'Two thousand years?'
'Not a day over sixty-seven.'
'The books said —'
'I told you, time doesn't apply here. Not real time. Don't you listen, boy?'
'Mort,' said Mort.
'And stop treading on my fingers, I'm going as fast as I can.'
'Sorry.'
'And don't act so wet. Have you any idea how boring it is living here?'
'Probably not,' said Mort, adding with genuine longing, 'I've heard about boredom but I've never had a chance to try it.'
'It's dreadful.'
'If it comes to that, excitement isn't all it's cracked up to be.'
'Anything's got to be better than this.'
There was a groan from below, and then a stream of swearwords.
Ysabell peered into the gloom.
'Obviously I didn't damage his cursing muscles,' she said. 'I don't think I ought to listen to words like that. It could be bad for my moral fibre.'
They found Albert slumped against the foot of the bookshelf, muttering and holding his arm.
'There's no need to make that kind of fuss,' said Ysabell briskly. 'You're not hurt; father simply doesn't allow that kind of thing to happen.'
'What did you have to go and do that for?' he moaned. 'I didn't mean any harm.'
'You were going to push us off,' said Mort, trying to help him up. 'I read it. I'm surprised you didn't use magic.'
Albert glared at him.
'Oh, so you've found out, have you?' he said quietly. Then much good may it do you. You've no right to go prying.'
He struggled to his feet, shook off Mort's hand, and stumbled back along the hushed shelves.
'No, wait,' said Mort, 'I need your help!'
'Well, of course,' said Albert over his shoulder. 'It stands to reason, doesn't it? You thought, I'll just go and pry into someone's private life and then I'll drop it on him and then I'll ask him to help me.'
'I only wanted to find out if you were really you,' said Mort, running after him.
'I am. Everyone is.'
'But if you don't help me something terrible will happen! There's this princess, and she —'
Terrible things happen all the time, boy —'
'— Mort —'
'— and no-one expects me to do anything about it.'