Мор - ученик смерти

           WithadeftflickhetransportedittothebowloftheEmperor,whereitwobbledtoastandstill.Theboylookedatitforsometime,andthenskewereditonachopstick.

           ’Ah,’hesaid,’butisitnotalsowrittenbynoneotherthanthegreatphilosopherLyTinWheedlethatascholarmayberankedaboveprinces?Iseemtorememberyougivingmethepassagetoreadonce,OFaithfulandAssiduousSeekerofKnowledge.’

           ThethingfollowedanotherbriefarcthroughtheairandfloppedapologeticallyintotheVizier’sbowl.Hescoopeditupinaquickmovementandpoiseditforasecondservice.Hiseyesnarrowed.

           ’Suchmaybegenerallythecase,OJadeRiverofWisdom,butspecificallyIcannotberankedabovetheEmperorwhomIloveasmyownsonandhavedoneeversincehislatefather’sunfortunatedeath,andthusIlaythissmallofferingatyourfeet.’

           Theeyesofthecourtfollowedthewretchedorganonitsthirdflightacrossthemat,buttheEmperorsnatcheduphisfanandbroughtoffamagnificentvolleythatendedbackintheVizier’sbowlwithsuchforcethatitsentupasprayofseaweed.

           ’Somebodyeatit,forheaven’ssake,’shoutedMort,totallyunheard.’I’minahurry!’

           Thouartindeedthemostthoughtfulofservants,0DevotedandIndeedOnlyCompanionofMyLateFatherandGrandfatherWhenTheyPassedOver,andthereforeIdecreethatyourrewardshallbethismostrareandexquisiteofmorsels.’

           TheVizierproddedthethinguncertainly,andlookedintotheEmperor’ssmile.Itwasbrightandterrible.