Мор - ученик смерти

           ’It’sgoingtokilltheprincess,isn’tit?’saidMort.

           ’Yes,’saidCutwell,’andthenagain,no.’Hepausedwithhishandonthedoorhandle.’Thatwasprettyperspicaciousofyou.Howdidyouknow?’

           ’I—’Morthesitated.

           ’Shetoldmeaverystrangestory,’saidCutwell.

           ’Iexpectshedid,’saidMort.’Ifitwasunbelievable,itwastrue.’

           ’You’rehim,areyou?Death’sassistant?’

           ’Yes.Offdutyatthemoment,though.’

           ’Pleasedtohearit.’

           Cutwellshutthedoorbehindthemandfumbledforacandlestick.Therewasapop,aflashofbluelightandawhimper.

           ’Sorry,’hesaid,suckinghisfingers.’Firespell.Neverreallygotthehangofit.’

           ’Youwereexpectingthedomething,weren’tyou?’saidMorturgently.’Whatwillhappenwhenitclosesin?’

           Thewizardsatdownheavilyontheremainsofabaconsandwich.

           ’I’mnotexactlysure,’hesaid.’It’llbeinterestingtowatch.Butnotfrominside,I’mafraid.WhatIthinkwillhappenisthatthelastweekwillneverhaveexisted.’

           ’She’llsuddenlydie?’

           ’Youdon’tquiteunderstand.Shewillhavebeendeadforaweek.Allthis—’hewavedhishandsvaguelyintheair–’willnothavehappened.Theassassinwillhavedonehisjob.Youwillhavedoneyours.Historywillhavehealeditself.Everythingwillbeallright.FromHistory’spointofview,thatis.Therereallyisn’tanyother.’

           Mortstaredoutofthenarrowwindow.