Terry Pratchett - Feet of Clay

They turned. 'Ah, Mr Carry,' said Carrot cheerfully. He produced his badge. 'Captain Carrot, Ankh-Morpork City Watch—'

'I know who you are! I know who you are! And what you are, too! I knew you'd come! I've got a bow and I'm not afraid to use it!' The crossbow's point moved uncertainly, proving him a liar. 'Really?' said Angua. 'What we are?' 'I didn't even want to get involved!' said Carry. 'It killed those old men, didn't it?'

'Yes,' said Carrot.

'Why? I didn't tell it to!'

'Because they helped make it, I think,' said Carrot. 'It knew who to blame.'

The golems sold it to me!' said Carry. 'I thought it'd help build up the business but the damned thing won't stop—'

He glanced up at the line of candles whirring overhead, but jerked his head back before Angua could move.

'Works hard, does it?'

'Hah!' But Carry didn't look like a man enjoying a joke. He looked like a man in private torment. 'I've laid off everyone except the girls in the packing department, and they're on three shifts and overtime! I've got four men out looking for tallow, two negotiating for wicks and three trying to buy more storage space!'

'Then get it to stop making candles,' said Carrot.

'It goes off into the streets when we run out of tallow! You want it walking around looking for something to do? Hey, you two stay together!' Carry added urgently, waving the crossbow,

'Look, all you have to do is change the words in its head,' said Carrot.

'It won't let me! Don't you think I've tried?'

'It can't not let you,' said Carrot. 'Golems have to let—'

'I said it won't let me!'

'What about the poisoned candles?' said Carrot.

'That wasn't my idea!'

'Whose idea was it?'

Carry's crossbow swung back and forth. He licked his lips. 'This has all gone far too far,' he said. 'I'm getting out.'

'Whose idea, Mr Carry?'

'I'm not going to end up in some alley somewhere with as much blood as a banana!'

'Now then, we wouldn't do anything like that,' said Carrot.

Mr Carry was exporting terror. Angua could smell it streaming off him. He might pull the trigger out of sheer panic.

There was another smell, too. 'Who's the vampire?' she said.

For a moment she thought the man would fire the crossbow. 'I never said anything about him!'

'You've got garlic in your pocket,' said Angua. 'And the place reeks of vampire.'

'He said we could get the golem to do anything,' Carry mumbled.

'Like making poisoned candles?' said Carrot.

'Yes, but he said it'd just keep Vetinari out of the way,' said Carry. He seemed to be getting a tenuous grip on himself. 'And he's not dead, 'cos I'd have heard,' he said. 'I shouldn't think making him ill is a crime, so you can't—'

'The candles killed two other people,' said Carrot.

Carry started to panic again. 'Who?'

'An old lady and a baby in Cockbill Street.'

'Were they important?' said Carry.

Carrot nodded to himself. 'I was almost feeling sorry for you,' he said. 'Right up to that point. You're a lucky man, Mr Carry.'

'You think so?'

'Oh, yes. We got to you before Commander Vimes did. Now, just put down the crossbow and we can talk about—'

There was a noise. Or, rather, the sudden cessation of a noise that had been so pervasive that it had no longer been consciously heard.

The clacking line had stopped. There was a chorus of little waxy thuds as the hanging candles swung and hit one another, and then silence unrolled. The last candle dropped off the line, tumbled down the heap in the hopper, and bounced on the floor.

And in the silence, the sound of footsteps.

Carry started to back away. 'Too late!' he moaned.

Both Carrot and Angua saw his finger move.

Angua pushed Carrot out of the way as the claw released the string, but he had anticipated this and his hand was already flinging itself up and across. She heard the sickening, tearing noise as his palm whirled in front of her face, and his grunt as the force of the bolt spun him round.

He landed heavily on the floor, clutching his left hand. The crossbow bolt was sticking out of the palm.

Angua crouched down. 'It doesn't look barbed, let me pull—'

Carrot grabbed her wrist. 'The point's silver! Don't touch it!'

They both looked up as a shadow crossed the light.

The king golem looked down at her.

She felt her teeth and fingernails begin to lengthen.

Then she saw the small round face of Cheri peering nervously around a pile of crates. Angua fought down her werewolf instincts, screamed 'Stay right there!' at the dwarf and at every swelling hair follicle, and hesitated between pursuing the fleeing Carry and dragging Carrot to safety.

She told her body again that a wolf-shape was not an option. There were too many strange smells, too many fires...

The golem glistened with tallow and wax.

She backed away.

Behind the golem she saw Cheri look down at the groaning Carrot and then up at a fire-axe hooked on the wall. The dwarf took it down and weighed it vaguely in her hands.

'Don't try—' Angua began.

'T'dr'duzkb'hazgt't!'

'Oh, no!' moaned Carrot. 'Not that one!'

Cheri came up behind the golem at a run and hacked at its waist. The axe rebounded but she pirouetted with it and caught the statue on the thigh, chipping off a piece of clay.

Angua hesitated. Cheri's axe was making blurred orbits around the golem while its wielder yelled more terrible battle cries. Angua couldn't make out any words but many dwarf cries didn't bother with words. They went straight for emotions in sonic form. Chips of pottery ricocheted off the crates as each blow landed.

'What did she yell?' Angua said, as she pulled Carrot out of the way.

'It's the most menacing dwarf battle cry there is! Once it's been shouted someone has to be killed!'

'What's it mean?'

'Today Is A Good Day For Someone Else To Die!'

The golem watched the dwarf incuriously, like an elephant watching an attack by a rogue chicken.

Then it picked the axe out of the air, Cheri trailing behind it like a comet, and hurled it aside.

Angua hauled Carrot to his feet. Blood dripped from his hand. She tried to shut her nostrils. Full moon tomorrow. No more choices.

'Maybe we can reason with it—' Carrot started.

'Attention! This is the real world calling!' shouted Angua.

Carrot drew his sword. 'I am arresting you—' he began.

The golem's arm whirred across. The sword buried itself to the hilt in a crate of candles.

'Got any more clever ideas?' said Angua, as they backed away. 'Or can we go now?'

'No. We've got to stop it somewhere.'

Their heels met a wall of crates.

'I think we've found the place,' said Angua as the golem raised its fists again.

'You duck right, I'll duck left. Maybe—'

A blow rocked the big double doors in the far wall.

The king golem's head turned.

The doors shook again, and burst inwards. For a moment Dorfl was framed in the doorway. Then the red golem lowered his head, spread his arms, and charged.

It wasn't a very fast run but it did have a terrible momentum, like the slow slide of a glacier. The floorboards shook and drummed under him.

The golems collided with a clang in the middle of the floor. Jagged lines of fire spread across the king's body as cracks opened, but it roared and caught up Dorfl around the middle and tossed him against the wall.

'Come on,' said Angua. 'Now can we find Cheri and get out of here?'

'We ought to help him,' said Carrot, as the golems smashed into each other again.

'How? If it... if he can't stop it, what makes you think we can? Come on!'

Carrot shook her off.

Dorfl picked itself up from among the bricks and charged again. The golems met, scrabbling at one another for purchase. They stood locked for a moment, creaking, and then Dorfl's hand came up holding something. Dorfl pushed himself back and smashed the other golem over the head with its own leg.