The rest of him... was having trouble deciding what it was. One arm was trying to be a paw.
Vimes reached for his sword and remembered that it was back on the bed. He rummaged in his
pockets. He knew the other thing was here, he remembered picking it up off the dressing table...
His fingers closed on his badge. He held it out.
"Stop! In the name of the law!"
Wolfgang looked up at him, one eye glowing yellow. The other was a mess.
"Hello, Civilized," he growled. "You wait for me, hey?"
He ducked into the corridor that led to the room where Carrot lay. Vimes tried to catch him up, saw claw-tipped fingers curl around the door and haul it out of its frame.
Carrot was reaching for his sword And then Wolfgang was flying backwards under the full weight of Angua. They landed back in the hall, a rolling ball of fur, claws and teeth. When werewolf fights werewolf, there are advantages to either shape. It"s an eternal struggle to get a position where hands beat claws. And body shapes have lives of their own, a dangerous attribute if it is allowed to act unchecked. A cat"s instinct is to jump on something that moves, but this is not a correct action if what is moving has a fizzing fuse. The mind has to fight its own body for control and the other body for survival. Mix this together, and the noise suggests that there are four creatures in the whirling ball of rage. And each one of them has brought several friends. And none of them like any of the others.
A shadow made Vimes spin around. Detritus, in shining armour, was aiming the _ Piecemaker over the banister.
"Sergeant! No! You"ll hit Angua too!"
"Not a problem, sir," said Detritus, "cos it won"t kill "em, so all we have to do, see, is sort out der bits dat are Wolfgang an" belt him over der head when he gets himself back together - "
"If you fire that in here his bits will be mixed up with our bits and there won"t be big bits! Put the damn thing down!"
Wolfgang couldn"t control his shape well, Vimes saw. He couldn"t quite manage to be full wolf or full human, and Angua was making the most of that. She was ducking, weaving... biting.
But even if you put him down you couldn"t put him out.
"Mister Vimes!" Now it was Cheery, beckoning urgently from the passage that led to the kitchen. "You ought to come here right now!"
She was white-faced. Vimes nudged Detritus. "If they separate, just grab him, right? Just try to hold him still!"
Igor was lying in the kitchen surrounded by broken, glass. Wolfgang must have landed on him and taken out his perpetual anger on a soft target. The patchwork man was bleeding heavily and lay like a doll that had been flung hard against a wall. "Marthter," he groaned.
"Can you do anything for him, Cheery?"
"I wouldn"t know where to start, sir!"
"Marthter, you got to remember thith, right?" Igor groaned.
"Er, yes... what?"
"You got to get me into the ithehouthe downthtairth and let Igor know, underthtand?"
"Which Igor?" said Vimes desperately.
"Any Igor!" Igor clutched at Vimes"s sleeve. "Me heart"th had it, but me liver"th right ath ninepenthe, tell him! Nothing wrong with my brain that a good bolt of lightnin" won"t thort out. Igor can have me right hand, he"th got a cuthtomer waiting. There"th yearth of good thervithe left in my lower intethtine. Left eye not up to much, but I darethay thome poor thoul can find a uthe for it. The right knee ith nearly new. Old M"th Prodzky down the road would value my hip jointth, tell him. Got all that?"
"Yes, yes, I think so."
"Right. Remember... What goeth around, cometh around..."
Igor sank down.
"He"s gone, sir," said Cheery.
But he"ll soon be up and on someone else"s feet, Vimes thought. He didn"t say it aloud. Cheery was soft hearted. Instead he said, "Can you get him into his icehouse? By the sound of it Angua"s winning - "