Мор - ученик смерти

           ’Um,’saidMort,’willpeoplebeabletoseeme,sir?’

           IIMAGINESO,I’MSURE,saidDeath.IsTHEREANYTHINGELSEIMIGHTBEABLETOASSISTYOUWITHBEFOREYOULEAVEFORTHISDEBAUCH?

           ’Well,sir,thereisonething,sir,Idon’tknowhowtogettothemortalworld,sir,’saidMortdesperately.

           Deathsighedloudly,andpulledopenadeskdrawer.

           JUSTWALKTHERE.

           Mortnoddedmiserably,andtookthelongwalktothestudydoor.AshepulleditopenDeathcoughed.

           BOY!hecalled,andtossedsomethingacrosstheroom.

           Mortcaughtitautomaticallyasthedoorcreakedopen.

           Thedoorwayvanished.Thedeepcarpetunderfootbecamemuddycobbles.Broaddaylightpouredoverhimlikequick-silver.

           ’Mort,’saidMort,totheuniverseatlarge.

           ’What?’saidastallholderbesidehim.Mortstaredaround.Hewasinacrowdedmarketplace,packedwithpeopleandanimals.Everykindofthingwasbeingsoldfromneedlesto(viaafewitinerantprophets)visionsofsalvation.Itwasimpossibletoholdanyconversationquieterthanashout.

           Morttappedthestallholderinthesmalloftheback.

           ’Canyouseeme?’hedemanded.