Grey mist coiling up y of escape, so tig even flex under skin,    blink. And noto see but patcid pool.

        t, pain exploding everyoes to brain and back again. t clearing, mobility returning. Nrey patc blurry colors, sloing into focus. A    tered. No, not a    soo young, not the family . . .

        “t like a mouse creeping from a dusty larder.

        “Abhorsen.”

        ted, o rue unsciousness and sanity-rest rest.

        , a a moment’s panic , t back    fres filtering do must be soon after daed,    dizzy and stupid, till    tall masts all around, the unfinished ship nearby.

        “tered to himself, frowning.

        n-ram effect of a severe     certain    been drinking. t teps.

        Rogir    ting image of a pale, ed face, bloodied and bruised, black    in a fringe under . A deep blue surcoat, he Abhorsen.

        “S t voice, interrupting ering recolle. “S up before thing.”

        t seem to belong to anytill t the nearby ship.

        te cat curally sharp, green-eyed gaze.

        “ are you?” said tiously flickering from side to side, looking for a aining a s, trousers and some u ohe rock.

        “Don’t be alarmed,” said t. “I’m but a faitainer of t. For t.”

        t    lift it. Memories o o a mag gave    t-creature was.

        “You ,” esting his guess.

        “?” replied Mogget, yawning.

        “Dear me. I ’t recall it.    he name?”

        A good question, t t remember. erms, but     of as e past. o s in pain and anger.

        “Unusual name,” ented Mogget. “More of a bear’s    grooue?”

        “!” ted. “t’s a fool’s name! how dare—”

        “Is it unfitting?” interrupted Mogget, coolly.

        “You do remember w you’ve done?”

        t t kno sirying to remember his name.

        to bear it.

        “Yes, I remember,” oue. But I shall call you—”

        ried again.

        “You ’t say it,” Mogget said. “A spell tied to tion of—but I ’t say it, nor tell aure of it, or o fix it. You    be able to talk about it eits. Certainly, it ed me.”

        “I see,” replied toue, somberly.    try tell me, whe Kingdom?”

        “No one,” said Mogget.

        “A regency, t is perhaps—”

        “No. Neno ns. No one rules.

        t first, but it deed . . .

        h help.”

        “ do you mean, ‘at first’?” asked toue. “ exactly has happened? here have I been?”

        “ted for one y years,” Mogget announced callously.

        “Anarc ty, tempered by s could do. And you, my boy,    of t two hundred years.”

        “the family?”

        “All dead and past te, save one, who should be. You know who I mean.”

        For a moment, to return toue to ate.    frozen, only t movement of    sinued life. tears started in o meet urned hands.

        Mogget c sympatill ts ween sobs became calmer.

        “t g over it,” t said y of people rying to put tter tury alorying to deal ones and t Abainly isn’t lying around g . Make yourself useful and help her.”

        “ I?” asked toue bleakly, wiping .

        “?” snorted Mogget. “Get dressed, for a start. things aboard here for you as well. Swords and suchlike.”

        “But I’m not fit to wield royal—”

        “Just do as you’re told,” Mogget said firmly.

        “t makes you feel better, t era, you’ll find on sense is more important than honor.”

        “Very ouuttered, humbly.

        ood up and put on t, but couldn’t get trousers past highs.

        “t and leggings in one of ts back    said, after coue rapped in too-tigher.

        toue nodded, divested rousers, and clambered up taking care to keep as far a as possible. he gap.

        “You    tell her?” he asked.

        “tell well w?”

        “Abo    it    iional. My part, I mean. Please, don’t tell her—”

        “Spare me t, in a disgusted tone. “I ’t tell    tell her.

        tion is ory.

        ell you t of our current saga while you dress.”

        Sabriel returned from t ions he blood.

        to reatments. All in all, s about eig normal, raten pert funal, and so    breakfast ot. Not t     ested ter mark on to be unsullied by Free Magic, or neancy.

        Sed to still be asleep, so s a faint frisson of surprise and suspense earby, precariously draped on the ship’s rail.

        Sy tempered by to be rangers.    dressed. Older and someimidating, particularly since o    of gold-striped red, criped gold, disappearing into turned-dos of russet doeskin. , to put on a red leat aco be giving him some problems.

        ter scabbards near , stabbing points s of t e .

        “Curse t ten paces ae deep, but currently frustrated and peaking emper.

        “Good m,” said Sabriel.

        dug to o transform tion into a boing in a dest to one knee.

        “Good m, milady,”    meeting     from top of his curly-haired head.

        “I’m not ‘milady,’” said Sabriel, iquette principles applied to tuation. “My name is Sabriel.”

        “Sabriel? But you are t sound overly brig, ations.

        Pertle versation at breakfast after all.

        “No, my fatern look at Mogget, o interfere. “I’m a sort of stand-in. It’s a bit plicated, so I’ll explain later. ’s your name?”

        ated, t remember, milady. Please, call me . . . call me toue.”

        “toue?” asked Sabriel. t sounded familiar, but s place it for a moment.

        “toue? But t’s a jester’s name, a fool’s name. ?”

        “t’s ion.

        “ell, I o call you sometinued. “toue. You knoradition of a    so bad. I guess you th, of course.”

        “Ioue.    Sabriel’s. Surprisingly, elligent gaze. Perer all, s, as s id Free Magic would s.

        I am curious as to w was used on you.”

        toue looked aain siness, or embarrassment.

        S tio.

        “I don’t remember very well,” he said, slowly.

        “t of attack upon the Queen . . .

        an ambus ttom of tairs.

        I remember figer Magic—    treaow how.”

        Sabriel listened carefully,         a diamond of prote . . . t could , surely ted till it failed. ? And, most importantly, o get placed in t protected of places? Sions for later iigation, for anot ruck     least two hing he knew.

        “You ime,” sly, uain about o break t I mean is it’s been a very long time—”

        “two oue.

        “Your minion told me.”

        “Your family . . .”

        “I , as immobile as t to Sabriel -first.

        “I o fig the Kingdom.”

        Sabriel didn’t take t. But a moment’s t closed o    Mogget, .

        “ old ?” shing her words.

        “tate of the Kingdom, generally speaking,”

        replied t. “Ret events. Our dest y as Abo remedy tuation.”

        “t? S, w may be?”

        “Not specifically,” said Mogget, c he could presume as much.”

        “As you see,” Sabriel said, rat been totally    ierre, so I tle idea about ic. I fae dire enemies, probably uion of one of ter Dead, a neantic adept. And I’m not out to save t to find my fat    to take your oat, particularly as    met. I am o apany us to t approximation of civilization, but I    I er t. And, please remember t my name is Sabriel. Not milady. Not Ab’s time for breakfast.”

        it, salked over to arted getting out some oatmeal and a small cooking pot.

        toue stared after , tta tied to    and o t clump of trees.

        Mogget followed cicks for a fire.

        “Sierre,” said t. “S realize refusing your oat. And it’s true enoug her ignorance.

        t’s one of the reasons she needs your help.”

        “I ’t remember mucoue, snapping a brancy.

        “Except my most ret past. Everyt sure if it’s real or not, learned or imagined. And I    insulted. My oat h much.”

        “But you’ll . It    a question.

        “No,” said toue. “’s all I’m good for.”

        As Sabriel feared, ttle versation over breakfast. Mogget    off in searcoue ook it in turns to eat y, toue ive. Sabriel started asking a lot of questions, but as andard response    remember,” she soon gave up.

        “I don’t suppose you    remember o get    out of tion, after a particularly long stretch of silence.

        Even to    addressing a mist twelve-year-old.

        “No, I’m sorry . . .” toue began automatically, tary spasm of pleasure. “ait! Yes—I do remember! tair, to t remember w is . . .”

        “thern rim,”

        Sabriel mused. “It    be too o find.

        ance?”

        “I’m not sure,” replied toue, guardedly, boo calm t ting bigger and bigger inside y memory—after all, t o magical incarceration.

        But t     seemed to be an affectation. or playing tler—or rat to impersonate a butler as best    w drew me a map,” salking as muco calm ion.

        “But, as ly    Ab two-hundred-year-old memories . . .”

        Sabriel paused, and bit    eful.

        opped speaking, but ion s as ill be carved from wood.

        “ I mean is,” Sabriel tinued carefully, “it e to Belisaere, and tant landmarks and locations on the way.”

        S t of t iive oilskin.

        toue took one end as s, and ones, welescope case.

        “I t rag    from to a point a little nortterlin river delta.

        “No,” said toue, sounding decisive for t time, abbing to t’s only ten leagues from t and at titude as Mount Anarson.”

        “Good!” exclaimed Sabriel, smiling, ’s t route to Belisaere, and    take?”

        “I don’t kno ditions, mi . . .

        Sabriel,” toue replied. er, more subdued. “From    says, tate of anarco. ts, tures . . .”

        “Ign all t,” Sabriel asked, “which way did you normally go?”

        “From ohe fishing village here,”

        toue said, pointing at t to t of    post o Callibe, a rest day terior road up t Pass, six days all told to Aunden. A rest day in Auo Orc o tgate of Belisaere.”

        “Even    t days, t’d be eig least six ’s too long. Is ther way?”

        “A s, from oerrupted Mogget, stalking up beo place .”
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