Мор - ученик смерти

           ButIdon’tknowwhatyou’regettingsoworkedupabout.Lotsofpeopleknowwhathelookedlike.He’sfamous.’

           ’Helivedalongtimeago,didhe?’

           ’Twothousandyears,Ithink.Look,Idon’tknowwhy—’

           ’Ibethedidn’tdie,though,’saidMort.’Ibethejustdisappearedoneday.Didhe?’

           Cutwellwassilentforamoment.

           ’Funnyyoushouldsaythat,’hesaidslowly.TherewasalegendIheard.Hegotuptosomeweirdthings,theysay.TheysayheblewhimselfintotheDungeonDimensionswhiletryingtoperformtheRiteofAshkEntebackwards.Alltheyfoundwashishat.Tragic,really.Thewholecityinmourningforadayjustforahat.Itwasn’tevenaparticularlyattractivehat;ithadburnmarksonit.’

           ’AlbertoMalich,’saidMort,halftohimself.’Well.Fancythat.’

           Hedrummedhisfingersonthetable,althoughthesoundwassurprisinglymuted.

           ’Sorry,’saidCutwell.’Ican’tgetthehangoftreaclesandwiches,either.’

           ’Ireckontheinterfaceismovingataslowwalkingpace,’saidMort,lickinghisfingersabsent-mindedly.’Can’tyoustopitbymagic?’

           Cutwellshookhishead.’Notme.It’dsquashmeflat,’hesaidcheerfully.

           ’What’llhappentoyouwhenitarrives,then?’

           ’Oh,I’llgobacktolivinginWallStreet.Imean,Ineverwillhaveleft.Allthiswon’thavehappened.Pity,though.Thecookinghereisprettygood,andtheydomylaundryforfree.Howfarawaydidyousayitwas,bytheway?’

           ’Abouttwentymiles,Iguess.’.