Mort

'Haven't you just saved my life?'

'I don't know what I have saved, actually. Is there some light around here?'

The maid sometimes leaves matches on the mantelpiece,' said Keli. She felt the presence beside her move away. There were a few hesitant footsteps, a couple of thumps, and finally a clang, although the word isn't sufficient to describe the real ripe cacophony of falling metal that filled the room. It was even followed by the traditional little tinkle a couple of seconds after you thought it was all over.

The voice said, rather indistinctly, 'I'm under a suit of armour. Where should I be?'

Keli slid quietly out of bed, felt her way towards the fireplace, located the bundle of matches by the faint light from the dying fire, struck one in a burst of sulphurous smoke, lit a candle, found the pile of dismembered armour, pulled its sword from its scabbard and then nearly swallowed her tongue.

Someone had just blown hot and wetly in her ear.

That's Binky,' said the heap. 'He's just trying to be friendly. I expect he'd like some hay, if you've got any.'

With royal self-control, Keli said, This is the fourth floor. It's a lady's bedroom. You'd be amazed at how many horses we don't get up here.'

'Oh. Could you help me up, please?'

She put the sword down and pulled aside a breastplate. A thin white face stared back at her.

'First, you'd better tell me why I shouldn't send for the guards anyway,' she said. 'Even being in my bedroom could get you tortured to death.'

She glared at him.

Finally he said, 'Well – could you let my hand free, please? Thank you – firstly, the guards probably wouldn't see me, secondly, you'll never find out why I'm here and you look as though you'd hate not to know, and thirdly. . . .'

Thirdly what?' she said.

His mouth opened and shut. Mort wanted to say: thirdly, you're so beautiful, or at least very attractive, or anyway far more attractive than any other girl I've ever met, although admittedly I haven't met very many. From this it will be seen that Mort's i

Keli held up the candle and looked at the window.

It was whole. The stone frames were unbroken. Every pane, with its stained-glass representatives of the Sto Lat coat of arms, was complete. She looked back at Mort.

'Never mind thirdly,' she said, 'let's get back to secondly.'

An hour later dawn reached the city. Daylight on the Disc flows rather than rushes, because light is slowed right down by the world's standing magical field, and it rolled across the flat lands like a golden sea. The city on the mound stood out like a sandcastle in the tide for a moment, until the day swirled around it and crept onwards.

Mort and Keli sat side by side on her bed. The hourglass lay between them. There was no sand left in the top bulb.

From outside came the sounds of the castle waking up.

'I still don't understand this,' she said. 'Does it mean I'm dead, or doesn't it?'

'It means you ought to be dead,' he said, 'according to fate or whatever. I haven't really studied the theory,'

'And you should have killed me?'

'No! I mean, no, the assassin should have killed you. I did try to explain all that,' said Mort.

'Why didn't you let him?'

Mort looked at her in horror.

'Did you want to die?'

'Of course I didn't. But it looks as though what people want doesn't come into it, does it? I'm trying to be sensible about this.'

Mort stared at his knees. Then he stood up.

'I think I'd better be going,' he said coldly.

He folded up the scythe and stuck it into its sheath behind the saddle. Then he looked at the window.

'You came through that,' said Keli, helpfully. 'Look, when I said —'

'Does it open?'

'No. There's a balcony along the passage. But people will see you!'

Mort ignored her, pulled open the door and led Binky out into the corridor. Keli ran after them. A maid stopped, curtsied, and frowned slightly as her brain wisely dismissed the sight of a very large horse walking along the carpet.

The balcony overlooked one of the i

'Watch out for the duke,' he said. 'He's behind all this.'

'My father always warned me about him,' said the princess. 'I've got a food taster.'

'You should get a bodyguard as well,' said Mort. 'I must go. I have important things to do. Farewell,' he added, in what he hoped was the right tone of injured pride.

'Shall I see you again?' said Keli. 'There's lots I want to —'

'That might not be a good idea, if you think about it,' said Mort haughtily. He clicked his tongue, and Binky leapt into the air, cleared the parapet and cantered up into the blue morning sky.

'I wanted to say thank you!' Keli yelled after him.

The maid, who couldn't get over the feeling that something was wrong and had followed her, said, 'Are you all right, ma'am?'

Keli looked at her distractedly.

'What?' she demanded.

'I just wondered if – everything was all right?'

Keli's shoulders sagged.

'No,' she said. 'Everything's all wrong. There's a dead assassin in my bedroom. Could you please have something done about it?

'And —' she held up a hand – 'I don't want you to say "Dead, ma'am?" or "Assassin, ma'am?" or scream or anything, I just want you to get something done about it. Quietly. I think I've got a headache. So just nod.'

The maid nodded, bobbed uncertainly, and backed away.

Mort wasn't sure how he got back. The sky simply changed from ice blue to sullen grey as Binky eased himself into the gap between dimensions. He didn't land on the dark soil of Death's estate, it was simply there, underfoot, as though an aircraft carrier had gently manoeuvred itself under a jump jet to save the pilot all the trouble of touching down.

The great horse trotted into the stableyard and halted outside the double door, swishing his tail. Mort slid off and ran for the house.

And stopped, and ran back, and filled the hayrack, and ran for the house, and stopped and muttered to himself and ran back and rubbed the horse down and checked the water bucket, and ran for the house, and ran back and fetched the horse blanket down from its hook on the wall and buckled it on. Binky gave him a dignified nuzzle.

No one seemed to be about as Mort slipped in by the back door and made his way to the library, where even at this time of night the air seemed to be made of hot dry dust. It seemed to take years to locate Princess Keli's biography, but he found it eventually. It was a depressingly slim volume on a shelf only reachable by the library ladder, a wheeled rickety structure that strongly resembled an early siege engine.

With trembling fingers he opened it at the last page, and groaned.