Мор - ученик смерти

           Heshottohisfeetwithastrangledcry,watchedbluefireworksexplodeinfrontofhiseyes,andcollapsedagain.Ysabellcaughthimundertheshouldersandhauledhimbackonhisfeet.

           ’Let’sgodowntotheriver,’shesaid.’Ithinkwecouldalldowithadrink.’

           ’Whathappenedtome?’

           Sheshruggedasbestshecouldwhilesupportinghisweight.

           ’SomeoneusedtheRiteofAshkEnte.Fatherhatesit,hesaystheyalwayssummonhimatinconvenientmoments.ThepartofyouthatwasDeathwentandyoustayedbehind.Ithink.Atleastyou’vegotyourownvoiceback.’

           ’Whattimeisit?’

           ’Whattimedidyousaythepriestscloseupthepyramid?’

           Mortsquintedthroughstreamingeyesbacktowardsthetomboftheking.Sureenough,torchlitfingerswereworkingonthedoor.Soon,accordingtothelegend,theguardianswouldcometolifeandbegintheirendlesspatrol.

           Heknewtheywould.Herememberedtheknowledge.Herememberedhismindfeelingascoldasiceandlimitlessasthenightsky.Herememberedbeingsummonedintoreluctantexistenceatthemomentthefirstcreaturelived,inthecertainknowledgethathewouldoutlivelifeuntilthelastbeingintheuniversepassedtoitsreward,whenitwouldthenbehisjob,figurativelyspeaking,toputthechairsonthetablesandturnaUthelightsoff.

           Herememberedtheloneliness.

           ’Don’tleaveme,’hesaidurgently.

           ’I’mhere,’shesaid.’Foraslongasyouneedme.’

           ’It’smidnight,’hesaiddully,sinkingdownbytheTsortandloweringhisachingheadtothewater.