Mort - bolt

“All right, all right. People could get murdered around here,” said Keli testily, and put the crossbow back on the bedside table without, unfortunately, operating the safety catch.

There was a click, the thwack of sinew against metal, a zip of air, and a groan. The groan came from Cutwell. Mort spun round to him.

“Are you all right?” he said. “Did it hit you?”

“No,” said the wizard, weakly. “No, it didn’t. How do you feel?”

“A bit tired. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. No draughts anywhere? No slight leaking feelings?”

“No. Why?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Cutwell turned and looked closely at the wall behind Mort.

***

Mort p120