Soul Music

YES. I COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING.

'How… how did you know I was here…?'

Death waved a hand irritably.

I REMEMBER YOU. AND NOW UNDERSTAND THIS: YOUR PARENTS KNEW THINGS MUST HAPPEN. EVERYTHING MUST HAPPEN SOMEWHERE. DO YOU NOT THINK I SPOKE TO THEM OF THIS? BUT I CANNOT GIVE LIFE. I CAN ONLY GRANT… EXTENSION. CHANGELESSNESS. ONLY HUMANS CAN GIVE LIFE. AND THEY WANTED TO BE HUMAN, NOT IMMORTAL. IF IT HELPS YOU, THEY DIED INSTANTLY. INSTANTLY.

I've got to ask, Susan thought. I've got to say it. Or I'm not human.

'I could go back and save them…?' Only the faintest tremor suggested that the statement was a question.

SAVE? FOR WHAT? A LIFE THAT HAS RUN OUT? SOME THINGS END. I KNOW THIS. SOMETIMES I HAVE THOUGHT OTHERWISE. BUT… WITHOUT DUTY, WHAT AM I? THERE HAS TO BE A LAW.

He climbed into the saddle and, still without turning to face her, spurred Binky out and over the gorge.

There was a haystack behind a livery stable in Phedre Road. It bulged for a moment, and there was a muffled swearing.

A fraction of a second later there was a bout of coughing and another, much better, swear-word inside a grain silo down near the cattle market.

Very shortly after that some rotten floorboards in an old feed store in Short Street exploded upwards, followed by a swear-word that bounced off a flour sack.

'Idiot rodent!' bellowed Albert, fingering grain out of his ear.

SQUEAK.

'I should think so! What size do you think I am?'

Albert brushed hay and flour off his coat and walked over to the window.

'Ah,' he said, 'let us repair to the Mended Drum, then.'

In Albert's pocket, sand resumed its interrupted journey from future to past.

Hibiscus Dunelm had decided to close up for an hour. It was a simple process. First he and his staff collected any unbroken mugs and glasses. This didn't take long. Then there was a desultory search for any weapons with a high resale value, and a quick search of any pockets whose owners were unable to object on account of being drunk, dead or both. Then the furniture was moved aside and everything else was swept out of the back door and into the broad brown bosom of the river Ankh, where it piled up and, by degrees, sank.

Finally, Hibiscus locked and bolted the big front door…

It wouldn't shut. He looked down. A boot was wedged in it.

'We're shut,' he said.

'No, you ain't.'

The door ground back, and Albert was inside.

'Have you seen this person?' he demanded, thrusting a pasteboard oblong in front of Dunelm's eyes.

This was a gross breach of etiquette. Dunelm wasn't in the kind of job where you survived if you told people you'd seen people. Dunelm could serve drinks all night without seeing anyone.

'Never seen him before in my life,' he said, automatically, without even looking at the card.

'You've got to help me,' said Albert, 'otherwise something dreadful will happen.'

'Push off!'

Albert kicked the door shut behind him.

'Just don't say I didn't warn you,' he said. On his shoulder the Death of Rats sniffed the air suspiciously.

A moment later Hibiscus was having his chin pressed firmly into the boards of one of his tables.

'Now, I know he'd come in here,' said Albert, who wasn't even breathing heavily, 'because everyone does, sooner or later. Have another look.'

'That's a Caroc card,' said Hibiscus indistinctly. 'That's Death!'

'That's right. He's the one on the white horse. You can't miss him. Only he wouldn't look like that in here, I expect.'

'Let me get this straight,' said the landlord, trying desperately to wriggle out of the iron grip. 'You want me to tell you if I've seen someone who doesn't look like that?'

'He'd have been odd. Odder than most.' Albert thought for a moment. 'And he'd have drunk a lot, if I know him. He always does.'

'This is Ankh-Morpork, you know.'

'Don't be cheeky, or I'll get angry.'

'You mean you're not angry now?'

'I'm just impatient. You can try for angry if you like.'

'There was… someone… few days ago. Can't remember exactly what he looked like—'

'Ah. That'd be him.'

'Drank me dry, complained about the Barbarian Invaders game, got legless and then…'

'What?'

'Can't recall. We just threw him out.'

'Out the back door?'

'Yes.'

'But that's just river out there.'

'Well, most people come round before they sink.'

SQUEAK, said the Death of Rats.

'Did he say anything?' said Albert, too busy to pay attention.

'Something about remembering everything, I think. He said… he said being drunk didn't make him forget. Kept going on about doorknobs and… hairy sunlight.'

'Hairy sunlight?'

'Something like that.'

And the pressure on Hibiscus's arm was suddenly released. He waited a second or two and then, very cautiously, turned his head.

There was no-one behind him.

Very carefully, Hibiscus bent down to look under the tables.

Albert stepped out into the dawn and, after some fumbling, produced his box. He opened it and glanced at his lifetimer, then snapped the lid shut.

'All right,' he said. 'What next?'

SQUEAK!

'What?'

And someone hit him across the head.

It wasn't a killing stroke. Timo Laziman of the Thieves' Guild knew what happened to thieves who killed people. The Assassins' Guild came and talked briefly to them - in fact, all they said was, 'Goodbye.'

All he'd wanted to do was knock the old man out so that he could rifle his pockets.

He'd not expected the sound as the body hit the ground. It was like the tinkle of broken glass, but with unpleasant overtones that carried on echoing in Timo's ears long after they should have stopped.

Something leapt from the body and whirred into his face. Two skeletal claws grabbed his ears and a bony muzzle jerked forward and hit him hard on the forehead. He screamed and ran for it.

The Death of Rats dropped to the ground again and scurried back to Albert. It patted his face, kicked him frantically a few times and then, in desperation, bit him on the nose.

Then it grabbed Albert's collar and tried to pull him out of the gutter, but there was a warning tinkle of glass.

The eye sockets turned madly towards the Drum's closed front door. Ossified whiskers bristled.

A moment later Hibiscus opened the door, if only to stop the thunderous knocking.

'I said we're—'

Something shot between his legs, paused momentarily to bite him on the ankle, and scuttled towards the