Mort

'Does it?'

MAYBE. WHO KNOWS? Mort took the hourglass out of an i

The girl's shade sat up and stretched, with a clink of ghostly jewellery. She caught sight of Mort, and bowed her head.

'My lord!'

NO ONE'S LORD, said Mort. NOW RUN ALONG TO WHEREVER YOU BELIEVE YOU'RE GOING.

'I shall be a concubine at the heavenly court of King Zetesphut, who will dwell among the stars forever,' she said firmly.

'You don't have to be,' said Ysabell sharply. The girl turned to her, wide-eyed.

'Oh, but I must. I've been training for it,' she said, as she faded from view. 'I've only managed to be a handmaiden up till now.'

She vanished. Ysabell stared with dark disapproval at the space she had occupied.

'Well!' she said, and, 'Did you see what she had on?'

LET'S GET OUT OF HERE.

'But it can't be true about King Whosis dwelling among the stars,' she grumbled as they found their way out of the crowded room. 'There's nothing but empty space up there.'

IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN, said Mort. HE'LL DWELL AMONG THE STARS IN HIS OWN MIND.

'With slaves?'

IF THAT'S WHAT THEY THINK THEY ARE.

That's not very fair.'

THERE'S NO JUSTICE, said Mort. JUST US.

They hurried back along the avenues of waiting ghouls and were nearly ru

Mort wasn't out of breath.

He wasn't breathing.

I WILL TAKE YOU WHEREVER YOU WANT, he said, AND THEN I MUST LEAVE YOU.

'But I thought you wanted to rescue the princess!'

Mort shook his head.

I HAVE NO CHOICE. THERE ARE NO CHOICES.

She ran forward and grabbed his arm as he turned towards the waiting Binky. He removed her hand gently.

I HAVE FINISHED MY APPRENTICESHIP.

'It's all in your own mind!' yelled Ysabell. 'You're whatever you think you are!'

She stopped and looked down. The sand around Mort's feet was begi

There was a crackle in the air, and a greasy feel. Mort looked uneasy.

SOMEONE IS PERFORMING THE RITE OF ASH —

It hit like a hammer, a force from out of the sky that blew the sand into a crater. There was a low buzzing and the smell of hot tin.

Mort looked around himself in the gale of rushing sand, turning as if in a dream, alone in the calm centre of the gale. Lightning flashed in the whirling cloud. Deep inside his own mind he struggled to break free, but something had him in its grip and he could no more resist than a compass needle can ignore the compulsion to point towards the Hub.

At last he found what he was searching for. It was a doorway edged in octarine light, leading to a short tu

I COME, he said, and then turned as he heard the sudden noise behind him. Eleven stone of young womanhood hit him squarely in the chest, lifting him off the ground.

Mort landed with Ysabell kneeling on him, holding on grimly to his arms.

LET ME GO, he intoned. I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED.

'Not you, idiot!'

She stared into the blue, pupil-less pools of his eyes. It was like looking down a rushing tu

Mort arched his back and screamed a curse so ancient and virulent that in the strong magical field it actually took on a form, flapped its leathery wings and slunk away. A private thunderstorm crashed around the sand dunes.

His eyes drew her again. She looked away before she dropped like a stone down a well made of blue light.

I COMMAND YOU. Mort's voice could have cut holes in rock.

'Father tried that tone on me for years,' she said calmly. 'Generally when he wanted me to clean my bedroom. It didn't work then, either.'

Mort screamed another curse, which flopped out of the air and tried to bury itself in the sand.

THE PAIN —

'It's all in your head,' she said, bracing herself against the force that wanted to drag them towards that flickering doorway. 'You're not Death. You're just Mort. You're whatever I think you are.'

In the centre of the blurred blueness of his eyes were two tiny brown dots, rising at the speed of sight.

The storm around them rose and wailed. Mort screamed.

The Rite of AshkEnte, quite simply, summons and binds Death. Students of the occult will be aware that it can be performed with a simple incantation, three small bits of wood and 4cc of mouse blood, but no wizard worth his pointy hat would dream of doing anything so unimpressive; they knew in their hearts that if a spell didn't involve big yellow candles, lots of rare incense, circles drawn on the floor with eight different colours of chalk and a few cauldrons around the place then it simply wasn't worth contemplating.

The eight wizards at their stations on the points of the great ceremonial octogram swayed and chanted, their arms held out sideways so they were just touching the fingertips of the mages on either side.

But something was going wrong. True, a mist had formed in the very centre of the living octogram, but it was writhing and turning in on itself, refusing to focus.

'More power!' shouted Albert. 'Give it more power!'

A figure appeared momentarily in the smoke, black-robed and holding a glittering sword. Albert swore as he caught a glimpse of the pale face under the cowl; it wasn't pale enough.

'No!' Albert yelled, ducking into the octogram and flailing at the flickering shape with his hands. 'Not you, not you. . . .'

And, in faraway Tsort, Ysabell forgot she was a lady, bunched her fist, narrowed her eyes and caught Mort squarely on the jaw. The world around her exploded. . . .

In the kitchen of Harga's House of Ribs the frying pan crashed to the floor, sending the cats scurrying out of the door. . . .

In the great hall of the Unseen University everything happened at once.[9]

The tremendous force the wizards had been exerting on the shadow realm suddenly had one focus. Like a reluctant cork from a bottle, like a dollop of fiery ketchup from the upturned sauce bottle of Infinity, Death landed in the octogram and swore.

Albert realized just too late that he was inside the charmed ring and made a dive for the edge. But skeletal fingers caught him by the hem of his robe.

The wizards, such of them who were still on their feet and conscious, were rather surprised to see that Death was wearing an apron and holding a small kitten.

'WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SPOIL IT ALL?

'Spoil it all? Have you seen what the lad has done?' snapped Albert, still trying to reach the edge of the ring.

Death raised his skull and sniffed the air.

The sound cut through all the other noises in the hall and forced them into silence.