and a pillow stuffed in a bookshelf were my bed for the night.

I´d slept under worse conditions before (some hostel-beds in Australia have mattresses thin as paper, with thick wooden bars underneath – in different heights, of course), and at least it was warm and dry.
The Librarian slept a few shelves further up.

In the middle of the night I was woken by singing and stamping. The members of the faculty were coming back from the bar. Grinding my teeth I tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible.

Sighing I got up, left the snoring Librarian and walked out of the building. It was a beautiful night, full of stars. Frogs were quaking somewhere and the smell of the city wasn´t that bad anymore. I kept a distance to Modo´s compost heaps (which was easy since they are glowing in the dark), and sat next to the small lake.
With a splash a frog jumped back into the dark water.
I settled back onto the lawn and watched the stars.

Suddenly a shadow stood between me and the night sky.
Startled I jumped up.
"Who´re you?"

When it didn´t respond I drew the only thing I had with me – my water bottle.
"Stay back", I hissed, "I´m not afraid to use this!"

With an elegant movement the figure pulled the hood of his cloak back and the handsome face of a young man appeared. He was smiling and waved his hands in a calming gesture.
"Don´t worry, if I´d wanted to kill you, you´d already be dead."
"Very…charming." I managed and kept the bottle in a firm grip.
"Actually", the man cheerfully continued, "I could without much effort think of 12 different ways to kill you right now."
"Think again", I suggested growling, " ´cause any of them would result in the extinction of your branch of the family tree!"

His smile faded, but only for a moment. Then it broadened even more.
"Relax. As I said, I´m not here to kill you. My name´s Chidder. Lord Downey wants a word with you and thus sent me here."
"How do I know that´s true?"
He searched his pockets, produced a piece of paper from one and held it out.
"No, I don´t think so." I smiled grimly, "put it on the ground and step back."

Raising an eyebrow he did as he was told.
Never leaving the Assassin out of my sight I took a small handkerchief from my pocket and picked the note up.
It said:

To Miss Kristine Steyn. On the condition that you still wish to enroll at the Assassins´ Guild´s school I´d be pleased if you accepted this invitation for a detailed discussion of the matter. Lord Downey, Headmaster.

When I looked up again Chidder had disappeared.

"Very funny", I grunted.
"If you´re ready..." a voice next to my right ear said and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Whirling around I found Chidder had – very gentlemen-like - already extended an arm. I threw another glance at the paper, one at the Assassin and shrugged. He had a point: If he´d want me dead, I´d already had my final celebrity meeting. So I took his arm and allowed him to lead me through the dark city in the direction of Filigree Street.

-----ooooo-----

Chidder looked around a little irritated.
"This way?" I asked and pointed to the door with the familiar sign.
"Um…yes, sure. It´s just…I never took the stairs before…"

He knocked at the door of the headmaster´s office.
"Come."
The office was more crowded this time. Ten darkly dressed people were standing around stiffly. I looked around and felt like entering a bat cave.

"Ah, Miss Stein." Lord Downey smiled and came around his desk, "Mr. Chidder found you. Good, good…" he rubbed his hands.
"Well, yes, Lord Downey", I said puzzled, "but why did you want to see me?"
"I have good news for you. Your request has been discussed and the Guild is willing to allow you to take part in a new educational program."

I tried to figure out the meaning of the sentence.
"You mean I can enroll?"

The lady I´d met when leaving the headmaster´s office earlier that day was playing with her jewelry.
"Not as a regular student. It will be an experiment. We´d like to find out if a … I mean someone your age…is still capable of passing the final."
"Of course", a fat man added beaming, "there´s no guarantee that you will survive."
"You will have to work very hard." another man said cold, "And not only when it comes to your…favourite subjects. Everything is important!"

The fat Assassin patted the other one on his shoulder.
"Now now, Mericet, you wouldn´t want to scare the young lady, before she even had her first lesson with you?"

Lord Downey turned to me.
"The education will consist of most of the usual subjects. You will be taught by postgraduates mainly, but the teachers will see that they fulfill the assignment satisfyingly. If you survive the final, you will be a fully certified Assassin. Do you accept?"

I stared into the expectant faces of the elegant dressed teachers and thought about what hadn´t been mentioned yet.
"It´s an experiment."
"Very much so."
"What do I have to pay for it, then?"

They exchanged careful glances. Obviously the discussion about this particular topic hadn´t ended in agreement.

Finally Lord Downey leaned against his desk and folded his arms.
"Since this has never been done before, we offer you a free scholarship." he announced slowly and turned to fish a list from his desk.
"Lady T'Malia will see that you get everything you need to begin your studies." he handed me the list. "There is an unused attic room in the Black Widow House. I suggest you move in as soon as you learned how to enter it through the window."

His gaze fell on Chidder, who was still standing behind me, near the door.
"Mr. Chidder is going to be your main advisor. He will show you around and begin with explaining the basic rules, such as good manners, suitable clothing and – most important - the Rules of Assassination."

I took the list, glanced at the smirking Chidder and nodded.
"Thank you, Lord Downey."
"My pleasure, Miss Stein."

Only hours later I was running over the roofs of Ankh-Morpork in a black pantsuit, on my first tour through the neighbourhood of the Guild House.

-----ooooo-----

"Use your hands and feet! Like this!"
Shivering in the cold I held on to the stone in front of my face and watched as Chidder climbed swiftly to the top of the gong tower and back to me.
Reaching for the next stone I slowly followed him, desperately trying not to look down. The ground seemed to be so much lower than usual.

"Good gods, it´s barely rated 1.8. Get a grip and come up, girl!"

I hated it when he addressed me like this. After all he was just 2 months older than me. The anger gave me strenghts and I lifted myself up to the dome on top, panting heavily as I kneeled next to the young Assassin.

He sighed dramatically.
"If you don´t learn how to climb properly, you´ll end up dead for sure."

He drew a dagger and I turned to face him.
"Don´t you dare start a fight here! I promise you, I´ll use my upcoming panic to push you down!"
Smirking he handed me the dagger.
"Every student carves their initials in the dome. It´s a tradition. You just have to find some space."
I found it somewhere between Teppic´s and Arthur Ludorum´s carvings and spent nearly 10 minutes adding the two letters.

"Fine." Chidder said and blew his hands to keep them warm, "You can go back now. "Strategy and Poison Theory" starts in 15 minutes. You better hurry: Mr. Mericet can get very…unpleasant, when his students are late."

With these words he disappeared from the small platform and crawled back to the ground like a spider.

Sighing I followed him, moving very slowly and carefully. Usually I don´t mind heights and you certainly have a beautiful view from the gong tower, but…well, it´s awfully high and Assassins never use a security net. Of course I always carried my waterbottle with me, just in case I´d have to jump out of this dimension in a hurry, but still: Can you really think fast enough when the ground approaches you at high speed?

Of course I was late for the lesson.

Mericet let me recite half the book of "Poisonious Herbs of Lancre", before he began a lecture about famous strategist of the Disc. Sometimes it could be rather dull, but – as every student in every dimension – I knew how to fake interest. Besides, he would eat me alive if I didn´t pay attention, so I did most of the time.

Fat and good-natured Grunworth Nivor was next. We got along quite well, he had some funny anecdotes about former clients and the different and often inventive ways they had been inhumed. He told me while I was working at the exercise.
With me being his only student he was also able to move at a faster pace as he normally could with a whole class.
He handed me a couple of sticks, stones and a wire. With these items I had to build a trap. Well, the model of a trap, of course.

That was one of my favourite tasks, I really loved it. Some people relax when sticking maggots or worms on little hooks and wait all day for a fish to gulp the bait, but I could spend hours thinking up new traps, building them in my mind, sketching them on a piece of paper and actually putting them together.

I got absorbed in this and the lesson always seemed to be shorter than the others.

There were a few subjects I didn´t like so much (same as in my home dimension), but what I really hated was "music". Every Assassin had to learn at least two musical instruments and I´m just totally lost when it comes to musical notes or staying in tune. I can´t even hum a single note properly.

Kompt de Yoyo was known to look forward to our private lessons pretty much the same way I did: With obvious pain to the back of the spine.

It became a running gag among the students: When both of us were walking around as if having toothache, they always grinned and made remarks about late musicians who – if they ever happened to walk around enjoying their afterlife and by sheer accident heard my performance – would turn around at once and go back to their graves.
They even said Kompt de Yoyo would gladly follow them.

The two of us were practically torturing each other.

After 3 months he had a talk with Lord Downey, who summoned me to his office and informed me that he´d removed music from my schedule. Visibly relieved the Kompt and I had left the headmaster at this day. I shared the news (and a few drinks) with some girls from the Black Widow House and am quite sure the Kompt had his own private celebration.

Anyway, apart from this and my problems with climbing I had a great time at the Guild school and thanks to the private lessons I caught up with the other first year students pretty quick.

Then came the day when I fell off the tower of the Patrician´s palace.

-----ooooo-----

It had been a good morning.

Chidder pulled the knives out of the dartboard and handed them back, smiling.
"Not too bad. Try it with more force now. Imagine a very heavy client – you´d have the knife cutting through several layers of fat."
I raised my hand slowly, concentrated and let the knife fly. It hit the middle of the board and stuck. Chidder nodded approvingly.
"Better. Okay, I think we can stop now and do some more climbing practice."

Groaning I took the knives and hid them under my cloak.
"Take the crossbow as well", my advisor added merciless, "I want you to practice with the weight on your shoulder."

We left Guild property the traditional way: Over the wall.
Running over the rooftops of Ankh-Morpork was quite an experience – it was practically a city of its own, just…well, several stories above.
On the way to the palace Chidder pointed to signs we or members of other Guilds had fixed on chimneys and wooden bridges that connected the roofs.
I recited as quickly as possible.
"Thiefsign for "Immunity from burglary" for 3 months. Our sign for "Passage to dull street under construction", Thieves´ for "friendly dog in the house", Thieves´ for "robbed last Friday",…"

Suddenly we stood on top of a building near our destination. It smelled of horses, hay and…well, hay, that had already been eaten by horses.

Chidder kneeled down and looked around. Following his gaze I found it was just a usual morning in the stables of the Patrician. Maybe a bit quieter than usual.
"Shoot an arrow up to the wooden plank on top of the tower." my avisor told me.
I chose a size 4, aimed and fired. The arrow hit the target in the upper left corner, but it was still the right plank.
"Fine. Now get it."

I shouldered the crossbow, jumped onto another roof until I reached the foot of the tower. Glancing at its smooth surface I desperately hoped I wouldn´t run out of knives on my way up.

Of course I did, after about 3/4 of the way.

-----ooooo-----

Near a window I rested and looked down, searching for Chidder. I couldn´t see him, but this meant nothing – as a full trained Assassin he knew how to hide properly.
A few metres above me the arrow hang motionless. With the help of two or three others, firmly tied together, I could have reached it from where I was.
But that would have been cheating.

So I rose again and made my way to the top, slowly and carefully.

On my way down with the arrow deeply buried in the depths of my cloak, I collected my knives again, one after the other. All of a sudden a window was opened right next to my head and the frame hit me on the shoulder.

I lost my grip and fell instantly.

-----ooooo-----

"Shitshitshitshitshit..."

I thrust my arms out and felt my fingertips gliding over the smooth stone of the tower, desperately searching for a stone or whatever could support me at the very moment. Suddenly I got hold of a window sill, hang there for a second, fumbling for my waterbottle, then the old wood cracked and I was falling again.

The scene repeated itself twice, before I reached the ground. It was a tough landing.
Pain shot through my left arm and my hands felt as if I´d touched a hot stove.
But at least I was still alive.

Suddenly Chidder kneeled at my side, a bit paler than usual.
"Good gods, Chris, are you okay?"
People could really think of a better line in these situations.

"I´m not dead, if it´s that what you mean." I croaked and sat up. My arm hung useless from my shoulder. At a very unhealthy looking angle.
"We´ve got to get you back to the Guild. The san…"
"No." I interrupted quickly, glancing around the empty backyard I had landed in, "just help me to this shed there, will you?"
He threw me a doubtful look, but took my good arm and steered me to a tiny shed behind the stables. No one was in sight.
There were buckets and brushes and pitchforks and dozens of other tools you need in a stable. I slid on the ground and leaned against the wall.
My left arm hurt like hell.

But I´d be damned if I let one of the so-called "healers" of this dimension touch it. Besides, I couldn´t afford losing too much time being sick. In just a few weeks were first years´ finals and I´d planned to take part.

"Please go back and tell Lady T´Malia I won´t be there in time for "Political Expediency". But I try to return at dinner time." I said and thought for a moment, "Or rather tomorrow."

Chidder shook his head in disbelief.
"What are you talking about? I won´t leave you here. I get a cart from the stables and bring you back."
I rolled my eyes.
"That wasn´t exactly a request. Just go back and leave it to me, okay? I will follow you as soon as I can!"
"Why? What are you doing?"
"Visiting some friends. Now please…go! And close the door."
Hesitatingly he stepped outside, then turned and looked back.
"But…"
"Please, Chidder."

With a doubtful expression he closed the door. Quickly I reached for the bottle and opened it. The portal opened and I was soaked into it, hoping that I´d arrive where I wanted, but even more than that - also when I wanted.

-----ooooo-----

The next landing wasn´t much better than the first. I nearly lost conciousness.
But it had worked, this was Babylon 5 alright.
DownBelow, to be exact.
Kind of the Shades of this station.
And as its counterpart in the other dimension it had its own sharks gliding through the corridors, searching for easy prey.The first guy trying to rob the helpless girl got a knife between the ribs, the second one a kick into a most sensitive area.
I may not be a certified Assassin yet, but I know how to handle a couple of amateur street robbers, in any dimension.
Although a crossbow is a weapon you can´t operate well on a space station, it impressed the other two men enough to leave the area quickly.

I got up slowly, searching the shadows for other adventurous people and started walking in the direction of the core shuttle that would bring me to MedLab.

-----ooooo-----

I got some odd looks on the way.

Well, even here I wasn´t something you saw everyday: A girl running around with an obviously broken arm, dressed all in black, old-fashioned clothes and carrying a wooden crossbow.

Dr. Franklin´s jaw dropped when I stepped into the infirmary, but his healer instinct kicked in instantly and without asking unnecessary questions he steered me to a bed and inspected the damage.

I stopped the hand with the syringe.
"Nothing too strong, I don´t want to pass out."
"It´s just a local anesthetic. You don´t want to feel anything when I push the joint back into the socket, do you?"
I released his hand.
"Rather not."

With a crack the joint went back where it belonged and after a few seconds of laser theraphy (or whatever it was that closed the wounds at my fingers) he bandaged my arm and stepped back.

"Don´t use it within the next two weeks."
"Two weeks?! Can´t you just…give me another shot or so? I need it in a few days."

Dr. Franklin waved his hands.
"What do you think I am? A mechanic? The arm needs rest. I don´t want you to use it within the next two weeks."
He leaned forward.
"Did I make myself clear?"
I looked into the stern face and gulped.
"Perfectly clear."
"Good!"

I watched him marching out of the room and caught a glimpse of someone in a security uniform addressing him. They talked for a few moments, then the man turned and stepped into the room.
"Michael." I grinned and hopped from the bed.
He caught my arm (the good one) when dizziness darkened my soroundings.
"Easy. One broken arm is enough, don´t you think?"
I shook my head to clear it.
"Yeah, I guess it is. How long have I been…away?"
He leaned next to me against the bed.
"Nearly two weeks now. We were already worried."
"Only two weeks?"

I had spent 9 months on the Disc already, without a break for vacation or anything due to the fact that I didn´t know when (that is: at which point in DW-"history") I´d be back next time. But maybe I always landed after the point of my first arrival. Which was logical in a strange way. Not that I could explain it, it just felt right somehow.

"Yep. The commander and Susan are on the way and we want to hear everything. Where on earth did you get this?" he reached for the crossbow and examined it carefully.

"We use them at school." I said cheerfully and waved Commander Sinclair and Susan Ivanova, who where just entering the infirmary.

-----ooooo-----

I gave them a short summary of the events after I´d left the station last time.

Sinclair raised an eyebrow.
"Assassins´ School?"

"They provide the best education on the whole Disc. And I got a free scholarship."

Susan looked quite disapprovingly either.
"A school for killers?"

This would take more time than I had.

I rubbed my eyes.
"Look, I can´t explain everything right now, I have to go back. First years´finals start soon and I still need preparation. Hogswatch holidays are just a few weeks later, then I´ll return and tell you all about the Discworld-dimension, okay?"

They exchanged glances.
"Hogswatch?"
"Disworld?"

"I will explain everything, I promise. Just not now."

-----ooooo-----

Another glass of water brought me back to Ankh-Morpork.

Morning light was already sweaping over the roofs when I finally arrived in Filigree Street.
I knocked at Chidder´s window and backed away to avoid getting killed by the poisoned dart that shot out of a crack in the glass. The boy was paranoid, like every Assassin.

You could say paranoia comes with the job.

Only seconds after the dart the owner of the room swang out and stopped right in front of me, sticking to the wall like a fly.
"Where have you been? When I came back to get you…"
"Now I´m here. And everything´s fine, isn´t it?" I smiled.
He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me onto the roof.
"Don´t…and I mean don´t…ever do this again to me, understand? I turned the whole area upside down to find you."
I was surprised and also a bit touched.
"Hell, Chidder, I didn´t know you…"
"Lord Downey told me to look after you, so that´s what I did. Tried to do. It´s not like I asked for it, okay?"
I hid a smile.
This guy was easier to read than he probably thought.
"Okay, I understand. Sorry for this, really."
I lifted the bandaged arm a little.
"I just let someone put this on. He said it would be good as new in two weeks."
That wasn´t exactly what Dr. Franklin had said, but close enough.

Chidder frowned.
"Your friend´s a wizard? Normally these things take more than a month."
"Sort of. He´s very good at his job, so expect me to take part in the finals."

The young man shook his head, then waved his hand in the direction of the classrooms.
"First you´ll have to catch up with "Political Expediency". Lady T´Malia said she was still waiting for an essay about the Ankh-Morporkian Royal Family up to "Lorenzo The Kind". And Mericet gave me a list of complex poison mixes for you to learn by heart until next week. You see…" he shrugged, "There´s still plenty to do for the finals, even if you can´t use your arm right now. So we better get moving, shall we?"

-----ooooo-----

"You´re lucky, you know…"
"What do you mean?"

Jill and I were sitting in the Black Widow common room. She was a polite 14 year old sewing addict. Even now she was working on her black dress, inserting an invisible pocket into the wrist sections, where she planned to hide small pieces of equipment. Poisoned needles or a wire for picking locks.

I was sweating over a map of the Ankh-Morpork sewers. One of the tasks when attending first year finals was crossing them from one side to the other without getting lost and without letting the second years catch you in the process. My sense of direction wasn´t so bad, but this labyrinth changed its shape every once in a while and it was important to keep up-to-date.

"I mean", Jill continued, while steering the needle over the cloth, "that you are most fortunate to have Chidder as advisor."

"That´s true", I replied, not really knowing what made her say that, "he may not be very patient most of the time, but he´s good at explaining things. When Mericet gave me the book about the quotes of this famous strategist – what´s his name…"

Jill rolled her eyes.
"That´s not what I meant. Good grief, Chris, don´t you ever think of anything else apart from school?"
"Not recently." I told her, then something dawned at the corner of my mind and I stared at the other girl, "You´re not implying that Chidder and I…"

"Why not? He´s only two months older than you, very good-looking and has a decent job. Besides, I heard from Stuart Frey – you know, the funny brown-haired third year, who nearly got killed in the Shades last month – that Chidder told Arthur Ludorum that the two of you had a great time down in the sewers."
"In the sewers." I repeated.
She beamed at me.
"Yes! Isn´t this exciting?"
"He told Arthur we had a great time in the sewers?"
"That´s what Stuart heard. Isn´t it romantic?"

I shook my head to get the image of two lovebirds walking hand-in-hand through the stinking city sewers out of my head.

"We were training for the finals." I said slowly, "He attacked me constantly. I was barely alive when we got out again. And not even half a dozen showers get the smell out of your skin when you spend the day down there. What exactly can be romantic about the sewers?!"

She gave me a knowing smile.
"The two of you. Alone. In the darkness." she sighed, "I´ve read books about these situations."
"About people falling in love in sewers?"
"No, silly, about how to find the man of your dreams – and marry him."

I snored.
"Don´t read everything you believe."

She reached over to the chair next to her and handed me a heavy leather book.
The cover said:
"How to find the man of your dreems and merry him"
"Now look at this", I grinned, "even if there aren´t too many difficult words one could possibly spell wrong, they always seem to find some anyway."

Jill ignored the remark.
"It says you should spend time together, share each others interests and shallen…tshellen…dschallenge each other."
She smiled triumphantly, "You and Chidder are on the right path to the perfect marriage. You should only wear dresses every now and then, Chris, men like girls who dress…properly. I´m sure Lady T´Malia told you something like that either, didn´t she?"

"I´m happy with my pantsuit!" I growled, "And please stop pairing us off, will you? I´m here to become an Assassin, not a bride."

The girl made a face.
"You should tell Sarah Rubis. And Betty Drowner. They would love to lay a hand on your handsome advisor. In fact, their faces always turn green when the two of you walk by together."

I considered this.
"You mean dark-haired third year Sarah Rubis who accidentially dropped her crossbow when I passed the exercise area the other day? Only two inches closer and the arrow would have hit me in the neck."

Jill nodded.
"This Sarah. She´s quite good with the bow, I wonder why she missed."
Another face formed in my mind.
"And green-eyed, long-legged Betty Drowner who tried to poison my food with crocus seeds last Octeday?"
"Yes. The one who´s afraid of rats."

I rubbed my eyes and groaned.
"I´d never have guessed! I thought they were only trying to kill me…well, you know, to test their skills. That it was because of a guy…"
Grimly I looked at my map, then slowly folded the paper.
"They should be ashamed! You don´t kill for personal reasons – you kill for money! Really! Every first year knows that!"

Jill cut the rest of string and put her sewing kit back into the wooden box.
"Tell them. Anyway, do you have the afternoon off? Sally and Karen want to go to Hogswatch market, they already got headmaster´s permission. You want to come with us?"

Having grown-up-privileges at school came in handy every now and then. In my spare time I could come and go as I pleased. Underaged students had to get a permission slip first.

I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
"Sure, why not?"

-----ooooo-----

Snow was beginning to fall, when we arrived at the market. Ankh-Morpork looks really beautiful when covered. The more snow the better.

As Assassins in training we stayed in the background, hands deep in our pockets, and even stopped from time to time to lean against things and yawn in a knowing manner. They are very strict about these procedures at school, you have to act in certain ways when you´re trained by a Guild.

This didn´t keep us from buying a candied apple each and do some chri… hogswatch shopping, though.

"I still need a present for my little brother", Sally exclaimed desperately, "you think he´d like this?" and she waved a stuffed animal that could have been a rabbit (but only with much imagination, while looking in the other direction).
"I give it to you for only 20 cents and I cut me own throat!"
"Hi Dibbler," I greeted the trader, "how´re you doing?"
"Very well," CMOT smiled, when Sally handed him the money and stuffed the animal under her cloak, "Hogswatch is good for business. Everyone wants something fluffy to give to their beloved. Do you still need presents, young lady? Maybe for someone special? I can make you a good price."

I ignored the sniggering behind me.
"No, thank you."
"Look, I have something new here", he added quickly and searched the pile of ugly toys. Finally he found what he was looking for and triumphantly waved it in front of our faces.
"What´s this?" Jill asked curiously.

"This, young lady, is a "Man-that-smokes-when-you-put-a-glowing-flake-in". Its got a hole where the mouth is, see? You light one of these flavoured little cylinders and put them in the belly. Then the smoke comes out of its mouth and fills the room with Hogswatch feeling."

Karen laughed.
"It even has a pipe. How cute. It would look like it was smoking the pipe."

I tapped against the figure.
"Um…Dibbler? It´s made of straw, isn´t it?"
"Certainly! I buy it from the best stables in Ankh-Morpork. I only use the best material for my customers."

I gave the figure back.
"So it most likely will catch fire in the process and burn down the house if you´re not careful."

Dibbler beamed.
"Hogswatch can be full of surprises. And this little toy here comes with a voucher for 30% reduction on nearly new furniture. A real bargain."

I rolled my eyes.
"Right you are. C´mon girls, it´s getting cold - let´s go back."

We got some sweets from a cart on the way, passed the line of children waiting to hop on a fake Hogfather´s lap, and turned around a few corners, slowly moving away from the busy market.

The night was cold and dark and the streets empty.
Everything was quiet.

Suddenly there was a wailing noise nearby.

We exchanged glances.
"It came from there." Karen said and pointed into a dark alley leading to the Shades.
Not a safe place to be, not even as an Assassins´ apprentice.
"We´re four", Jill said firmly, "we shouldn´t get any problems."
"Famous last words", I remarked, but began walking into the alley. The wailing became a soft yelping.

It came from under the small stone steps leading to the backdoor of an old house.
Karen and Sally watched our backs with drawn daggers, while Jill and I bent over to examine the source of the noise.
With a shriek Jill reached out and pulled a dirty…thing out of the muddy water next to the steps.
"What the…" I began, but then the creature turned its head and I could see that it was a swamp dragon, one of many that were running around in the city. It had an ugly cut in the right wing and its stomach grumbled threateningly.

I took a step back.
"Jill, put it down."
"But…"
"You want to be blown up? Put it down!"

But before she could drop the dragon, it coughed. A small flame shoot out of its muzzle and missed my face just by a few inches. It smelled like something you only find in dark, damp cellars.
"It´s okay now, I think", Jill announced and patted the dragon on the back, "what are we doing with it?"
"What do you mean what are we doing with it?"
"We´ve got to bandage the wound. And the poor thing looks like it hasn´t eaten in weeks."
The girls reached out and carefully patted the lizard-like skin of the creature.

"We can bring it to the Sunshine Sanctuary.", Karen suggested.
Sally frowned.
"I heard they closed two weeks ago, when the Ankh brought so much mud onto the grounds that the cages were too wet to keep the dragons there. I think I read it in the "Times"."
Karen nodded.
"It´s true. The Sanctuary was transferred to the Ramkin House. They´ll move back when the grounds are dry again. Well, it´s not exactly on the way, but Lady Ramkin would certainly know what to do." She looked around with sudden doubt, "That is if she´s still in. It´s pretty late already."

"We´ll be late", Sally protested, "And it´s Mericet´s shift. He will punish us."
Jill shrugged and shifted the weight on her arms. The dragon had obviously accepted her and leaned its head against her shoulder.
"I don´t care. I´ll go to Lady Ramkin. Who´s coming?"
The other girls shifted uneasily. Mericet is not one you want to make angry.
"Okay, okay", I finally sighed, "Karen and Sally can go back and the two of us drop the dragon at the shelter."
Relieved the girls left after stroking the dragon one last time and Jill and I climbed up onto the rooftops.

"You know the way?" she asked me with a wink.
"After all these hours stalking people to their houses in Ankh? You bet I do."

-----ooooo-----

The huge house lay quiet and peacefully.
It was already past midnight.

"You sure we should wake them up?" I asked doubtfully, but Jill had already pulled the bell string. After a few minutes she tried again.

"There must be someone." she exclaimed, while I was rubbing life back into my legs. These cloaks don´t help much when you´re running around in the snow for a long time.

"Maybe they are on a party.", I said, then – after thinking about this remark for a moment – added, "Well, maybe Lady Sybil is on a party and Commander Vimes is on duty."

Jill´s teeth began to clack.
"We have to take him home."
"What?! Have you lost your mind?!"

She patted the sleeping dragon.
"What else could we do?"
"Get a piece of string and tie it against the gate."
"That´s cruel! It´s cold and we don´t know when Lady Ramkin will be back!"

I waved my hands.
"It will survive! We won´t when Mericet catches us in school with a bloody dragon."

She looked at me with pleading eyes.
"Pleeeease, Chris, only for the night. Tomorrow morning I´ll bring him back here myself. We can´t just leave him here, all alone."
"How do you plan to smuggle him in?"
Her foot shuffled circles into the snow.
"I thought you could keep him in your room and…"

"No way!"

"Oh, come on. I´ll get in first and distract Mericet. He will punish me for being late and you can slip into your room in the meantime. I just can´t bring a dragon in the dormitory."
I hated to admit it, but she was right. This was the only possible way. I stared at the little dragon burying his muzzle deep in Jill´s cloak.
"If we get caughed…" I began.

"We won´t!" she assurred me beaming and together we turned and made our way back over the slippery roofs, heading for Filigree Street.

-----ooooo-----

We peered over the wall leading to Guild property.

No one in sight.

I nodded and Jill handed me the still sleeping dragon. It was surprisingly heavy, but fortunately didn´t make a sound. To be on the safe side I wrapped a piece of wire around its muzzle. With a wink the girl moved over the wall and into the darkness. I waited a few moments, then I heard an icy voice.

"Ah, Miss Cushion. Did you have a nice evening in town?"

Jill said something I didn´t understand and only seconds later I was gliding silently down the outer stone wall, darted towards Black Widow House and up the wall to my room.

I nearly made it.

Out of the dark a hand suddenly grabbed me at the shoulder, another one was pressed firmly over my mouth and – with the motionless swamp dragon still in my arms – I was pulled inside the building.

-----ooooo-----

The first thing I thought was: "It´s over. You´ll be expelled."
The second was: "Strange. I know this smell."

A candle was enlighted and Chidder grinned broadly when he saw my face.
"Shocked you a little, didn´t I?"

I slapped his shoulder.
"Don´t do this ever again! I nearly got a heart attack!"

Suddenly the dragon moved and Chidder´s eyes widened.
"You brought a dragon here?! Are you crazy?!"
"It´s not mine" I defended myself, "I just keep it in my room for the night. We found it in town and there was no one at the Ramkin House to take care of it."

He frowned.
"That was Jill´s idea, wasn´t it?"
"Quite obvious, I guess."
"After the incident with the crocodile? Pretty obvious indeed. Not many students can tell their friends the headmaster had to add new rules to the existent ones, just because of them."
"Will you…you know…inform Mericet?"

He looked surprised.
"Of course not. But the dragon has to disappear first thing in the morning."

With these words he walked nearer and patted the tied muzzle of the animal which looked around like it understood everything that was spoken.

The two of us were standing close, very close. I thought of Jill´s remark about the sewers and wondered what she´d say about this situation.
Finally I cleared my throat.
"Um…I better go."
Chidder looked up.
"Eh…yes, it´s late…"
"See you tomorrow, then."
"Yes, have…eh…have a good night."
"You too."

After this profound dialog I climbed over the window sill and carefully a few metres higher, over another wall and into my room.

-----ooooo-----

I was woken by a wailing noise.
"Aww…Bronx, leave me alone…"

The noise didn´t stop and was accompanied by a smell of something burning. Suddenly the memory from last night hit me. I sat up with a start.
The wooden box I´d put the dragon in had a smoking hole. Huge eyes looked at me uncomfortably. I sighed and rolled out of bed.

The attic I´m living in during my apprenticeship is a small room with a bed, a cupboard for clothes (you can also use it as a table) and the compulsory huge mirror. There´s hardly space to turn around.

But it´s a comfy little room and I don´t have to share it, which makes it even more attractive.

Just when I had been trying to figure out where to put my guest Chidder had knocked softly on the window and handed me a box, then vanished silently. Not even certified Assassins want to bump into Mericet at nightshift.

At least the dragon had slept up to now and only destroyed his box so far. Soon he would burn down Lady Sybil´s wigs with his comrades.
I opened a cupboard drawer and searched for the cookies I stored in it.
After a quick breakfast (the dragon ate the box) I heard knocking at my window.

It was Jill.

I let her in with a questioning glance.
"Well?"
"An essay about animal poisons. It could be worse."
"Yes, you´re right…wait a minute…" I opened another drawer and produced a notebook. Jill stared blankly.
"What´s this?"
"An essay about animal poisons", I grinned and threw it in her direction, "I had to write the same three months ago for being late. Change it a bit and you save nearly two days of searching the library."
"Gee, thanks. Now what about the dragon?"

"He had his breakfast. Let´s get him to Lady Ramkin."

-----ooooo-----

Smuggling the animal out again was even easier than bringing it in.
Relieved I dropped the bundle of "dirty clothes" down in the side alley and peeked inside.
A scaly face turned and intelligent eyes watched me silently. A sock was dangling from the green muzzle.
"Just stay calm and you´ll sleep in a nice warm shed among other dragons tonight, okay?"

Jill grinned.
"Don´t tell me you´re beginning to like him."

I made a face.
"Of course not. Bloody little beast."
Quickly I closed the sack again and shouldered it.
"The sooner we get him to Lady Sybil the better. I can´t afford to lose any more clothes."

Lady Ramkin answered the door herself and stared at us in surprise.
Jill had just opened her mouth to explain our presence, when her ladyship suddenly shrieked, reached out and pulled us inside the house.
"At last! I´m so glad you made it, girls, I was already worried. Did Mrs. Board tell you what to do? It´s not difficult, you´ll see."
She pushed us forward through the hallway and out the backdoor in the directions of the cages containing dragons of all shapes.
"There are the shovels, the compost heap is right around the corner, when…"
"Lady Sybil? We´re not…"

"Ooooh, look at this one!" Jill cried out and kneeled next to the nearest cage. A reddish dragon hopped a few metres away from us and gave her a suspicious glance.
I rolled my eyes.
"Jill, please, would you remember why we´re here?" Turning to the dragon breeder I continued, "I don´t know who you think we are, but my name is Christine Stein and this is Jill Cushion. We found a dragon…" I dropped the sack carefully and opened it, "…near the market last night. It´s hurt…"

The change was remarkable. Lady Ramkin bend over with a ticking sound and lifted the animal out.
"You tried to bandage it?" she asked while examining the scratch.
"Yes, but it didn´t work. He ripped it off after a while."
"Ah, you need a funnel!" she turned to Jill, "Quick, get me one of the brown things and the small bottle out of the shed over there, will you?"

The girl obeyed and came back with some kind of tent. It was held by a wooden structure and a brownish fabric was wrapped around it. Before I could say a word her ladyship stuck the dragon´s head into the opening and fastened the leather belt around its neck.
Then she put some of the oily stuff from the bottle on the wound and bandaged it again.
"This time he won´t be able to rip it off. So are you taking him home with you? He seems to have been tamed and is quite well mannered."
"We can´t." I said hastily, "we´re students at the Assassin´s Guild."
"Yes," Jill added moodily, "we aren´t even allowed to keep lizards for pets."

Lady Sybil sighed.
"What a shame. A dragon can be a wonderful companion. Every kid should have one." she thought for a moment, "At least every kid old enough to use a fire extinguisher. Teaches them responsibility, you know."

I repressed a comment, but couldn´t help hearing the song "Burning down the house" loud and clear in my mind.
Suddenly a man in a guards´ uniform walked into the garden. His face darkened when he saw us.
"What do you think you´re doing here?" he growled, "Didn´t you learn the lesson last time? Do you have any idea what yellow paint costs?!"
It took me a moment to remember what Pterry had written about the relationship between Vimes and Assassins in general.
"Oh, please, dear, don´t be like that. The girls just came by to bring this poor little creature." Lady Sybil said and lifted the dragon a little which indeed looked pitiful with the brown fabric around its head.

Vimes grunted something and we mumbled a polite phrase. Then the Commander grabbed a brown bag from a nearby shelf and walked back in the hallway of the large mansion.

When he was gone, Lady Sybil gave us a big smile.
"He´s been a bit depressed lately, I´m sure he didn´t mean it. So girl…" (that was addressed to Jill), "you already had some experience with lizards?"

I grinned.
"Lizards? That was a bloody crocodile! It nearly ate our "Master for light weaponry and advanced fistfight"."
Jill blushed.
"I couldn´t possibly know he would be checking the old cellar washrooms since they aren´t in use anymore."

Lady Sybil sighed in sympathy.
"People just don´t seem to understand these animals. Did you know that crocodiles and dragons have the same ancestors?"
"Really?"
"Well, sure. Come on, I can show you around. Mrs. Board wanted to send me two girls for helping with cage cleaning and so on, but they didn´t show up yet. After the Sanctuary-animals had been brought here, there was even more to do than usual. We need new cages and people who help getting the mud out of the old premises - and of course most of the time we still have the occupied cages to clean...maybe you want the job?"
Jill´s eyes were shining.
"Sure!" She turned to me.
"We´ll be working with dragons! Isn´t this great?"

I gave her an odd look.
"Um…yeah. Sure, nothing beats shifting dragon droppings, but I´m afraid you´ll have to do it alone. Studies don´t leave me much time at the moment."
They hardly heard, but were suddenly deeply absorbed in a conversation about skin diseases and eating habits of scaly creatures.
I mumbled another polite phrase and turned to go.

In the hallway I met Commander Vimes again.
"You are the new kid at the Guild, aren´t you?" he asked, staring grimly at me, "The adult student. Are you going to join the dragon club?"

I shook my head.
"I don´t think so. But I´m sure you´ll see Jill regularly from now on…eh, I gotta go. It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander."

I felt his gaze in my back when I left the house.

-----ooooo-----

This night I heard an explosion not too far away.

"Sounds like the Alchemists´ Guild needs a new lab – again." I thought, rolled around in my bed and went back to sleep. You get used to everything after a while.

Turned out it wasn´t the Alchemists´ Guild after all.

"Have you heard?" Karen asked me at breakfast, "Something blew up in the Shades last night. A couple of guys died."

I took a roll, cheese and moved on to our table. The others were already testing their food for poison. Stripes of yellow paper turned blue, one of Sally´s grey. She gave the boiled egg back and took another one from the buffet table.

Jill chewed on her roll.
"Who was killed?"
"No idea. Some guys working there. Thieves maybe."
I threw the test stripes (all blue) away and started eating.
"What happened?"

"The Watch is already there. I saw Captain Carrot walking around in the area when I came from my aunt´s house." Karen smiled dreamily and we others grinned. A few months ago he had helped her finding a lost dagger in town (she has improved her throwing abilities since then) and for weeks Captain Carrot had seemed to be the only subject worth talking about. It was getting better, but she still got this expression when someone mentioned the name of a certain member of the City Watch.

"Did he say anything?"
"Only that it was a dangerous area for young ladies and I´d better go home."

She sighed deeply and we could barely hide our amusement.

A boy with a bell ran through the corridor and quickly we gulped the rest of our breakfast. Fortunately there were enough huge windows in the dining hall, so everybody could get to the classrooms below in time. The younger students went down, I climbed upwards to meet Arthur Ludorum in his study. The next two hours I´d have to improve my "Good manners". Who needs to know which fork to use for which sort of meat? Or which topics to avoid during polite small talk? Assassins, obviously.
Sometimes I asked myself if a nice short crash-course regarding knife throwing and crossbow shooting wouldn´t have been enough. But no, I´d wanted the whole thing and that´s what I´d got.

Much to my relief the lesson was shorter than usual. Arthur was summoned to the headmaster´s office and left me with a friendly smile.
"Better than last time. Just try not to drop your cutlery anymore. Doesn´t make a good impression."
Then he was gone.

With care I put the "tools" (cutlery and crockery for three people) away and hopped out of the window as well.

In my room I found my pouch with a few coins I´d earned in a writing office at the docks. Occassionally they were searching for personnel down there (e.g. when many ships with huge cargo arrived), so I paid a young beggar a few pence when he told me about these occassions. Although I got food and accommodation at the Guild there were a few simple things – like going out with friends – you just needed money for. And I found I´m one of the quickest writers, and make less spelling mistakes than the others. The clerks were obviously satisfied with me.

After Hogswatch market I still had two AM dollars and a few pence. Enough to drink a lemonade at the Mended Drum and have a chat with the Librarian.
But when I went over the wall I saw something that made me change my mind.

Commander Vimes was just leaving through the front gate.

And he was fuming.

-----ooooo-----

Remembering my training I stayed in the shadows. He walked through streets and alleys, in the direction of the Shades. I followed over the roofs, not too close.
Eventually I lost him near the remains of an old stone house.
Quietly I climbed down and examined what was left of the building.

There were parts of a table, some black pieces of glass and much ash. Fortunately the fire hadn´t reached out to the neighbour buildings. I trot into some green stuff sticking to my shoes. Looked like a mix of rubber and vomit. Wandering around curiously I asked myself why the Watch hadn´t shut the area off. Maybe they don´t do anything like this here.

Suddenly I felt someone approaching from behind and whirled around.
It was Vimes.

"Had a good look around?" he snarled, fished for the stub of a cigar and lighted it.
I said nothing.

"Poor old Mr. Gumtree. He was a very nice man. Had a flower shop in Hobfast Street. Took him and his poker friends by surprise, this explosion. They were so shocked, they didn´t even get up from their table. They were still sitting here when we came, like puppets with many objects sticking out of their bodies. From the molten money on the table in front of Mr. Gumtree it looked like it had been his lucky day."

He walked nearer.
"Of course we only knew it was Mr. Gumtree from his wooden leg that had burned away in the fire."

Still I kept a straight face.
"Why were you at the Guild today? Do you think an Assassin did it?"

He snored again.
"But this would be against the rules, wouldn´t it? Killing without receipt. And who would want to spend money on killing a couple of old men?"

"We don't use explosives either."
"Too impersonal, is it?" his voice could have cut glass.
I nodded.

"But you are using traps, as far as I know. It would be easy to connect a barrel of the powder used for – say – a gonne to the finished construction."

I shook my head.
"There are rules, especially with traps. Basically you are only allowed to use one to catch a client, only in rare cases for killing him. Using a crossbow for the actual assignment is out of the question, let alone a gonne. And even if someone paid money for this assignment, the Guild would never approve when it came to killing the client´s friends as well. It´s considered…messy and the Guild doesn´t tolerate this kind of stuff anymore. No one had broken this particular rule since Mr. Teatime died."

Vimes leaned against an old iron stove, his eyes glowing.
"Who are you, Miss Stein?"
I stared into his face.
"What do you mean?"
"No one apart from Lord Downey and very few other people know about the gonne. It had been removed after the…unfortunate incident with Dr. Cruces. How come a student knows about it?"

I could have kicked myself.
I´d known Vimes was more dangerous than he looked, still I had walked straight into his trap.
"Seems like all these climbing lessons have softened your brain." a voice in my head hissed furiously.

The Commander raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

"Fine, if you don´t feel like assisting the Watch in this matter…"
He walked away a few steps, then called someone standing behind the remains of another wall.
"Angua? Please escort this young lady to the Watch House. She may find the cells there nearly as comfortable as her room at the Guild."

"Wait a minute," I protested when the female member of the City Watch walked in my direction with a raised eyebrow, "you can´t just arrest me. I´ve done nothing wrong."

Turning his back to me Vimes waved one hand.
"You aren´t under arrest. I just want to ask you a few questions and therefore invite you to join me at my office. But I wouldn´t let you leave again without showing you our beautiful ancient cells."

I glanced at Angua who looked like she expected me to attack her. As if I was so stupid.
Sighing I walked past her out of the destroyed building and in the direction of the Watch House.

-----ooooo-----

"I can´t just disappear like this. Please inform at least someone at the Guild."
Vimes laid his feet on his desk, nodded and gave one of his corporals the order to explain my absence to Lord Downey.
"Tell him we need her assistence in our case. Her duty as a citizen of Ankh-Morpork. Something like this."
The dwarf grinned and left.

"Now," the Commander began, "did you like our cells?"
"They´re not as ugly as I tought they would be." I replied truthfully.
"I´m glad you felt comfortable. If our little conversation won´t satisfy me, you´ll spend the night down there."
I shook my head in disbelief.
"What makes you think I have anything to do with this explosion? It´s not like I´d carry a sign saying "I love bombs"."

The Commander snorted.
"Why did you follow me?"
"So that´s it? I was just curious. You looked like someone who´d just stepped into something ugly and I still need stalking practice anyway, so…"
"Are you implying your following me was just a bloody exercise? Why should I believe this?"

I shrugged.
"Don´t know. Maybe because it´s the truth?"
"Watch your tounge, Miss!"

Staring him straight in the eyes, I felt anger beginning to boil inside me.
"Don´t talk to me like I was only ten years old. I don´t know what I have done to you, but you could at least treat me like a grown-up! You think I´m responsible for the explosion? Fine, then throw me in a cell and search for proof. You won´t find any. If you´re just poking around, double-check my answers and start threatening me when you´re sure I did it."

There was a long silence while we kept staring at each other grimly.
Finally Vimes leaned back in his chair and snorted again, but this time it sounded rather amused.
"Just an exercise, eh?"

I didn´t know if he really believed it or only pretended to, but nodded.
"Some girl at school mentioned the explosion this morning and when I saw you…well, I guess, I just got taken away. Looks like I still have much to learn, especially when it comes to stalking policemen."

Suddenly Nobby Nobbs stuck his head through the open door.
"Commander? Igor has anal…anyl…alany… found out about the sus…subsc…the stuff we took from the ground of the exploded house. He says it´s the remains of a dragon."

"What?!"

I glanced at my shoes. There were still stains of the green substance.
Vimes had jumped up and shot me an angry look.
"Now that´s a coincidence, if I ever saw one. The night after you brought my wife a wounded dragon, there is a murder committed with an animal of this species."

A bit confused I reached down and scratched the green stuff from my shoe.
"You can blow up a whole house with one swamp dragon? Boy, now I know why we are forbidden to keep them at the Guild."
"Naw Miss", Nobby answered and cleared his throat, "Igor says it must´ve been more´n one. ´t least five is what he said. Didn´t he, Fred?"
His partner moved into the room and nodded eagerly. "Rather six. Blown up at the same time. Very unusual, he said."

Vimes still stared at me.
"Where did you say you found the dragon yesterday?"

"Actually it was the night before. We hid him in school for a few hours. We came from Hogswatch market, walked down…mhm, must have been Smart Alley, the narrow street leading to the Shades. Next to a doorstep."

The Commander moved around his desk.
"That´s only a couple of streets from the place of the explosion! Fred, you and Nobby…no, wait, I´ll do it myself."

He walked past them, reached for his helmet hanging on a nail in the door and pushed it onto his head.
Then he turned around again.
"Fred, until we know more about this case this young lady remains in custody. Bring her back in the cell, see that she gets something to eat and a blanket." With a half-smile he added, "It can become quite cold there at night."

With this he marched out the door, leaving a very red Fred Colon and a smirking Nobby behind.
"Well…´scuse me, Miss…" the fat watchman said nervously and pointed to the door.

I raised and walked past him, grumbling.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Detention for being cheeky, isn´t it? If you only knew…"
"…how quickly I could hop out of your cell, my friend…" I added silently and waited for Nobby to lead me back to the cells.

For one night I would play along.

-----ooooo-----

Vimes had been right – it was indeed getting cold after sunset.

I unfolded the blanket Sergeant Colon had brought me, wrapped myself up and leaned back on the small wooden board that was used as a bed down here. I didn´t have a watch, so I couldn´t tell the time, but it felt like I had already spent days in this smelly and awfully boring place.

The soup had been good, though, and the half chicken either. At least they cared for their prisoners´ stomachs.

I looked around, but of course my soroundings hadn´t changed since last time. It was just a normal cell with a bed (or "board"), between two others of the same kind. Stone floor and –walls, the only window was barred (solid iron, didn´t move an inch), surprisingly clean, but smelled strongly of the drunks that obviously were "guests" quite often. Right now there was no one in the other cells, though, not even an unlicenced thief.

For the 6th time I recited the list of plants used for narcotizing personnel and guard dogs of clients, ran through the city sewers in my mind, avoiding dead ends (not just a phrase!) and spots where traps could be easily positioned, and tried to imagine what Lord Downey probably thought of this unfortunate situation.

Soon it was so dark I couldn´t even see the bars of the neighbour cell. A beam of moonlight shone through the window, but barely reached the ground. I like darkness, I really do, but this was getting depressing.

Suddenly the door on top of the stairs opened and a torch was carried down, drawing flickering shadows at the walls.

I got up, realizing that it was probably already around 3 o´clock in the morning. A watchman checking the cells at that time? Possible.
But somehow the person didn´t move like a watchman. Usually they don´t move so light footed.
I backed away in the shadow next to the bed.

The dark figure stopped in front of the first cell and lifted the torch, then moved on.

"You don´t even have a knife! Dammit!" said the voice in my head, somewhat calmly. Carefully reaching down I felt for the stone that had obviously broken off the wall earlier. Not a great weapon, but better than nothing. Maybe I could distract this guy a bit if…well, if I didn´t like what he´d come here for, whatever it was.

The cloaked figure walked over to my cell, lifted the torch again…and whispered my name. I dropped the stone and stepped nearer.
"Chidder?"
"No. The Hogfather. What happened? Why did they put you in here?"
"How did you get in?"
"There´s a secret passage leading in the other cellar room. As you can smell, I had to cross the sewers."
"I´m glad you´re here. What did Lord Downey say?"
"He wasn´t impressed, I can tell you. I had to confess the dragon thing, but don´t worry, I made sure you won´t get any trouble. Now: Why did Vimes lock you up?"

I shook my head.
"He either thinks I have something to do with the bombing or it´s just his cheerful attitude towards Assassins in general. I wasn´t exactly respectful when he questioned me."
"I´ll tell Lady T´Malia. She´ll give you a few extra lessons in diplomacy."
"Very funny. What did Vimes want from Lord Downey?"
Chidder grunted.
"He found something in the remains of the building and thought it might have been one of our receipts."
"Was it?"
"No, it was just a blank piece of paper. No letterhead, no sign, nothing. Just a perfectly white piece of paper. "
I rubbed my nose.
"I have seen the building. Nothing could have gotten out there "perfectly white"."
My advisor shrugged.
"It´s not our problem. You think he´ll let you go tomorrow? ´cause otherwise Lord Downey will send a complaint about the City Watch to the Patrician."
"Well, I´m honored, but I´m sure this won´t be necessary. Even if he still suspects me, he´ll certainly let me go."
"How can you be so sure?"
"If he really thinks I helped with killing these guys he´ll try to keep me under surveillance to catch the people who pulled the strings."

Chidder chuckled.
"Ah. More practice for the finals."
"If I´m lucky. Anyway, why would the killer leave a blank piece of paper at the crime scene?"
"Crime scene? You´ve been at the Watch House for too long. You´re already talking like a watchman. Or –woman, rather."
I grinned.
"Don´t worry, I won´t join the City Watch in a hurry. But this…"
There was a noise at the door and - like a shadow - Chidder disappeared from view after putting out the torch.
We waited a couple of minutes in silence, but nothing happened.

Suddenly I heard Chidder´s voice right at the bars near my ear.
"See you tomorrow. If they don´t let you out, you can always threaten them with the Lawyers´ Guild. You know, our connections are excellent."
I grinned into the darkness.
"Don´t worry about me. See you tomorrow."
Then he was gone and I went back to my bed to catch up some sleep.

-----ooooo-----

Vimes wasn´t around the next day, when Captain Carrot unlocked my cell door and told me I was free to go.
"No strings attached?" I asked carefully and searched his face for a sign of dishonesty. Of course I couldn´t find any. Carrot was as straight forward as always.
"Mr. Vimes didn´t tell me more. Only that you would probably want to go back to the Guild."

Stiffly I got up and nodded.
"That would be nice."
"Would you prefer to be brought there by a watchman? To explain things? I´m sure Corporal Nobbs…"
"No!" I hastily interrupted, "I´ll be fine. Really."

He nodded and just for an instant there was a shimmer in his eyes that looked…mischievously somehow. Then it was gone and I felt sure I´d just imagined things.

When I walked out of the Watch House into the cold winter morning and slowly climbed up onto the roof of the neighbours´house I saw the gargoyle immediately. Not my buddy Bronx whom I hadn´t seen in ages, but one of the stone creatures living in the rooftop area eating pigeons.

He (at least I think it was a "he") made a big show of not looking in my direction.

I ignored him and made my way back to the Assassins´ Guild.

-----ooooo-----

As Chidder had promised Lord Downey didn´t give me a hard time for bringing a dragon in. He didn´t even mention it.

But he was very interested to hear what had been spoken at the Watch House and truthfully I reported every word I remembered. Only my opinion about the explosion and Vimes possible surveillance of my person I withheld.
Before he dismissed me I had another question.
"Um…Lord Downey? Could it have been an Assassin? Maybe he just forgot to sign the receipt…"

The headmaster shook his head.
"There was no admission for any of the men and when it comes to receipts you as a student know best how much we all here emphasize the rules in this particular matter. No inhuming without receipt. Since Mr. Teatime passed away so suddenly I can´t imagine any person here at the Guild being responsible for such a…messy act."

I thanked him and left his office – throught the window, of course.
"Who got the inconograph for his birthday?" I thought, "Stuart, wasn't it?"

Quickly I hopped onto the window sill of Viper House and knocked. After a few moments a sleepy face appeared, holding a dagger.
"Hey Jock, it´s only me," I whispered, "Chris. Open up, I need to talk to Stuart."
Confused the boy nodded, opened the window and went to wake his friend, who certainly wasn´t an early riser either.
When I left with his iconograph both went straight back to bed, later they would probably think they´d dreamed about my borrowing Stuart´s birthday present.

I fed the imp, who was stiring some yellow liquid in a little pot when I opened the lid. He was wide awake (not like his owner), had a fair amount of all necessary colours and enough small paper sheets to draw on. Closing the lid again I arrived at my room, took a leather bag from its hook, put the iconograph in and slid the strap of the bag over my head. Then I added a few more daggers to those I was already carrying, left my room again and hopped over the wall, quickly moving in the direction of the Shades.

-----ooooo-----

For the first time in months I thought about something else apart from poison, weapons and stylish killing. I´m a big fan of crime stories, with "Law & Order", its German counterpart "Im Namen des Gesetzes" and "Katts & Dog" having special places on my Top Ten list.
Sure enough, they´re fiction, but still they provide a certain pattern I could follow and to be honest - I just couldn´t resist this opportunity. Besides, with Vimes´ people watching over me, what could possibly go wrong?

The site of crime looked pretty much the same as the day before. Stones, ash and broken parts of furniture everywhere. Even a few stains of the green stuff still stuck to the walls like an ugly (or rather "trendy") painting. No one was in sight.

That meant nothing, of course, especially near the Shades, firm stone walls seem to have eyes, ears and sometimes even other parts of the body.

Since I didn´t know what I was searching for I took a few photos of the ruin, the half chair sticking out of the iron stove and the stains of dead dragon. Then I grabbed a few paper bags (no plastic ones here yet) and carefully put some of the greenish stuff into one. The next was filled with a bit of ash, another with small items I found in the slit between stove and ground. One was a piece of string, another looked like strong wire, the next like a small crank.

I stuffed the folded paper back into my leather bag and tried to spot the center of the explosion. It wasn´t too hard. Judging from the hole in the floor and the traces around it, there had been a cellar-room. As everyone knows Ankh-Morpork is built onto Ankh-Morpork, new stories onto old ones, slowly sinking into the muddy ground. So it had probably been another floor or a shop once and used as a cellar up to now. I wanted to take a few more photos, but all I heard was a gentle knocking at the lid of the iconograph. I opened it and saw the imp stuffing brushes back in little holders.

"I don´t have any paper left." he grumbled, "And the brown is running out."
"Okay, I´ll get you some more."

I closed the lid again and glanced around. No, the soroundings hadn´t changed and probably wouldn´t within the next few hours. So I put the iconograph away, stepped out of the ruin, walked down the street and into the busy merchant area.

-----ooooo-----

There was a stationery store not far away from the bombed building. Actually it was the very store where the Guild bought everything from chalkboards to special writing feathers (the ones with your name engraved on the side). Mr. and Mrs. Rimme, both slim and pale, were friendly and competent and helped me finding the right sort of paper for the iconograph.
Their speech was a bit weird, but many immigrants have trouble with Morporkian.

Patiently I waited till Mrs. Rimme finished her sentence.
"Imp…draw…fine…lines…on…this…paper…"
"Okay, thank you, Mrs. Rimme. Do you have colours as well?"

Her husband brought a wooden box with little pots like the one the imp worked with. I let him out and chose from the assortment himself.
"Good…quality," Mr. Rimme assured me, "…not…wash…off…easily."
I paid for the equipment and turned to go, but at the door something came to my mind and I went back to the counter with the feathers.
"You have all sorts of paper here. I take it they are from many different suppliers."
The couple nodded with confused expressions.
"Different…people…selling…different…quality."
"Yes, that´s what I meant. If I brought you a sheet of paper, could you tell me who sells this particular sort?"
"You…bring…us…paper? To…sell?" he asked slowly.
"No, just to find out who sells this sort."
Mrs. Rimme suddenly beamed at me.
"You…want…name…of…seller?"
Relieved I nodded.
"Exactly. Could you do it?"
They looked at each other, then back to me.

"We…can…try."

-----ooooo-----

Satisfied I went to the ruin again, took my last photos of the cellar and climbed back onto the rooftops to make my way to the center of town. From up here I could see people closing and tearing apart the small Hogswatch stands. Most of what was left of them would become fire wood for the cold days that followed Hogswatch Night.

Occassionally I met a thief on his (or her) way home.

Suddenly it occurred to me that it was only one week till Hogswatch – and four days until the first-years would be tested in the sewers.
I repressed the thought and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"How do I get the paper, this "receipt" the Watch had found in the ruin?"
Asking Vimes was out of the question, he´d probably only laugh at me. I knew no skilled thieves, only a few students of the Thieves´ Guild and even if I did they wouldn´t try to steal anything from the Watch House. So I had to "borrow" the clue myself.

But how?

I didn´t even know where to look for it.

Suddenly I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye and sighed deeply. Right, and there was still my stoney shadow to get rid of. The gargoyle was not too bad a stalker, but since I had expected an "escort" I recognized him everywhere. The idea of using pigeons as a disguise amazed me, especially the fact that they didn´t fly away. This was of course before I saw the nails sticking out of the dead birds. Still, a clever idea for a gargoyle of this dimension.

I decided to loose my shadow. The easiest way to get rid of a gargoyle is – sigh needlessly to say – taking a shortcut through the sewers. I descended in a side alley and turned in the direction of the Watch House. Maybe I could find the secret entrance Chidder had spoken of the previous night.

No such luck.

After tapping on stones for about an hour I gave up and went back to the Guild. Since I didn´t want to be seen entering the premises, I never left the sewers till I was already standing unter the Black Widow House, then carefully went through one of the backdoors and actually walked the stairs up to the attic.

After a quick wash I spread the photos out on the cupboard right next to the other clues and stared at them. Destruction, ash, broken furniture. A crank, some wire and string.

The crank was interesting, though. Was it just an object lying around in this house or did the murderer use it for his task? I had used this kind of thing before, for certain traps. The other clues would fit in this scheme as well. But what kind of trap? And where was the connection to the swamp dragons?

Suddenly there was a knock at the window. I put my cloak over the things on the cupboard and went over to see who it was. Only seconds later Chidder hopped into my room and shook his head and shoulders like a dog. Snow fell from them, leaving wet splashes all over the floor.
"Where have you been? I thought you were still in the cell!"
With sudden guilty conscience my gaze wandered back to the cupboard.
"Um…sorry, Chidder, but there was something I had to do after they released me."
He threw me a curious glance and, shrugging, I decided to tell him what I had found out so far and show him my clues.

With no readable expression he waited till I finished my report, glanced at the cupboard, then sighed heavily and dropped onto the bed.

"For the record, Chris: You belong to the Assassins´ Guild, not the City Watch. No, don´t interrupt me. There is no reason why you should do their job or even think about catching this killer. Only because Vimes keeps an eye on you this doesn´t mean you have to prove anything. The finals are in just a few days and it won´t be easy. Do you really want to die, only because your mind isn´t on the task?"

I thought for a moment, then shook my head.
"No. But I won´t give this up either. Besides…" I began to grin at him, "…if I had some help, the whole matter could be solved before the finals."

Open-mouthed he stared at me.
"You aren´t implying…" he noted my expression and closed his mouth again. Then something happened I hadn´t been prepared for. My advisor folded onto my bed and started laughing.

I raised an eyebrow.
"What´s so funny?"

After a moment he sat up and wiped his eyes with his fingers.
"Nothing. It´s just…here I am, trying to save you from Mr. Vimes and what are you doing? Talking me into solving his case."
He chuckled once more.
"But the funniest thing is that I´ll actually do it. And if it´s only to keep an eye on you myself."

I stared at him like a fool.
"Um…you do what?"
"Help you. Come on, take some of your throwing knives, we´ll practice on the way."
I still didn´t move.
"Eh…on the way where?"
Chidder already sat on the window sill.
"To the Watch House, of course. You said we needed the receipt, didn´t you? Hurry up, or you´ll be late for Nivor´s lesson at 1 o´clock."
Quickly I grabbed coat and knives and hurried behind Chidder out of the window.

And men keep saying women were one big mystery…

-----ooooo-----

But Fate obviously had other plans with us - we hardly made it to the next building.

The instant we crossed Fog Alley and jumped over to the roof of the Teachers´ Guild there was a detonation behind us. For a moment I swayed and nearly fell off the roof.

But I caught myself again and turned to look at Chidder. Our eyes met and without a word we hurried back, past several chimneys until we could see down the house wall to Widdershins Broadway, the street that separated the Guild House from the Palast grounds. Kneeling we peeked down.

Right next to the window of the Guild´s new map-room stood the smoking remains of a horse carriage. The upper part was missing, obviously blown away with enormous force, the rest was scattered around the place. The wall of our Guild building had a huge black spot, as if someone had splashed a pot of black paint against it. All windows on this side were broken. Quickly I scanned the area and was relieved to see there had been no people near the carriage when it exploded. Students were poking their heads out of the broken windows, chattering excitedly, so they hadn´t been harmed either.

From the Day Watch several guards approached, hesitantly as it is their way.
Only few precious moments left to take a closer look, before they´d finally be there.

I leapt forward and climbed down the wall as fast as I could. Chidder caught up halfway down and pulled me onto a window sill.
"What are you doing?" he hissed in my ear.
"Checking out the evidence. Let me go, this is probably the best opportunity we´ll get!"

He released the grip around my wrist and I continued my descent. The black stuff on the wall was mixed with dark green stains, moist and sticky.

I reached the ground and stared at the smoking wood that had once been a horse carriage. Right on top of a nearly undamaged wheel the backside plank was laying on top of the pile. Something about it was strange.

"What´s this?" Chidder asked quietly at my side and pointed to a small object between the remains. I forgot my last thought and bent over. It was a crank, like the one I´d found at the site of the first bombing.

Before I could grab it there was a shadow darting over a few wooden parts. Something blinked and before I could even think about it my body leapt around, running after it farther down the street. I didn´t even glance back to make sure Chidder was following.

About 20 metres from the carriage there were still parts of it laying around, but the shadow darted to a spot at the palast wall and stopped beside a piece of molten metal.

Breathless I kneeled down next to it.

A movement, too fast for the human eye, another blink, then a small white cloud arised a few inches over the lump of metal and took the shape of a mouse.
It squieked and vanished in a puff.
The shadow turned around and glared at me.

"SQUEAK?"

It sounded pretty surprised, although the expression of the skull didn´t change.

"Yes, I can. But why…?"
"Chris? Who are you talking to?"
"One second, Chidder, I just…"

Turning back, I found the Death of Rats had vanished as swiftly as he had appeared. I heard a cry and from the corner of an eye saw two guards walking in our direction.

Without another word, my advisor pulled me to my feet and ushered me into God Street - but not before I had buried the still warm metal piece in the depths of my cloak.

I felt its warmth while we were running through the layer of snow past the post office to the building of the Bakers´ Guild, turned into Prog Alley and climbed the house of the Merchants´ Guild. Chidder opened a window and slid in, I followed less gracefully.

-----ooooo-----

Panting we stood in the darkness of a large attic. It smelled of age and spider webs. Chidder glanced out of the window from the side, so that he couldn´t be seen from the alley.
"No one´s behind us." he finally stated and exhaled slowly.

I looked around.
"We should disappear as soon as possible. What if someone comes up here?"
"Don´t worry, my father is a highly regarded member of the Merchants´ Guild. Even if someone came, there wouldn´t be a problem."
"If you say so."
"What happened out there anyway? Why did you just turn around and ran away? What´s this metal thing you picked up?"

I reached into my pocket, took it out and put it on the floor. The beam of light from the window made it shimmer. A silvery lump. What could it have been?
"I don´t know. But I have a feeling it is important."

With one of my throwing knives I cut around it as if it was an orange and the lump broke into two parts easily. Cheap stuff then. The inside was hollow, ash trickled out. A mouse would have just fitted into this hole. Don´t produce much ash, these little things.

"What did they need a mouse for?" I thought aloud.
"A mouse? What are you talking about?"
Right. He couldn´t have seen the Death of Rats on duty.
"There was a mouse in here."
"How do you know…"
"Trust me, okay? There was a mouse in this lump of metal. Dragons and a mouse…"
Something else came to my mind.
"Did you see the paper?"
"The wanna-be receipt? No, but there wasn´t much time. Maybe someone else found it or it was just blown away."
"If this killer uses it to "sign" his work it should be there somewhere."
"We´ll find out soon enough. I know someone at the Watch House, he´ll tell me."

I nodded absently. The death of this mouse hadn´t been an accident. The little nibbler was part of the bomb, as well as the swamp dragons. But how? What was this metal thing? A cage? I put it back into my pocket and got up.
"There is another question. Why the Assassins´ Guild? It didn´t look like anybody was hurt, so what was the intention of the killer? Can´t very well have been a glass cutter running amok, could it?"
"A warning perhaps?"

I stared at him and he shook his head a moment later.
"But for whom? The only one who…"
He broke and now it was my turn to shake my head.
"No one knows," I assured him, "no one apart from you has the faintest idea that I´m poking my nose into this."

"I wouldn´t bet my life on this if I were you." was the dry reply, "come on, let´s go. Rolo should be on duty right now, he´ll probably knows something about this blank receipt."

Carefully we crept out again and made sure there was no one in sight, before we continued our way to the Watch House.

-----ooooo-----

Rolo, a shortsighted little man with enormous feet waddled around one of the desks and opened the window. With clattering teeth we climbed in. It had started snowing again. We left the white wall of coldness behind and enjoyed the warmth of the quiet staff room.
After a quick introduction Chidder smiled at the watchman.
"I need information about the explosion at the Guild House."

Rolo glanced behind himself uncomfortably.
"I don´t know much. And you´d better be out in a second, before Nobby comes back."
"This won´t take long. What do you know?"
"Some sort of carriage blew up in Widdershins Broadway. No people were injured. Fred said they used dragons, like in Mr. Gumtree´s case, but nobody knows how."
"Was there a piece of paper among the remains?" I interrupted.
The watchman looked at me uncertainly, then nodded.
"I heard they found a paper in a box only a few metres from the carriage. But it was blank."

Chidder threw me a glance, then turned back to Rolo.
"Where is the first one?"

The watchman waddled to his desk, took something from a drawer and came back.
"Igor brought it back an hour ago. Said he couldn´t find anything, not even traces of a magical spell."

I grabbed the sheet before Chidder could and stared at it anxiously.
Somehow it disappointed me. It was really only a blank sheet of paper, about the size of a small book.
"We need to borrow it."

Rolo shook his head.
"No! No way! Mr. Vimes would kill me if he knew I was talking to you, let alone show you the paper."

I drew a knife and he paled and stepped back.
Swiftly I cut a stripe from the paper, just about half a centimeter from the bottom of the sheet, then handed the paper back. Hesitantly Rolo took it. Hopefully no one would discover that is was a bit shorter than before.

The sound of footsteps on the corridor made us turn – the watchman towards the door, us two towards the window.
Before the handle moved we were already out and on the way up to the roof.
Heavy snowflakes were sinking onto the chimneys and bridges between the buildings. The sky had a depressing grey colour.

"If we hurry a bit, we can just ask the Rimmes about the paper and be back for your lesson in time." Chidder remarked. I nodded, shivering under my coat, and we hopped onto the next roof.

-----ooooo-----

"Fine…paper." Mr. Rimme noted with professional satisfaction. He held it against the light of his latern, then turned to the side to compare it with the samples on the other table. In the dim light his face looked paler than ever.

Chidder and I could hardly conceal our impatience.
A few minutes later the shopkeeper gave me the slip back.
"Sorry…don´t…know…paper. It…" he made a gesture into the room, "…not…from…Ankh…Morpork. Very…fine." he nodded again, emphazising the last part.
"Well," Chidder said, with disappointment in his voice, "thank you anyway, Mr. Rimme. Come on, Chris, we better go back."
I nodded gloomily.
"Yes. Thanks, Mr. Rimme. Bye."

-----ooooo-----

"Miss Stein?"
I woke from my daydreaming and looked into Mr. Nivor´s face.
"Sorry, I was a bit…absent."
"I could see that." the old Assassin grinned, "If you were sitting in a normal sized class of students, I probably wouldn´t even notice. There are certain disadvantages in having private lessons."

I smiled back.
"Yeah, but the advantages still outweight them. Mr. Nivor, can you think of a trap you need a mouse for? And a crank?"
The teacher leaned back.
"Ah, an exercise for the mind. Well, let´s see…a mouse…that would be one of the 2nd or 3rd year traps then…technically advanced…did you already read next year´s books?"
"No, I couldn´t make it to the library in time today."

Nivor got up and searched through the mess on his desk till he found a heavy hardcover. I stood and took it. "The History of Traps and Deadfalls". I noticed the lack of spelling mistakes in the title. Very…uncommon.
"You will find the basics we already went through in the past months, plus examples for traps with a certain technical "je-ne-ce-quoi". The book was not written exclusively for people of our profession, though, so please ignore the chapters about alchemy and wizardry."

Nodding I let the book slid into my bag.
"Thank you, Mr. Nivor."
"I can think of quite a few traps you need mice or other little rodents for to activate them, but just you take a look at the book. And pick one of the 2nd year exercises to replicate for our next lesson. You´ll find we already talked about half of them."

With this I was dismissed.

-----ooooo-----

Back in my room I put the stripe of paper on the cupboard to the other clues, glanced at the photos again and dropped onto my bed.

So the paper itself didn´t really help. A secret message, written with onion juice perhaps? As a kid I´d done that often playing detective games with my friends. But Vimes and Igor had certainly thought of this as well and Rolo would have known about it. Why would someone use paper, the common medium for transfering messages, place it at the site of the bombing and write nothing on it? No statement, no reclamation, nothing.

Strange.

Okay, so what would a TV-detective do? Find out if Mr. Gumtree and his friends had enemies. No rich enemies, for they would have hired an Assassin for this assignment. An unhappy customer the florist had sent the wrong arrangement of flowers? Didn´t justify the trouble setting up a bomb. There had to be more behind this.
But my possibilities in that respect were limited. I decided to leave this part of work to Vimes alone. Hopefully he would share these informations with the other watchmen and Rolo could share them with Chidder and me.

I flipped through the pages of the book Nivor had given me. There were some beautiful traps and something that looked like a certain scorpion pit in Lord Vetinari´s palace.

But not even in the restricted parts was a construction that connected dragons (or other explosives) and a mouse. No help here either.

Frustrated I left the book on my bed and took my coat.
It was still wet.

But a little walk outside would do me good - and probably lead to a new angle of view.

-----ooooo-----

When I came back to my room more than three hours later Chidder was laying on my bed, snoring.
I grinned, put my coat back on the hook and sat next to him. When I slowly reached for the open book on his chest, he awoke.
"Oh. Hello…um…"

"Don´t let Nivor know that this book was so boring you couldn´t keep your eyes open."
I said, closed it and placed it next to my clues.

Chidder sat up, yawned and scratched his head.
"Where have you been?"

"Met the Librarian in the Drum, had a few drinks, then went to the palace, talked to a stable hand, two kitchen helpers and a couple of servants and practiced the "tourist-walk" under the pavement afterwards. Will we be allowed to take a crossbow down there for first-year finals? Some rats are as big as cats. And those living under UU glow in the dark."

My advisor blinked.
"Yes, sure, you can take whatever weapon you want down with you. Just like in the very last test. What did you go to the palace for?"

"Remember the carriage this morning?"
"The one that spread dragon all over the façade? Hard to forget."
"It had a wooden plate at the back."
""I brake for little furry animals"?"
"Um…yes, but there was another: It was the palace emblem. The carriage belonged to the palace vehicles."
Chidder wasn´t completely awake yet.
"So? Then someone stole a carriage from the palace. It had to come from somewhere."

I felt my grin broaden.
"This particular one just came from Klatch very late yesterday night. It brought letters for two servants, fruit and vegetable for the palace kitchen and a couple of parcels for various merchants in town. One of its wheels had been damaged by a rockfall. It barely made it to the gate. The coachman drove it to Mr. Goblet - who´s in charge of the coachs and carriages - and left for the Drum. When he came back, around midnight, it had a new wheel and the coachman went to bed in the firm belief he would use it the next morning at six to drive back to Klatch. Turned out he was wrong. Obviously the guy in the black cloak who was supposed to bring the carriage back to the parking lot never arrived there, but disappeared instead."

"Did the coachman see the guy?"

"He recognized his carriage passing by and stopped it. The mysterious stranger who steered it told him between coughs that Mr. Goblet had ordered him to bring the vehicle back to the parking lot where it should be picked up the following morning. The coachman couldn´t give me a description for it was too dark and the other guy had a scarf around his face. Because of the coldness, he thought."

"Maybe the carriage was just brought to a different place?"

"Ah, but Mr. Goblet told his niece to bring it to the lot earlier and she did. He doesn´t have any other helpers."

Chidder rubbed his eyes and stood up.
"Fine. Then someone stole this carriage around midnight last night, prepared it with the bomb and parked it next to the Guild House. It still doesn´t make sense. Who was the target?"

"That´s what I asked myself. But then Pim, the little kitchen helper, told me that a carriage had obviously been brought into the small inner courtyard in the night and remained there until about five thirty in the morning, when he started working in the kitchen. He didn´t have much to do at first, because the cook was late, so he looked out of the window and saw that the carriage with the new wheel half standing under the arch of the tower blocked the way of Mr. Crust."

"Who´s Mr. Crust?"

"A winery owner, has a shop in Purse Street. The wizards of UU are his best customers."

I had Chidder´s full attention now and went on.
"Well, because of "our" carriage Mr. Crust couldn´t get near the cellar door to bring his delivery down and thus ordered another kitchen helper to "move the bloody thing out of my bloody way" as he put it. And a kid named Benny went to park it in Widdershins Broadway, for he was in a hurry and the horses were needed elsewhere."

Still grinning I watched Chidder´s face, who was chewing my words over again.
"Then…this means the Guild has never been the target in the first place! It was just an accident."
"Right."
"Who would have been in the tower when the bomb exploded?"
"Many people: servants, delivery personnel, messengers…and the Patrician."

Chidder sat down heavily.
"The Patrician?" he croaked.
"Yep. Having his breakfast in Oblong Office and listening to the earliest messages coming in."
"The target was the Patrician?"
"Well, at least that´s what it looks like."

He shook his head in disbelief.
"And you found all this out…"
"…by listening to a few well chosen people."
"The fee on his head is constantly rising. But no Assassin who tried to earn it was ever heard from again."
"When you play fair, you don´t have a chance getting him. Even when playing unfair he has the advantage. But this…it´s like Old Man Trouble himself had his hands in this affair."

My advisor slowly recovered and got up again.
"Well, now that we know more what are we going to do with the information?"
"How about telling Vimes? I´d like to hear what he thinks about this mysterious receipt and what he found out about Mr. Gumtree in exchange. He could arrange better protection for Lord Vetinari as well."

"Always on the condition that we actually want him to do that…"
"What?!"
"I mean, maybe it would be a good idea to say nothing and let the killer strike again. I know a lot of people who´d be glad if Vetinari was dead and buried."

I shook my head and glared at him.
"You can´t be serious. We aren´t talking nice clean inhuming here, but…slaughter. This bomb-business is just not…right. Think of all the innocent people who´d get killed if the next bomb went off…I´m sure "messy" wouldn´t be a strong enough expression!"

"There is no such thing as "innocent" people…" Chidder murmured, but you could see his heart wasn´t into it.

"All right, then. Let´s go and see Mr. Vimes…" he added with a sigh.

-----ooooo-----

"You again!"
I couldn´t help smiling.
"And a good evening to you, Commander Vimes."

He walked around his desk and stopped in front of us.
"In case you haven´t noticed: I can´t stand Assassins!"
Chidder opened his mouth, but I was quicker.
"We won´t disturb you longer than necessary. Do you have any news about the bombings?"

Vimes frowned.
"What makes you think I´d share this information with you?"
"Because", Chidder chirped with a broad smile, "we have something in return. We know who´s the target of the killer."

For an instant Vimes looked stunned, but then his stony expression returned.
"So? And how would you know this?"
I nudged Chidder with my elbow. If he went on like this, we probably wouldn´t get any information at all.
"Please Mr. Vimes, do you have any idea why Mr. Gumtree and his friends were killed?"
His gaze went back to me, I could see he was considering throwing us out. But then he grunted, turned around and dropped himself back into his chair.
"Tell me about your…conclusions."
"First we´d like to heaaahhh…"

I took my foot from Chidder´s and sat on the chair in front of the desk.
"I asked a few questions at various places this afternoon and soon…"

It was basically the same story I´d told Chidder earlier. The Commander didn´t interrupt me, only lifted his eyebrow every now and then.
When I´d finished he excused himself for a moment and went out.
"You think that was wise?" Chidder whispered in my ear. "Now he has everything and we have nothing."

He fell silent when Vimes came back, Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs on his heels.
"Captain Carrot and Sergeant Angua are on their way to the palace. Fred, you and Nobby will go and arrest the suspects. Tell Constable Downspout to stop the surveillance of Miss Stein at once and help them."
The Commander grabbed his helmet and coat.
Chidder and I jumped up and hurried behind him, down the stairs and out of the Watch House.
"What suspects?" Chidder wanted to know while we were running over Brass Bridge.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rimme, of course. I´m surprised you never draw this conclusion yourself."
"Why should we?" I asked, totally stunned, but still keeping up, "They have been living here for so long, why do you think they´re trying to kill the Patrician all of a sudden?"
"Nevertheless, the paper of the receipts came from their shop."
"But…but Mr. Rimme said he´d never…" I stopped.

Of course he´d said he´d never seen this kind of paper before. He must have recognized the material immediately. But how did the Watch got on the trail of the shopkeepers? How did they find out about the paper? Did they know the meaning of the blank receipts?

My questions had to wait, though.

Carott and Angua had informed the palace guards and a frantic search of the grounds had begun already. Vimes rushed in and we followed as if we belonged here.
There was not much time to marvel at the surroundings. When we arrived outside the Oblong Office a well-dressed clerk stepped in our way.
"I´m sorry, Commander Vimes, but Lord Vetinari is in a meeting. I can make an appointment if you…"

The man immediately forgot the rest of his sentence.
Dangling out of a window, only supported by your coattails sticking out of a cupboard door, can do strange things to your mind. I heard Chidder´s gasp next to me. Vimes´ movements had seemed too quick for a human being.

Like a pair of black ducklings we followed the Commander into the Oblong Office.

The Patrician looked up and put his writing feather down on the desk.
"Commander Vimes. What a pleasant surprise. My, I had no idea you were recruiting Assassins for the Watch now."

The Commander half-turned his head, growled something when his gaze fell upon us and turned back again.
"Sir, we assume there is a bomb on the Palace Grounds, ready to explode. Evacuation already started. Would you please follow me to…um…a safer place?"
There was a cry from outside and a second later Angua stood at the door.
"We found it, sir! It´s in the Throne Room. And it´s…humming…"

Without another look at the others Chidder and I raced past her and down again. It never occurred to us to run for safety, now that we were in the middle of all the action. That´s probably why so many "heroes" are so young. I´m sure most of them never even realize they were doing something that could be considered brave. They just did what promised the most thrill at the very moment without thinking of the consequences. And that´s what usually prevents young heroes from becoming old heroes.

Hopefully we didn´t belong to this category.

I felt my heartbeat in my throat when we made our way through the crowd of bystanders blocking the door to the Throne Room.
There was the ancient Golden Throne of the Kings of Ankh, right behind the small wooden chair the current ruler of the city used instead. A quiet, very quiet humming noise was coming from the other side of the room.
A huge wooden box stood in a corner, Carott was kneeling next to it, with his ear firmly pressed onto the side.
"There is a creaking right here." he pointed to one corner of the box, then moved his finger a little to the left, "And the music is coming from here."

There was shuffling and a grunting from the opposite side of the box.
"The dragons." Chidder stated, and then, "Why don´t you open it?"
"Because…" Carott began and got up,"…the dragons are already nervous. Opening the box may cause them to explode."
"But how are you going to defuse it?" I panted.

At this the Patrician walked into the room, closely followed by Vimes.
"How…unusual. I shall see that the incoming mail will be inspected more thoroughly in the future."
"Your Lordship, if you´d come this way…it would be safer in the garden…"
"Oh, it certainly would, Commander. But not as entertaining. I think I rather stay and watch your competent men – oh, and women, obviously - taking control of the situation."

Vimes grunted something, then turned and ordered Angua to bring everyone else out of the building.
"What about them?" she asked, pointing in our direction.
We looked at the Commander.
He looked back with a grim expression, then waved his hand dismissively.

"They can stay for the moment."

-----ooooo-----

Carott had taken a measuring tape out of his pocket and wrote some figures in his notebook.
My advisor tried to peek through a hole in the chest, but shook his head when I nudged him. It was too dark inside the box to see anything.
Eventually the quiet conversation at the door died down and the only ones left in the Throne Room were the Patrician, Vimes, Carott, Chidder and I.

The creaking noise seemed to be a little louder now.
"I know this noise." I said thoughtfully and pressed my ear against the wood like Carott had before. "Add a mouse to it…" – and with the image of the small metal lump entering my mind the solution finally hit me.
"A wheel. A hamster wheel."
Of course. My brother once had two gerbils and they always used to run in theirs the whole night long. Even when oiled it made this characteristic sound.

Vimes kneeled beside me and listened as well.
"How does it work?"

"I´m not sure. It probably runs until it activates something that makes the dragons explode." I replied, "Maybe it sets something free, a certain smell they hate for example. But where does the music come from?"

The shuffling inside the box grew louder and for an instant noboby moved.

Then Chidder got up and drew a knife.
"Better we make the wheel stop then."

Vimes grabbed his arm and shook his head.
"Not yet. You might set it off anyway. We don´t know what the wheel is connected to."

"Tell me, Mr. Vimes," the Patrician asked in a conversational voice, "your men didn´t happen to find a small crank in the remains of the first two bombs? Or an oddly coloured or shaped part of wood?"

Vimes threw him a sharp glance.
"Well, there was a board that had drawings on, and we found a crank next to the Assassins´ Guild building…but not in the Shades."

Feeling rather uncomfortable I cleared my throat.
"Um…Commander? There was…um…a crank in the house Mr. Gumtree and his friends were killed. Under…um…the stove…"

I would have given a huge amount of money to be able to shrink myself and fall through a slit in the floor, if that meant avoiding the stare that hit me now. The next conversation with Vimes wouldn´t be pleasant.

Always assuming we were going to survive the next half hour.

"Ah." the Patrician nodded, walked slowly over to Chidder and me, took the knife from Chidder´s hand and placed the pointed blade in a small slit at the side of the chest. Then, with a sudden movement of his wrist, he pushed it inside.

Everything stopped.
The creaking noise.
The music.
Even the shuffling from the other end.

After a few seconds I heard Chidder exhale and found I had held my breath either.
Lord Vetinari nodded again, thoughtfully, and wandered over to the wooden chair at the bottom of the throne. He sat down and raised an eyebrow.
"If you would open the chest with the appropriate care, Captain…"

Carott got up and slowly lifted the lid.

We stared into the nervous eyes of six swamp dragons, firmly tied together. Their stomachs gave an irritated growl every now and then. On the other side of the chest there was a colourful little box and, at one side - connected with string and wire and a crank - a hamster wheel with a very confused mouse sitting inside. The knife still stuck between two of the tiny bars, but hadn´t harmed the nibbler. The whole purpose of the little wheel had obviously been to spin the crank that kept the music from the box going. Everyone saw at once what kind of box it was and could think of the consequences, if it had opened.

The lid shifted a little, but Chidder pressed his finger on it immediately and pushed another knife in the slit at the side to keep it closed.
No danger here anymore, but there were still six very nervous dragons…and something else on the bottom of the chest…

I reached into it and took the first dragon out. Chidder grabbed another and – as if we´d read each other´s minds - we quickly brought all six of them over to a little supply room across the hallway, one by one. Hopefully they would calm down between brushes and buckets until Lady Sybil picked them up later.

Then there was only the box left.
And the mouse in the wheel.
And the black powder at the bottom of the box.
Much of it.

Enough to blow up the tower and leave nothing but a smoking crater in the center of the city.

-----ooooo-----

"How was it supposed to work?" Vimes asked hoarsly.

Despite the fact that the dragons were now in the next room, far away from the box, and Carott had swept the black powder into a glass vase I only hesitantly unfastened the wheel from the crank and set the mouse free. It squeaked, sat up on its little hindlegs with trembling whiskers and finally decided to leave quickly through the open door.

"The wheel makes the crank spin." I told the Commander, pulled Chidder´s knifes out and turned the little piece of metal next to the box with my hand. The music started again, louder this time, "Then…"

At this the lid suddenly opened and a very ugly jack-in-the-box with a huge grin sprang out. It had a fool´s cap with bells and the little glowworm inside its wooden skull made it look like a jack o´latern. Without doubt the dragons would have responded to the sight.

Even we humans, although we´d expected something like this, startled. (Well, all apart from Lord Vetinari, I presume).
There was nothing more to say, so I just closed the chest and – like the others - turned around, when I heard angry voices from the corridor.

"…can´t…do…this…"
"Well, I dunno, Fred, we already did, didn´t we? I mean if ya say "can´t", wouldn´t that mean, we haven´t tried yet…it´s kinda…wossname…"
"Nobby, please stop that…I assure you, Mr. Ri…"
"I…wish…to…see…Commander…Vimes!"
"Well, you see, that´s what I wanted to tell you all the time. He´s here, we going straight…"

At this a strange group appeared in the doorway.

Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs were half-leading, half-pulling Mr. and Mrs. Rimme into the Throne Room. Both looked very…insecure. Glancing around like trapped bunnies they seemed to be confused and frightened at the same time. Something was strange about them, but I couldn´t put my finger on. Their faces, their movements…the thought slipped away, when Chidder nudged me slightly in the side. I looked up, saw his eyebrow climbing upwards and shrugged in confusion. Then we went on watching the scene.

Vimes went over to the couple with a grim expression.
While he introduced himself politely I threw a glance at Lord Vetinari. The Patrician went through a few papers on his small desk. He seemed to be quite busy and whenever he looked up – which wasn´t very often – his face only wore a mild interested expression, as if he didn´t belong here, but only watched all this from a distance - to entertain himself a little while working on something more important.

Actually I pictured myself sitting in front of the TV doing homework with exactly the same expression. Mild interest…and something else…"what´s all this nonsense about bunnies and TV and homework? Where is this leading to?" a little voice in my head wondered, but deep down I felt it had a meaning, maybe not everything, but…

We watched as Vimes was talking to the pale couple.
It took them some time to formulate words to express their anger about the treatment. Then they began emphazising their wish to go home, right away.
And the little voice knocked onto the walls of my mind, helping me to focus my attention on the gestures of the angry shopkeepers. They used their arms as if they were the tools to express oneself properly…

Suddenly I felt another presence entering the room and turned my head. A black cloak came through the wall next to the Throne. I saw the familiar bony skull, a skeleton hand holding a scythe. Everyone else was watching Vimes dealing with the angry Rimme couple, I was the only one staring in the other corner.
"Why is he here?" my mind asked, no, "cried out" in sudden shock, "Whom did he come for?"

Was there anything I had missed, a detail about the bomb I had overlooked? Was it still going to explode, killing us all? But that was impossible, the dragons were in another room and the gunpowder in a closed glass vase next to the chest. No way it could be set on fire there.

Death leaned the scythe against the wall and searched his cloak until he found an hourglass. He held it against the fading light and I could see that not much sand was left in the upper part.

So it was only one person – but who? Vimes? Chidder? Myself?

I felt sweat appearing on my forehead and my hand was wandering into a concealed pocket all by itself. Holding my favourite throwing knife gave a bit of comfort, even if it didn´t really mean anything.

Glancing around the room I suddenly realized that it had become quiet.
Unusually quiet.
And I wasn´t the center of attention, for a change.

Everyone had their eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Rimme, who were waving their arms in complete silence, their faces twisting sometimes, while slowly walking backwards in the direction of the door. No one hindered them.

My eyes fell on Vimes, who only stood there with a strained expression, the same I could see on Carott´s face. It looked like they were trying to figure out a very difficult math problem. Nobby and Fred Colon seemed very relaxed, Chidder´s face showed surprise, the Patrician´s expression was as unreadable as always…then I felt it myself…my gaze was wandering back to the couple who was still gesticulating in silence, I just couldn´t take my eyes off them.

"Stop them!" the voice inside my head cried out, but I couldn´t move a muscle, couldn´t speak, couldn´t look away.

They were too strong.

From the corner of the eye I saw Death picking up his scythe and stepping forward, without rush, obviously still waiting for something.

The strange theater went on, calmer now, since the couple didn´t fear anyone to stop them. We were all drawn to their gestures, the story behind their swift movements – it looked like they were telling a tale, a strange, but wonderful tale full of magic, mystery and joy, a beautiful…I shook my head mentally and tried to figure out why this lame excuse for entertainment had a familiar feeling that made me shiver.

Somehow it was like a car crash – you just can´t bear to look at it, but you can´t look away either.

And then I suddenly remembered.
TV indeed.
Shows for little kids.
The Teletubbies.
Barney.

You know the feeling:

You switch the TV on and the channel shows this purple dinosaur telling you the world is nice and wonderful and we should all hug one another and sing a cheerful song and be happy. It always takes me a couple of moments, even minutes sometimes to realize what´s going on with me, that I don´t really want to watch this poor excuse for entertainment some kids seem to be so addicted to.

It´s strong.

It captures you and you can´t look away until you remember how to break the diabolic spell.

All you have to do is to press a button on your remote control, switch to another channel, another program that helps your distracted mind back on track.
Then you can begin thinking straight again, to focus on what you actually wanted to see.
All it takes is a moment of distraction.

All I needed was the equivalent to a remote control.

-----ooooo-----

Mr. Rimme waved his hand in a wide circle, his wife´s gesture looked like she was stroking a pet. Both were still walking backwards, slowly.
Death tapped his bony fingers against the handle of the scythe.
Vimes and Carott were fighting the spell, but not successfully. With only a brief moment of distraction they may be able to grab the couple and tie them up.

I didn´t have a remote control.

But I felt my hand gripping my throwing knife firmer, then, slowly like in trance and still staring at the silent performance near the door, I measured the distance, aimed……and let the knife fly.

Everyone in the room visibly startled when Mr. Rimme´s hand grabbed his throat. His wife´s mouth opened for a scream, but nothing came out.

Then the man fell backwards and hit the floor. I was the only one who saw the figure in the cloak waving the scythe. Then it vanished and everyone hurried over to the body in the corridor. Vimes grabbed Mrs. Rimme and pinned her against the wall next to the supply room, where a whimpering noise indicated that the dragons didn´t like the darkness or the sounds from outside.

I stumbled forward to take a look at the late shopkeeper myself.
His eyes were wide open and his hands were still covering his throat were the knife had gone through.
"Good shot." Chidder remarked cheerfully.

"I…I…" I needed to sit down for a minute.

Desperately.

"Would make a poor impression, puking all over the body, wouldn´t it?" grinned the voice inside my head. I felt the strong desire to strangle it slowly.
Instead I walked to the window – where the nameless clerk was still hanging out, probably unconcious by now - and sat down on the sill.
"You okay?" my advisor asked concernedly, "No need to worry, it´s not unheard of that students inhumed someone apart from their classmates before receiving their official degree. You won´t get any trouble."
"But…but…"
"Maybe you even get higher marks in…"
"Chidder."
"Yes?"
"I didn´t aim at his throat."
His face fell.
"You didn´t?"
"No. I aimed at the space between them. I just wanted to distract them, not to kill anybody."

He stared at me for an instant, then nodded slowly, patted me on the shoulder and walked back towards the dead man. I looked out of the window over to the Guild House. "Do they throw you out for accidently killing someone? No, it was still self defence. I killed someone in self defence…. Hell, I killed someone!"

Only slowly the meaning of these few words sank in.

I don´t know how long I sat there.
Suddenly someone dropped next to me and I looked up.

Chidder smiled and held a golden letter opener up. Blood was dripping from the blade.
"Mhmm, let me guess: Gold? Not your style. You are more the dwarf-iron-type. I recall you buying your first own weapon. Not a piece of fancy jewelry to fill with poison or an elegant fencing sword, but a small, strong, reliable knife. And well balanced, too. Like this."

He raised his other hand and there was my favourite throwing knife, a little scratched, but without any body fluids sticking to the blade. I took it and looked at the smirking young man in disbelief.

"Where…? How…?"
"Right behind them in the wall. You can still see the slit where it went in between the stones."
"But who…?"
Before I could finish the question another dark-dressed figure stopped in front of us.

"Ah, Miss Stein, Mr. Chidder. If you don´t need the opener anymore…I still have a lot of work to do and undoubtly it will include dealing with letters. In sealed envelopes."

With an expression close to admiration Chidder handed the letter opener over to the Patrician, who turned around with – and I couldn´t swear I really saw that – a twitch in the corner of his mouth.

We watched him exchanging a few words with Commander Vimes, before he went back to the Oblong Office.

Suddenly there was a whining from below. Chidder rolled his eyes, grabbed the coattails we were sitting on and together we pulled a very shaken clerk inside. He mumbled something and disappeared as fast as he could.

-----ooooo-----

I was standing in complete darkness. Somewhere from my right came a repressed snigger and I made a mental note to kick Jock´s butt next time I saw him. An audience at this particular time – even when all they wanted was lending moral support – can be very irritating.
Carefully I made my way towards the next corner, leading to a narrow tunnel – not exactly a perfect opportunity for traps, more for an ambush. Before walking around I checked the suroundings with a little mirror.
But not a single beam of light shone down into this part of the sewers, so my vision was still pretty poor.

I put my leather bag down and opened it. Three pairs of eyes filled with pure hatred stared at me. Carefully I cut the strings of the first rat and sat the animal with the red-glowing fur down. In less than an instant it had vanished around the corner. A short clapping, an angry yelp (yes, the rats actually yelp down here) and through my mirror I saw a red spot flying past the corner and hitting the wall on the other side. It fell down like a lump of meat and layed on the floor for a moment, then jumped up again and vanished in a hole nearby. A repressed cry had come from the end of the tunnel leading to the vine cellar of Lord Rust - where I had to pass through.

"Eeek! A rat!"
"Shut up and keep looking out. She´ll be here soon enough. You know I want her."

I smiled grimly into the darkness.
Sarah Rubis and Betty Drowner.
My favourite foes in one spot.
This was too good to be true.

"Where´s Lindy? She was supposed to meet us here."
"Sshh. She probably had to slow down a bit on the way. She´ll come."

And it was even getting better.

I had met Lindy only 20 minutes ago. Now she was hanging from an iron hook in another tunnel, with a gag in her mouth. A plan began to take shape in my mind.

Their trap was simple, but effective. Somewhere on the ground they had installed a board, connected to a few springs. Whoever stepped onto the board was catapulted through the tunnel and smashed against the the wall on the other end. That´s what had happened to the rat. Even though the trap itself was not lethal, the girls had enough time to make it lethal by shooting poisoned darts at you while you were still lying on the ground, trying to figure out what had hit you.

Quickly I searched my bag for the small pieces of cheese and bacon I had needed to catch the rats under UU premises. I threw them around the corner near the spot where I guessed the trap must be and loosened the string around the legs of the second rat, but leaving the one around its neck. Now I had a rat on a leash. Of course it tried to get away from me as quick as possible, but since there were only two ways to go, why not taking the road leading to food?

I felt the pull and saw the red furball with the glowing eyes running around the corner. Carefully I followed, moving very close along the wall. I couldn´t see a thing, but then my opponents were certainly as blind as I was. The red light of the rat´s fur wasn´t bright, it only showed the animal itself, not its suroundings, so I felt pretty save.

Another clapping sound and the leash was pulled out of my hand. I saw the shape of the board sticking out only about a meter or so in front of my feet. Then I heard a repressed curse and saw a figure coming around the corner. Sarah darted out of her hide for the second time to set the trap. She startled a little when I appeared at her side and helped her pushing the board down again.

"Lindy?"
"Yes." I said quietly, immitating the lisp of the blond second-year.
"Was about time." she whispered and let the bolt snap back, "Is she behind you?"
"Yes, hurry up."

She finished her work and pulled me around the next corner where Betty was already waiting. Since Betty didn´t like rats in the least, Sarah had to do most of the work. The other girl was more into the poison business, as the blowpipes and darts on the floor indicated. The little light falling into this side of the tunnel was enough to make out objects and people, but since both girls were anxiously staring into the tunnel I´d just come from they didn´t recognize me. Just another second-year serving as bait, they probably thought. But I had to act, before one of them turned around.

I reached into my bag and felt for my last rat. The beast tried to bite me, but with its muzzle firmly tied, it was a useless attempt. I loosened the string around its paws and left the one around its neck. This rat had been the strongest of the three.

I wondered if Betty would appreciate the present I now attached to her left ankle.

-----ooooo-----

The scream that followed could be heard throughout the whole sewer system.

It even saved the life of another first-year. Little Daniel was surrounded by second-years and while they were trying to figure out where the inhuman howl was coming from, he stabbed one, wounded two others with his dagger and raced off.

While Betty was jumping up and down screaming Sarah turned to me and drew her knife. I held my own up and waited for her attack.
With a growl she leapt forward.

But our blades never met.

Howling Betty had jumped first – to the only person she expected to get help from: Sarah.

The two girls collided in mid-air and fell back onto the dark, dirty ground, a yelling mix of arms, legs, knives and mud – and a very confused red-glowing rat.
Before either of them could get their senses back, I turned around and ran to the secret door of the vine cellar. Pulling an iron torch holder opened it. I slipped through and closed it from the other side.

I had passed.

-----ooooo-----

Chidder was waiting on a table with a glass of beer in front of him. I walked over and took a seat. A few guests threw angry glances in my direction, but most of the regulars didn´t even frown at the foul smell that had entered the tavern with me.
Most regulars of the Drum are used to worse.

My advisor sipped at his beer and waved the waitress.
"What do you want?"
Since you don´t get Bailey´s anywhere on the Disc (I still hope Pterry will be doing something about that in the future) I ordered a lemonade.

"So…" Chidder continued, "You passed. I guess that means we´ll still be working together next year."
I nodded slowly, too tired to comment his heavy sigh.

"Mr. Vimes gave me a message for you."
My head jerked up.
"What?"

"He told me to tell you Mrs. Rimme had confessed. She and her husband were trying to invade this part of the country in their own way. They probably thought once Ankh-Morpork had lost its ruler – a man who knew about their kind and forbid even imitating their ways – there would be nothing left hindering them and their people to come in and take everything into their hands. Apparently Mr. Rimme was the one insisting on signing the bombs so everyone could see the power of the Wordless…"

Something clicked in my head.
"The "Wordless"……you mean mime artists."

That´s why their receipts had been blank. And belatedly I realized that even their name held a clue I´d missed. Well, that´s life for you – in a TV crime-story someone would have seen that earlier.

"Did Vimes find out why they put the bomb in Mr. Gumtree´s house?"
"The shape of the room under the house was similar to the arch of the Palace tower. Kind of the perfect test area."
"Why did he suspect the Rimmes in the first place?"
"It seems that the gargoyle following you made a report about where you went. Others were sent to various places to watch the people you met and talked to. Somehow they found out about the paper - I can´t imagine how, but obviously there was a pile of it in the back room of their stationery store. Vimes made a remark about having the right nose for this job."

He shrugged.
"Maybe just a copper´s saying. What are you grinning about?"
"Uh…nothing."

Lost in thoughts I slurped the rest of my lemonade.
"What happened to Mrs. Rimme?"
"I heard she´s waiting for the trial. Rolo said nobody saw her leaving the palace."

So Vetinari had found a free scorpion pit for his guest.

Suddenly a hairy hand fell on my shoulder.
"Ook!"
"Oh, thank you. But how did you know about the final?"
"Ook."
"Well, that´s as good an explanation as any. I´ll see you around."
The Librarian winked and went over to the counter before the barman could hide the peanut bowls.

Chidder got up.
"Well then…how do you feel about Klatchian?"
"About Klatchians?"
"Food. Klatchian…food. Maybe we can have dinner in the Curry Gardens tonight? To…you know…celebrate that you´re still alive and…the city is save and all…"
I only glared.
"Chidder, are you asking me out?"
He sighed.
"I suppose so. What do you say?"
"I´d be delighted."
"Fine. Then I´ll pick you up at 8 o´clock."

-----ooooo-----

With a sigh Jill looked down at my muddy pantsuit. "If I were you I´d burn this one…" she murmured and handed me a white blouse with self-made embroidery. Spiders and suchlike. Much better than that awful flower stuff.
"This should fit. You sure you don´t want a dress?"
"No, I hate them. Really. I can take my other pair of trousers. Thanks a lot for the blouse."
"You´re welcome. Use one of the showers upstairs, I saw a few of the second-years fiddling with the ones on this floor. They must be trying out Nivor´s bathroom traps."
"Okay, thanks. See you later."

Climbing up the house wall and onto the roof I heard her yelling after me.
"And don´t forget to read the chapter about first dates!"
I grumbled something and glanced at the book she had given me, the horrible "How to find the man of your dreems…"- hardcover.

I had intended to "forget" it on a smoking chimney, but maybe – somewhere in the distant future - Jill wanted to look up one of the few passages she hadn´t learned by heart yet. So I just stuffed it deep into my cupboard before I went to the showers.

An hour and three big pieces of soap later I finally felt like a human being again.

-----ooooo-----

It was a nice evening.

The curry was excellent and we talked about lessons and teachers and what we were going to do during Hogswatch holidays (I let Chidder do the talking here since I couldn´t possibly tell him about a certain space station).

Suddenly we found ourselves out on dark and empty Blood Alley, strolling towards Contract Bridge. The moon was full, the stars bright and slowly but surely this was getting a romantic touch with all the ingrediences: Red faces, shuffling feet and long periods of distressing silence.

Both of us welcomed the attack of two thieves near the bridge.
They were licensed and armed with huge swords, but new in town - obviously.
No thief in his right mind tries to rob Assassins.

A few minutes later they were running away with greater speed than they had appeared with.

Chidder chuckled a little.
"Have I ever told you about my first night as certified Assassin?"
I shook my head. Couldn´t tell him that I had read all about it with interest, could I?

"Well, Arthur and Teppic – one of my classmates, you haven´t met him yet – and I were a bit drunk. After the celebration, you know. It was a night like this, full of stars, very beautiful…I think…well, I don´t remember everything, but I do remember these guys with their swords…"

I couldn´t blame him for leaving out the part about Teppic´s change and the grass growing wherever his former classmate set his feet. And exaggerating when it came to how many attackers there were and Chidder´s own actions to get rid of them.
He is a great story-teller (must be genetic) and after a few laughters and one or two sideway glances it finally happened.

We kissed.

-----ooooo-----

It turned out to be the last happy evening for a very long time.

-----ooooo-----

End (of Part 4)