Mort

'Yes.'

She scooped a handful of gravel from the path and began to flick it absent-mindedly into the pool.

'Are my eyebrows that bad?' she said.

'Um,' said Mort, 'afraid so.'

'Oh.' Flick, flick. The carp were watching her disdainfully.

'And my legs?' he said.

'Yes. Sorry.'

Mort shuffled anxiously through his limited repertoire of small talk, and gave up.

'Never mind,' he said gallantly. 'At least you can use tweezers.'

'He's very kind,' said Ysabell, ignoring him, 'in a sort of absent-minded way.'

'He's not exactly your real father, is he?'

'My parents were killed crossing the Great Nef years ago. There was a storm, I think. He found me and brought me here. I don't know why he did it.'

'Perhaps he felt sorry for you?'

'He never feels anything. I don't mean that nastily, you understand. It's just that he's got nothing to feel with, no whatd'youcallits, no glands. He probably thought sorry for me.'

She turned her pale round face towards Mort.

'I won't hear a word against him. He tries to do his best. It's just that he's always got so much to think about.'

'My father was a bit like that. Is, I mean.'

'I expect he's got glands, though.'

'I imagine he has,' said Mort, shifting uneasily. 'Its not something I've ever really thought about, glands.'

They stared side by side at the trout. The trout stared back.

'I've just upset the entire history of the future,' said Mort.

'Yes?'

'You see, when he tried to kill her I killed him, but the thing is, according to the history she should have died and the duke would be king, but the worst bit, the worst bit is that although he's absolutely rotten to the core he'd unite the cities and eventually they'll be a federation and the books say there'll be a hundred years of peace and plenty. I mean, you'd think there'd be a reign of terror or something, but apparently history needs this kind of person sometimes and the princess would just be another monarch. I mean, not bad, quite good really, but just not right and now it's not going to happen and history is flapping around loose and it's all my fault.'

He subsided, anxiously awaiting her reply.

'You were right, you know.'

'I was?'

'We ought to have brought some breadcrumbs,' she said. 'I suppose they find things to eat in the water. Beetles and so on.'

'Did you hear what I said?'

'What about?'