Mort

'Over to you,' Albert sneered. The sooner you get started, the sooner you'll be finished. I'll bring Binky round to the front door.'

'Do my eyes look all right to you?' said Mort, anxiously.

'Nothing wrong with them that I can see,' said Albert. 'Bit red round the edges, bit bluer than usual, nothing special.'

Mort followed him back past the long shelves of glass, looking thoughtful. Ysabell watched him take the sword from the rack by the door and test its edge by swishing it through the air, just as Death did, and grinning mirthlessly at the satisfactory sound of the thunderclap.

She recognized the walk. He was stalking.

'Mort?' she whispered.

YES?

'Something's happening to you.'

I KNOW, said Mort. 'But I think I can control it.'

They heard the sound of hooves outside, and Albert pushed the door open and came in rubbing his hands.

'Right, lad, no time to —'

Mort swung the sword at arm's length. It scythed through the air with a noise like ripping silk and buried itself in the doorpost by Albert's ear.

ON YOUR KNEES, ALBERTO MALICH.

Albert's mouth dropped open. His eyes rolled sideways to the shimmering blade a few inches from his head, and then narrowed to tight little lines.

'You surely wouldn't dare, boy,' he said.

MORT. The syllable snapped out as fast as a whiplash and twice as vicious.

There was a pact,' said Albert, but there was the barest gnat-song of doubt in his voice. 'There was an agreement.'

'Not with me.'

'There was an agreement! Where would we be if we could not honour an agreement?'

'I don't know where I would be,' said Mort softly. BUT I KNOW WHERE YOU WOULD GO.

That's not fair!' Now it was a whine.

THERE'S NO JUSTICE. THERE'S JUST ME.

'Stop it,' said Ysabell. 'Mort, you're being silly. You can't kill anyone here. Anyway, you don't really want to kill Albert.'

'Not here. But I could send him back to the world.'

Albert went pale.

'You wouldn't!'

'No? I can take you back and leave you there. I shouldn't think you've got much time left, have you?' HAVE YOU?

'Don't talk like that,' said Albert, quite failing to meet his gaze. 'You sound like the master when you talk like that.'

'I could be a lot worse than the master,' said Mort evenly. 'Ysabell, go and get Albert's book,