Мор - ученик смерти

           ’You’reright.There’snojustice.There’sjustyou.’

           Deathhesitated,andthenslowlyloweredtheblade.HeturnedandlookeddownintoYsabell’sface.Shewasshakingwithanger.

           YOURMEANING?

           ShegloweredupatDeath’sfaceandthenherhandswungbackandswungaroundandswungforwardandconnectedwithasoundlikeadicebox.

           Itwasnothinglikeasloudasthesilencethatfollowedit.

           Kelishuthereyes.Cutwellturnedawayandputhisarmsoverhishead.

           Deathraisedahandtohisskull,veryslowly.

           Ysabell’schestroseandfellinamannerthatshouldhavemadeCutwellgiveupmagicforlife.

           Finally,inavoiceevenmorehollowthanusual,Deathsaid:WHY?

           ’Yousaidthattotinkerwiththefateofoneindividualcoulddestroythewholeworld,’saidYsabell.

           YES?

           ’Youmeddledwithhis.Andmine.’Shepointedatremblingfingeratthesplintersofglassonthefloor.’Andthose,too.’

           WELL?

           ’Whatwillthegodsdemandforthat?’

           FROMME?

           ’Yes!’

           Deathlookedsurprised.THEGODSCANDEMANDNOTHINGOFME.EVENGODSANSWERTOME,EVENTUALLY.

           ’Doesn’tseemveryfair,doesit?Don’tthegodsbotheraboutjusticeandmercy?’snappedYsabell.Withoutanyonequitenoticingshehadpickedupthesword.

           Deathgrinned.IAPPLAUDYOUREFFORTS,hesaid,BUTTHEYAVAILYOUNAUGHT.STANDASIDE.

           ’No.’

           YOUMUSTBEAWARETHATEVENLOVEISNODEFENCEAGAINSTME.IAMSORRY.

           Ysabellraisedthesword.’You’resorry?’

           STANDASIDE,ISAY.

           ’No.You’rejustbeingvindictive