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’
Mort
!
Mort
!
Wake
up
!
’
Mort
surfaced
slowly
,
like
a
corpse
in
a
pond
.
He
fought
against
it
,
clinging
to
his
pillow
and
the
horrors
of
sleep
,
but
someone
was
tugging
urgently
at
his
ear
.
’
Mmmph
?
’
he
said
.
’
Mort
!
’
’
Wsst
?
’
’
Mort
,
it
’
s
father
!
’
He
opened
his
eyes
and
stared
up
blankly
into
Ysabell
’
s
face
.
Then
the
events
of
the
previous
night
hit
him
like
a
sock
full
of
damp
sand
.
Mort
swung
his
legs
out
of
bed
,
still
wreathed
in
the
remains
of
his
dream
.
’
Yeah
,
okay
,
’
he
said
.
’
I
’
’
go
and
see
him
directly
.
’
’
He
’
s
not
here
!
Albert
’
s
going
crazy
!
’
Ysabell
stood
by
the
bed
,
tugging
a
handkerchief
between
her
hands
.
’
Mort
,
do
you
think
something
bad
has
happened
to
him
?
’
