It’s beautiful,” said Mort softly. “What is it?” THE SUN IS UNDER THE DISC, said Death. “Is it like this every night?” EVERY NIGHT, said Death. NATURE’S LIKE THAT. “Doesn’t anyone know?” ME. YOU. THE GODS. GOOD, ISN’T IT? “Gosh!” Death leaned over the saddle and looked down at the kingdoms of the world. I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, he said, BUT I COULD MURDER A CURRY.