Thud!

say. You deserve a glimpse. Protect your eyes. I, Mister Vimes—”
    A black-robed arm was extended, a black-velvet glove removed. Vimes shut his eyes in time, but the inside of his lids blazed red.
    “—am diamond,” said Mr. Shine.
    The glare faded a little. Vimes risked opening his eyes a bit, and made out a hand, every flexing finger sparkling like a prism. The players glanced up, but they’d seen this before.
    “Frost forms quite quickly,” said Mr. Shine. When Vimes dared to peek, the hand glittered like the heart of winter.
    “You’re hiding out from jewelers?” he managed, taken aback.
    “Hah! In fact, this city is indeed a very good place for people who don’t wish to be seen, Mister Vimes. I have friends here. And I have talents. You’d find me quite hard to see if I wished to be unseen. I am also, frankly, intelligent, and intelligent all the time. I don’t need the Pork Futures Warehouse. I can regulate the temperature of my brain by reflecting all heat. Diamond trolls are very rare, and when we do appear, kingship is our destiny.”
    Vimes waited. Mr. Shine, who was now pulling his glove back on, appeared to have an agenda. The wisest thing was to let him talk until it all made sense.
    “And do you know what happens when we become kings?” said Mr. Shine, now safely shrouded once more.
    “Koom Valley?” Vimes suggested.
    “Well done. The trolls unite, and we have the same tired old war, followed by centuries of skirmishing. That is the sad, stupid history of the trolls and the dwarfs. And this time, Ankh-Morpork will be caught up in it. You know that the troll and dwarf population here has grown enormously under Vetinari.”
    “All right, but if you’re king, can’t you just make peace?”
    “Just like that? It’ll need much more than that.” The hood of the robe shook sadly. “You really know very little about us, Mister Vimes. You see us down on the plains, shambling around, talkin’ like dis. You don’t know about the history chant, or the Long Dance, or stone music. You see the hunched troll dragging his club. That’s what the dwarfs did for us, long ago. They turned us, in your minds, into sad, brainless monsters.”
    “Don’t look at me when you say that,” said Vimes. “Detritus is one of my best officers!”
    There was silence. The Mr. Shine said: “Shall I tell you what I think the dwarfs were looking for, Mister Vimes? Something of theirs. It is a thing that talks. And they found it, and I think what it had to say directly caused five deaths. I believe I know how to find the secret of Koom Valley. In a few weeks, everyone will be able to. But by then, I think, it will be too late. You must solve it, too, before the war sweeps up all of us.”
    “How do you know all this?” said Vimes.
    “Because I’m magical,” said the voice from the hood.
    “Oh, well, if that’s the way you’re—” Vimes began.
    “Patience, Commander,” said Mr. Shine. “I just…simplified. Accept, instead, that I am very…smart. I have an analytical mind. I’ve studied the histories and lore of my hereditary enemy. I have friends who are dwarfs. Quite knowledgeable dwarfs. Quite…powerful dwarfs, who wish for an end to this stupid feud as much as I do. And I have a love of games and puzzles. The Codex was not a terrible challenge.”
    “If it’s going to help me find the murderers of those dwarfs in the mine then you should tell me what you know!”
    “Why trust what I say? I am a troll, I’m partisan, I might wish to direct your thoughts down the wrong path.”
    “Maybe you’ve already!” said Vimes hotly. He knew he was making a fool of himself; it only made him angrier.
    “Good, that’s the spirit!” said Mr. Shine. “Test all that I’ve told you! Where would we be if Commander Vimes relied on magic, eh? No, the secret of Koom Valley must be found by observation and questioning and facts, facts, facts. Possibly I’m helping you find them a little quicker than you might otherwise do. You just have to think about what you know, Commander. And, in the meantime, shall we play a little game?”
    Mr. Shine picked up a box by his chair and upended it over the table.
    “This is Thud, Mister Vimes,” he said, as little stone figures bounced over the board. “Dwarfs versus trolls. Eight trolls and thirty-two dwarfs, forever fighting their little battles on a cardboard Koom Valley.” He began to place the pieces, black-gloved hands moving with un-trollish