Chapter 20
Vimes stood in the courtyard of his home, surveying the prisoners. Winkelson lay flat on his back, still concussed by the chakram bagel. Porphyry, a gryphon shaped dent in his skull, was nonetheless sitting up and glowering. The vampire was slinking around looking ridiculous in what he vaguely recognised as his wife's beekeeping suit.
"Now," he said. "Let's sort out exactly what has been going on, shall we?"
"Um, said Angua, "Perhaps we should deal with the dragon first." They all looked up.
The dragon soared overhead, huge, shining, scaly and magnificent. Fire seemed to coalesce around her wings, as if the air itself was burning in her presence.
"Hoorah!" cried Buffybot.
"Oh my," said Lady Sybil.
Carrot squinted. "Is it my imagination, or has she got bigger?"
"And shinier," added Cheery.
Angua frowned up at the shimmering dragon. "And just a bit more ... unreal."
"It's the magic," said Vimes gloomily. "This whole bloody place is alive with it. Which is all down to history."
"Ooh, history!" said Buffybot, excited. She loved history.
Vimes spared her a glance. "The history, that is, of a bunch of blithering homicidal idiots." He gazed bitterly in the direction of the Unseen University. "Wizards," he said in withering tones. "Like a bunch of big kids playing with matches."
He looked at Count Winkelson, who was coming round, and was now writhing on the ground. "And he's worse. Thinking you can run a city by magic. Magic isn't about the mundane. Look at that thing!" He gestured at the dragon circling the turret above them. "No one in their right mind should believe they could control that."
The dragon tucked in her wings, made a tight turn, and landed in the courtyard. Everyone stepped back. Except Buffybot, who stepped out, grinning.
"Thanks for coming, dragon!" She stared into the swirling multi faceted eye for a moment, and then turned. "She says she's hungry. She only ate a few sheep the whole time she's been here. And she says they were very stringy."
"The poor thing!" said Lady Sybil sympathetically. "I wonder if we have anything she'd like?"
The dragon turned her snakelike neck, snatched up Ernest Winkelson, crunched and swallowed. There was a terrible silence.
"Ooh!" Buffybot's eyes were wide. "You shouldn't have done that, dragon. Mr Winkelson was under arrest."
The dragon snorted dismissively. Then she frowned, and sat back on her haunches as a little smoke appeared out of her nostrils. Everyone stepped back uneasily. The dragon burped a massive flame 20 feet long, which scorched everything in its path, then spat up a singed opera hat, a stiff white dickey, and a pair of braces.
"My swamp dragons do just the same thing," said Lady Sybil, delighted. She made a note in her notebook. "Often from both ends at once," she added. Those Watchmen near the back of the dragon moved hastily away.
"Down everyone! She's about to blow!" cried Lady Sybil, tackling Vimes from behind. There was a huge discordant clattering noise as humans, dwarfs, trolls and others - many of them dressed in chain mail - threw themselves to the ground and covered their heads.
The dragon belched a burning smoke ring, reared up on her hind legs, and then spat the corpse of the necromancer 20 feet upwards in a gush of fire. He sailed, a black clad fireball, in a high arc across the courtyard and hit the wall of the house with a dull squelch, then slid down it, still burning.
Two angry jets of steam emerged from the dragon's nostrils, and she spat ostentatiously on the courtyard floor. The flagstones sizzled.
"Silver nitrate," said Spike, risking a look from his safe position behind a horse trough. "I told you the silly bugger was poisoning himself with silver nitrate. I reckon the dragon tasted it and she didn't fancy blowing up as she digested him."
"Oh," said Lady Sybil wistfully, "if only her little cousins could have her common sense." She climbed carefully off Vimes, who lay spread-eagled breathlessly beneath her. "I do hope I didn't hurt you, dear?"
After a stunned moment, Vimes staggered to his feet, wheezing - and painfully conscious of the sea of eyes regarding him, and what they were all thinking. Well, everyone except Bott, probably - she was a simpleton.
"Can I check you for broken ribs, sir?" asked Buffybot eagerly. "I've got a first aid certificate!"
"No!" Vimes coughed. "That is, there's no need, Bott. I'm quite all right. Just a little winded." He glared at his Watchmen, daring anyone to so much as titter.
Buffybot turned her attention to the dragon. "I'm very sorry the bad man nearly poisoned you, but you really shouldn't have eaten him the first place. It's not really a good way to make friends in a new place, now is it?" She stepped forward, and wrapped the chain of the Orb neatly across the dragon's massive foot. Hot dragon breath ruffled her blonde hair as she bent to loop the chain around a talon. "There," she stood up and regarded her handiwork. "I've fixed it with a matchstick. It should turn the whole way if you swing it about a bit." She looked deep into the dragon's swirling multi-faceted eye. She smiled and stepped away. "You too!"
The dragon shrugged, massively. Then she took off, creating a huge swirling downdraft, and setting everyone's hair and shirtsleeves flapping. The Orb dangled from her claws, and as she looped the loop it flashed in the sunlight, completing the three quarter turn. In a moment dragon and jewel had winked out of existence.
There was a further silence in the courtyard below.
"Oh, wouldn't it have been wonderful to keep her!" sighed Lady Sybil, "Though I suppose the pet food bills would have become rather daunting."
"And now," said Vimes in a tone that brooked no argument. "You should all be getting along, to your own world, before something else happens to Porphyry. He seems to be a bit accident prone."
There was a general clearing of throats, and Vimes sighed. "Although, Lance Constable Bott is welcome to stay if she wishes. Being emancipated, as we are all delighted to say that she is."
Buffybot beamed. "Thank you everyone! And I really, really wish I could stay. There are criminals to bring to justice here, and citizens to protect! But I need to go home to help Buffy kill evil demons, and Tara's teaching me how to make lentil casserole this Friday."
Porphyry scowled. "I stand by my word. Even though I have been cheated of my desire to rip the blackguard Winkelson into tiny pieces and spit on them."
"Yeah, well, said Spike, "I was planning the same. Without the spitting, though," he added. "Might have danced on them a bit."
Porphyry gestured, and a small swirling void appeared before him.
Lady Sybil smiled down at Buffybot. "Thank you for bringing the dragon here, anyway, Bottie. You and your twin," she smiled at Buffy, "and your dear funny vampire friend." Spike scowled.
"Now, where is Gaspode - I know I saw him running ... ah yes." When it appeared the dragon was about to explode, Gaspode had turned tail for the flowerbeds, and dug himself a hole. Unluckily for him, Lady Sybil had seen him do it. She stepped over, bent down and dragged him out by the collar, covered in black soil, and the heavily mulched horse manure that she used on her flowerbeds.
"Ooh! Can I take him with me?" cried Buffybot eagerly.
"No!" said Buffy.
"No!" said Gaspode, his ears flattening against his head. He'd heard Buffybot's plans for him, as they sat talking with Lady Sybil on the couch the other evening. Baths? Ear drops? Worming tablets? Flea powder? It was sheer madness.
"Goodbye then, little dog," cried Buffybot, a tear in her eye. She bent forward, and although Gaspode wriggled and did his best to escape, she kissed him firmly on the nose. Then she looked up at all her new friends, sputtering dog clasped to her bosom. "Goodbye everyone!"
"Make sure you hand in that helmet and breastplate before you go, Bott," said Vimes, "that's City property."
Buffybot unbuckled her precious armour, and embraced everybody, one by one. Then Buffy grabbed her arm and hurried her to the sputtering green vortex that surrounded Porphyry's fallen body. She looked back at Spike. "I suppose you should come as well," she said ungraciously. "If you can tear yourself away from your creepy Lady Cruella, that is."
Spike managed a smirk. "Jealous, are we? I'm not surprised. Classy lady, is Margolotta - and very ... responsive." Then he strolled across to the green vortex, tilting the hat of his bee suit against the sunlight. He gestured with a be-gloved hand. "Slayers first."
"Like hell," growled Buffy, and then she pushed Spike sharply into the vortex, eliciting a startled yelp, and stepped in behind him, dragging a waving and smiling Buffybot behind her.
The vortex closed with a faint snap.
"And good riddance," muttered Vimes. Then he dismissed his troops, kissed his wife, and took the emerald ring to the anvils of the dwarves, where he made sure they found an effective way to smash it.
The End