that neither themselves nor anyone dear to themselves had been chose. Lady Torrance gave a little cry of protest, but Lady Neville knew that she would have cried out at whatever choice Death made. She heard herself say calmly, “I am honored. But was there no one more worthy than I?”
“Not one,” said Death. “There is no one quite so weary of being human, no one who knows better how meaningless it is to be alone. And there is no one else here with the power to treat life”—and she smiled sweetly and cruelly—“the life of your hairdresser’s child, for instance, as the meaningless thing it is. Death has a heart, but it is forever an empty heart, and I think, Lady Neville, that your heart is like a dry riverbed, like a seashell. You will be very content as Death, more so than I, for I was very young when I became Death.”
She came toward Lady Neville, light and swaying, her deep eyes wide and full of the light of the red morning sun that was beginning to rise. The guests at the ball moved back from her, although she did not look at them, but Lady Neville clenched her hands tightly and watched Death come toward her with her little dancing steps. “We must kiss each other,” Death said. “That is the way I became death.” She shook her head delightedly, so that her soft hair swirled about her shoulders. “Quickly, quickly,” she said. “Oh, I cannot wait to be human again.”
“You may not like it,” Lady Neville said. She felt very calm, though she could hear her old heart pounding in her chest and feel it in the tips of her fingers. “You may not like it after a while,” she said.
“Perhaps not.” Death’s smile was very close to her now. “I will not be as beautiful as I am, and perhaps people will not love me as much as they do now. But I will be human for a while, and at last I will die. I have done my penance.”
“What penance?” the old woman asked the beautiful girl. “What was it you did? Why did you become Death?”
“I don’t remember,” said the Lady Death. “And you too will forget in time.” She was smaller than Lady Neville, and so much younger. In her white dress she might have been the daughter that Lady Neville had never had, who would have been with her always and held her mother’s head lightly in the crook of her arm when she felt old and sad. Now she lifted her head to kiss Lady Neville’s cheek, and as she did so she whispered in her ear, “You will still be beautiful when I am ugly. Be kind to me then.”
Behind Lady Neville the handsome gentlemen and ladies murmured and sighed, fluttering like moths in their evening dress, in their elegant gowns. “I promise,” she said, and then she pursed her dry lips to kiss the soft, sweet-smelling cheek of the young Lady Death.
CREATURE CONTRIBUTORS
BEAGLE, Peter S. (1939– ) is the author of The Last Unicorn, and more than twenty-five other books, both fiction and nonfiction. He’s also a poet, screenwriter, and songwriter, and the winner of a World Fantasy Award for Lifetime Achievement in 2011.
“Come Lady Death” was first published in 1963.
BOUCHER, Anthony, aka William Anthony Parker White, aka H. H. Holmes, (1911–1968) was a science-fiction author, respected literary critic, and writer of mysteries and short stories. He was also the first English translator of Jorge Luis Borges, the author of numerous radio plays, and a founder of the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
“The Compleat Werewolf” was first published in 1942.
DAVIDSON, Avram (1923–1993) was the author of dozens of short stories and novels. He wrote everything from space opera to science fiction to detective novels, along with a series of alternate history novels about the medieval magician Vergil Magus (derived from Virgil).
“Or All the Seas with Oysters” was first published in 1958.
DELANY, Samuel R. (1942– ) is an author, professor, and critic. He’s written a number of award-winning books in a variety of genres, including science fiction, fantasy, memoir, and criticism, the first (The Jewels of Aptor) published when he was twenty. He is a member of the Science Fiction Hall of Fame.
“Prismatica” was first published in 1977.
GAIMAN, Neil (1960– ) is the author of many novels and short stories, including Coraline and The Graveyard Book, as well as screenplays, graphic novels, songs, and television scripts. He’s the