Mort

'Possibly.'

HOW IS THIS FUN MANIFEST?

'Well, it — look, either you're having fun or you're not, you don't have to ask me, you just know, all right? How did you get in here, anyway?' he added. 'Are you a friend of the Patrician?'

LET US SAY, HE PUTS BUSINESS MY WAY. I FELT I OUGHT TO LEARN SOMETHING OF HUMAN PLEASURES.

'Sounds like you've got a long way to go.'

I KNOW. PLEASE EXCUSE MY LAMENTABLE IGNORANCE. I WISH ONLY TO LEARN. ALL THESE PEOPLE, PLEASE — THEY ARE HAVING FUN?

'Yes!'

THEN THIS IS FUN.

'I'm glad we've got that sorted out. Mind the chair,' snapped Lord Rodley, who was now feeling very unfunny and unpleasantly sober.

A voice behind him said quietly: THIS IS FUN. TO DRINK EXCESSIVELY IS FUN. WE ARE HAVING FUN. HE IS HAVING FUN. THIS IS SOME FUN. WHAT FUN.

Behind Death the Patrician's small pet swamp dragon held on grimly to the bony hips and thought: guards or no guards, next time we pass an open window I'm going to run like buggery.

Keli sat bolt upright in bed.

'Don't move another step,' she said. 'Guards!'

'We couldn't stop him,' said the first guard, poking his head shame-facedly around the doorpost.

'He just pushed in . . .' said the other guard, from the other side of the doorway.

'And the wizard said it was all right, and we were told everyone must listen to him because…

'All right, all right. People could get murdered around here,' said Keli testily, and put the crossbow back on the bedside table without, unfortunately, operating the safety catch.

There was a click, the thwack of sinew against metal, a zip of air, and a groan. The groan came from Cutwell. Mort spun round to him.

'Are you all right?' he said. 'Did it hit you?'

'No,' said the wizard, weakly. 'No, it didn't. How do you feel?'

'A bit tired. Why?'

'Oh, nothing. Nothing. No draughts anywhere? No slight leaking feelings?'

'No. Why?'

'Oh, nothing, nothing.' Cutwell turned and looked closely at the wall behind Mort.

'Aren't the dead allowed any peace?' said Keli bitterly. 'I thought one thing you could be sure of when you were dead was a good night's sleep.' She looked as though she had been crying. With an insight that surprised him, Mort realized that she knew this, and that it was making her even angrier than before.

That's not really fair,' he said. 'I've come to help. Isn't that right, Cutwell?'

'Hmm?' said Cutwell, who had found the crossbow bolt buried in the plaster and was looking at it with deep suspicion. 'Oh, yes. He has. It won't work, though. Excuse me, has anyone got any string?'

'Help?' snapped Keli. 'Help? If it wasn't for you —'