'You saw it? How far away is it? How fast is it moving?'
'Of course I saw it. I rode through it twice. It was like —'
'But you're not a wizard, so why —'
'What are you doing here, anyway —'
Cutwell took a deep breath. 'Everyone shut up!' he screamed.
There was silence. Then the wizard grabbed Mort's arm. 'Come on,' he said, pulling him back along the corridor. 'I don't know who you are exactly and I hope I've got time to find out one day but something really horrible is going to happen soon and I think you're involved, somehow.'
'Something horrible? When?'
That depends on how far away the interface is and how fast it's moving,' said Cutwell, dragging Mort down a side passage. When they were outside a small oak door he let go of his arm and fumbled in his pocket again, removing a small hard piece of cheese and an unpleasantly squashy tomato.
'Hold these, will you? Thank you.' He delved again, produced a key and unlocked the door.
'It's going to kill the princess, isn't it?' said Mort.
'Yes,' said Cutwell, 'and then again, no.' He paused with his hand on the doorhandle. 'That was pretty perspicacious of you. How did you know?'
'I —' Mort hesitated.
'She told me a very strange story,' said Cutwell.
'I expect she did,' said Mort. 'If it was unbelievable, it was true.'
'You're him, are you? Death's assistant?'
'Yes. Off duty at the moment, though.'
'Pleased to hear it.'
Cutwell shut the door behind them and fumbled for a candlestick. There was a pop, a flash of blue light and a whimper.
'Sorry,' he said, sucking his fingers. 'Fire spell. Never really got the hang of it.'
'You were expecting the dome thing, weren't you?' said Mort urgently. 'What will happen when it closes in?'
The wizard sat down heavily on the remains of a bacon sandwich.
'I'm not exactly sure,' he said. 'It'll be interesting to watch. But not from inside, I'm afraid. What I think will happen is that the last week will never have existed.'
'She'll suddenly die?'
'You don't quite understand. She will have been dead for a week. All this —' he waved his hands vaguely in the air – 'will not have happened. The assassin will have done his job. You will have done yours. History will have healed itself. Everything will be all right. From History's point of view, that is. There really isn't any other.'
Mort stared out of the narrow window. He could see across the courtyard into the glowing streets outside, where a picture of the princess smiled at the sky.
'Tell me about the pictures,' he said. That looks like some sort of wizard thing.'
'I'm not sure if it's working. You see, people were beginning to get upset and they didn't know why, and that made it worse. Their minds were in one reality and their bodies were in another. Very unpleasant. They couldn't get used to the idea that she was still alive. I thought the pictures might be a good idea but, you know, people just don't see what their mind tells them isn't there.'
'I could have told you that,' said Mort bitterly.
'I had the town criers out during the daytime,' Cutwell continued. 'I thought that if people could come to believe in her, then this new reality could become the real one.'
'Mmmph?' said Mort. He turned away from the window. 'What do you mean?'