Wintersmith

have died with her eyes shut. Not everyone did. Tiffany hated having to shut them for people; it was like killing them all over again.
    “Miss Treason?” she whispered. That was the first test. There were a lot of them, and you had to do them all: speak to them, raise an arm, check the pulses including the one behind the ear, check for breath with a mirror…and she’d always been so nervous about getting them wrong that the first time she’d had to go out to deal with someone who looked dead—a young man who’d been in a horrible sawmill accident—she’d done every single test, even though she’d had to go and find his head.
    There were no mirrors in Miss Treason’s cottage.
    In that case she—
    —should think! This is Miss Treason here! And I heard her wind her clock up only a few minutes ago!
    She smiled.
    “Miss Treason!” she said, very close to the woman’s ear. “I know you’re in there!”
    And that’s when the morning, which had been sad, weird, odd, and horrible, became…Boffo all the way.
    Miss Treason smiled.
    “Have they gone?” she inquired.
    “Miss Treason!” said Tiffany sternly. “That was a terrible thing to do!”
    “I stopped my clock with my thumbnail,” said Miss Treason proudly. “Couldn’t disappoint them, eh? Had to give ’em a show!”
    “Miss Treason,” said Tiffany severely, “did you make up the story about your clock?”
    “Of course I did! And it’s a wonderful bit of folklore, a real corker. Miss Treason and her clockwork heart! Might even become a myth, if I’m lucky. They’ll remember Miss Treason for thousands of years!”
    Miss Treason closed her eyes again.
    “I’ll certainly remember you, Miss Treason,” said Tiffany. “I will really, because—”
    The world had gone gray, and was getting grayer. And Miss Treason had gone very still.
    “Miss Treason?” said Tiffany, nudging her. “Miss Treason?”
    M ISS E UMENIDES T REASON , AGED ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN ?
    Tiffany heard the voice inside her head. It didn’t seem to have come through her ears. And she’d heard it before, making her quite unusual. Most people hear the voice of Death only once.
    Miss Treason stood up, without the creak of even one bone. And she looked just like Miss Treason, solid and smiling. What now lay on the dead leaves was, in this strange light, just a shadow.
    But a very tall dark figure was standing beside her. It was Death himself. Tiffany had seen him before, in his own land beyond the Dark Door, but you didn’t need to have met him before to know who he was. The scythe, the long hooded robe, and of course the bundle of hourglasses were all clues.
    “Where are your manners, child?” said Miss Treason.
    Tiffany looked up and said: “Good morning.”
    G OOD M ORNING , T IFFANY A CHING , AGED THIRTEEN , said Death in his no-voice. I SEE YOU ARE IN GOOD HEALTH .
    “A little curtsy would be in order too,” said Miss Treason.
    To Death? thought Tiffany. Granny Aching wouldn’t have liked that. Never bend the knee to tyrants, she would say.
    A T LAST , M ISS E UMENIDES T REASON , WE MUST WALK TOGETHER . Death took her gently by the arm.
    “Hey, wait a minute!” said Tiffany. “Miss Treason is one hundred and thirteen!”
    “Er…I adjusted it slightly for professional reasons,” said Miss Treason. “One hundred and eleven sounds so…adolescent.” As if to hide her ghostly embarrassment, she plunged her hand into her pocket and pulled out the spirit of the ham sandwich.
    “Ah, it worked,” she said. “I know I—where has the mustard gone?”
    M USTARD IS ALWAYS TRICKY , said Death as they began to fade.
    “No mustard? What about pickled onions?”
    P ICKLES OF ALL SORTS DON ’ T SEEM TO MAKE IT . I’ M SORRY . Behind them, the outline of a door appeared.
    “No relishes in the next world? That’s dreadful! What about chutneys?” said the vanishing Miss Treason.
    T HERE ’ S JAM . J AM WORKS .
    “Jam? Jam! With ham?”
    And they were gone. The light went back to normal. Sound came back. Time came back.
    Once again the thing to do was not to think too deeply, just keep her thoughts nice and level and focused on what she had to do.
    Watched by the people still hovering around the clearing, Tiffany went and got some blankets, bundling them up so that when she carried them back to the grave, no one would notice that the two Boffo skulls and the spiderweb-making machine were tucked inside. Then with Miss Treason and the secret of Boffo safely