Reaper Man (Discworld 11) - Page 8

In the warm, horsey gloom of the stable, Death’s pale horse looked up from its oats and gave a little whinny of greeting. The horse’s name was Binky. He was a real horse. Death had tried fiery steeds and skeletal horses in the past, and found them impractical, especially the fiery ones, which tended to set light to their own bedding and stand in the middle of it looking embarrassed.

Death took the saddle down from its hook and glanced at Albert, who was suffering a crisis of conscience.

Thousands of years before, Albert had opted to serve Death rather than die. He wasn’t exactly immortal. Real time was forbidden in Death’s realm. There was only the ever-changing now, but it went on for a very long time. He had less than two months of real time left; he hoarded his days like bars of gold.

“I, er…” he began. “That is—”

YOU FEAR TO DIE?

“It’s not that I don’t want…I mean, I’ve always…it’s just that life is a habit that’s hard to break…”

Death watched him curiously, as one might watch a beetle that had landed on its back and couldn’t turn over.

Finally Albert lapsed into silence.

I UNDERSTAND, said Death, unhooking Binky’s bridle.

“But you don’t seem worried! You’re really going to die?”

YES. IT WILL BE A GREAT ADVENTURE.

“It will? You’re not afraid?”

I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO BE AFRAID.

“I could show you, if you like,” Albert ventured.

NO. I SHOULD LIKE TO LEARN BY MYSELF. I SHALL HAVE EXPERIENCES. AT LAST.

“Master…if you go, will there be—?”

A NEW DEATH WILL ARISE FROM THE MINDS OF THE LIVING, ALBERT.

“Oh.” Albert looked relieved. “You don’t happen to know what he’ll be like, do you?”

NO.

“Perhaps I’d better, you know, clean the place up a bit, get an inventory prepared, that sort of thing?”

GOOD IDEA, said Death, as kindly as possible. WHEN I SEE THE NEW DEATH, I SHALL HEARTILY RECOMMEND YOU.

“Oh. You’ll see him, then?”

OH, YES. AND I MUST LEAVE NOW.

“What, so soon?”

CERTAINLY. MUSTN’T WASTE TIME! Death adjusted the saddle, and then turned and held the tiny hourglass proudly in front of Albert’s hooked nose.

SEE! I HAVE TIME. AT LAST, I HAVE TIME!

Albert backed away nervously.

“And now that you have it, what are you going to do with it?” he said.

Death mounted his horse.

I AM GOING TO SPEND IT.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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