The Fifth Elephant

SAY, BUT YOUR TIME DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE NOW .
    Death pulled out an hourglass, held it up against the cold stars for a moment, and stalked away along the riverbank.
    “’Scuse me, there’s no chance of a lift, is there?” said Gaspode, struggling after him.
    N ONE WHATSOEVER .
    “Only, being a short dog in deep snow is not good for the ol’ wossnames, if you get my—”
    Death had stopped at a little bay. An indistinct shape lay in a few inches of water.
    “Oh,” said Gaspode.
    Death leaned down. There was a flash of blue, and then he vanished.
    Gaspode shivered. He paddled into the water, and nudged Gavin’s sodden fur with his nose.
    “Shouldn’t be like this,” he whined. “If you was a human, they’d put you in a big boat on the tide and set fire to it, an’ everyone’d see. Shouldn’t just be you an’ me down here in the cold.”
    There was something that had to be done, too. He knew it in his bones. He crawled back to the bank and pulled himself up onto the trunk of a fallen willow.
    He cleared his throat.
    Then he howled.
    It started badly, hesitantly, but it picked up and got stronger, richer…and when he paused for breath the howl went on and on, passing from throat to throat across the forest.
    The sound wrapped him as he slid off the log and struggled on toward higher ground. It lifted him over the deeper snow. It wound around the trees, a plaiting of many voices becoming something with a life of its own. He remembered thinking: Maybe it’ll even get as far as Ankh-Morpork.
    Maybe it’ll get much farther than that.

    Vimes was impressed by the baroness. She fought back in a corner.
    “I know nothing about any deaths—”
    A howl came up from the forest. How many wolves were there? You never saw them…and then, when they cried out, it sounded as though there was one behind every tree. This one went on and on—it sounded like a cry thrown into a lake of air, the ripples spreading out across the mountains.
    Angua threw her head back and screamed. Then, breath hissing between her teeth, she advanced on the baroness, fingers flexing.
    “Give him…the damn stone,” she hissed. “Will any…of…you…face me? Now? Then…give him the stone!”
    “What theems to be the throuble?”
    Igor lurched through the stricken gates, trailed by Detritus. He caught sight of the two bodies and hurried over like a very large spider.
    “Fetch the stone,” growled Angua. “And then…we…will leave. I can smell it. Or do you…want me to take it?”
    Serafine glared at her, then turned on her heel and ran back into the ruins of the castle. The other werewolves shrank back from Angua as if her stare were a whip.
    “If you can’t help these men,” said Vimes to the kneeling Igor, “your future does not look good.”
    Igor nodded. “Thith one,” he said, indicating Tantony, “fleth woundth, I can thitch him up a treat, no problem. Thith one,” he tapped Carrot, “…nasty break on the arm.” He glanced up. “Marthter Wolfgang been playing again?”
    “Can you make him well?” snapped Vimes.
    “No, it’th hith lucky day,” said Igor. “I can make him better . I’ve got some kidneyth jutht in, a lovely little pair, belonged to young Mr. Crapanthy, hardly touched a drop of thtrong licker, shame about the avalanchthe…”
    “Does he need them?” said Angua.
    “No, but you thould never mith an opportunity to improve yourthelf, I alwayth thay.”
    Igor grinned. It was a strange sight. The scars crawled around his face like caterpillars.
    “Just see to the arm,” said Vimes, firmly.
    The baroness reappeared, flanked by several werewolves. They also backed away as Angua spun around.
    “Take it,” said Serafine. “Take the wretched thing. It is a fake. No crime has been committed!”
    “I’m a policeman,” said Vimes. “I can always find a crime.”

    The sleigh slid under its own weight down the track toward Bonk, the town’s watchmen running alongside it and giving it the occasional push. With their captain down they were lost and bewildered and in no mood to take orders from Vimes, but they did what Angua commanded because Angua was of the class that traditionally gave them orders…
    The two casualties were bedded down on blankets.
    “Angua?” said Vimes.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “There’s wolves keeping pace with us. I can see them running between the trees.”
    “I know.”
    “Are they on our side?”
    “Let’s just say…they’re not on anyone else’s side yet,