The Colour of Magic   ::   Пратчетт Терри

I have tasks enough this day , said Death in a voice as heavy as neutronium, the white plague abides even now in Pseudopolis and I am bound there to rescue many of its citizens from his grasp. Such a one has not been seen these hundred years. I am expected to stalk the streets, as is my duty.

“I refer to the matter of the little wanderer and the rogue wizard,” said Fate softly, seating himself beside Death’s black-robed form and staring down at the,distant, multifaceted jewel which was the Disc universe as seen from this extra-dimensional vantage point.

The scythe ceased its song.

“They die in a few hours,” said Fate. “It is fated.”

Death stirred, and the stone began to move again.

“I thought you would be pleased,” said Fate.

Death shrugged, a particularly expressive gesture for someone whose visible shape was that of a skeleton.

I did indeed chase them mightily. Once , he said, but at last the thought came to me that sooner or later all men must die.Everything dies in the end. I can be robbed but never denied, I told myself. Why worry?

“I too cannot be cheated,” snapped Fate.

So I have heard , said Death, still grinning.

“Enough!” shouted Fate, jumping to his feet. “They will die!” He vanished in a sheet of blue fire.

Death nodded to Himself and continued at His work. After some minutes the edge of the blade seemed to be finished to His satisfaction. He stood up and levelled the scythe at the fat and noisome candle that burned on the edge of the bench and then, with two deft sweeps, cut the flame into three bright slivers. Death grinned.

A short while later he was saddling his white stallion, which lived in a stable at the back of Death’s cottage. The beast snuffled at him in a friendly fashion; though it was crimson-eyed and had flanks like oiled silk, it was nevertheless a real flesh-and-blood horse and, indeed, was in all probability better treated than most beasts of burden on the Disc. Death was not an unkind master. He weighed very little and, although He often rode back with His saddlebags bulging, they weighed nothing whatsoever.

“All those worlds!” said Twoflower. “It’s fantastic!”

Rincewind grunted, and continued to prowl warily around the star-filled room. Twoflower turned to a complicated astrolabe, in the centre of which was the entire Great A’Tuin-Elephant-Disc system wrought in brass and picked out with tiny jewels. Around it stars and planets wheeled on fine silver wires.

“Fantastic!” he said again.