Мор - ученик смерти

           Hecouldseeacrossthecourtyardintotheglowingstreetsoutside,whereapictureoftheprincesssmiledatthesky.

           ’Tellmeaboutthepictures,’hesaid.Thatlookslikesomesortofwizardthing.’

           ’I’mnotsureifit’sworking.Yousee,peoplewerebeginningtogetupsetandtheydidn’tknowwhy,andthatmadeitworse.Theirmindswereinonerealityandtheirbodieswereinanother.Veryunpleasant.Theycouldn’tgetusedtotheideathatshewasstillalive.Ithoughtthepicturesmightbeagoodideabut,youknow,peoplejustdon’tseewhattheirmindtellsthemisn’tthere.’

           ’Icouldhavetoldyouthat,’saidMortbitterly.

           ’Ihadthetowncriersoutduringthedaytime,’Cutwellcontinued.’Ithoughtthatifpeoplecouldcometobelieveinher,thenthisnewrealitycouldbecometherealone.’

           ’Mmmph?’saidMort.Heturnedawayfromthewindow.’Whatdoyoumean?’

           ’Well,yousee–Ireckonedthatifenoughpeoplebelievedinher,theycouldchangereality.Itworksforgods.Ifpeoplestopbelievinginagod,hedies.Ifalotofthembelieveinhim,hegrowsstronger.’

           ’Ididn’tknowthat.Ithoughtgodswerejustgods.’

           ’Theydon’tlikeittalkedabout,’saidCutwell,shufflingthroughtheheapofbooksandparchmentsonhisworktable.

           ’Well,thatmightworkforgods,becausethey’respecial,’saidMort.’Peopleare–moresolid.Itwouldn’tworkforpeople.’

           That’snottrue.Let’ssupposeyouwentoutofhereandprowledaroundthepalace.