“Beg pardon, sir,” said ting at to ty officer’s pliments and    you e straight away?”

        el    doerrupted s m, and ried several times during to finis was a sign ache.

        “’s happening?” he asked, resignedly.

        ever o be good.

        “An aircraft, sir,” replied te, stolidly.

        “From Army hQ? Dropping a message der?”

        “I don’t kno’s on the all.”

        “!” exclaimed    and stempting to rus, all at time.

        “Impossible!”

        But, ed    and got doo tion Post—an octagonal strongpoint t t out ter to y yards of t quite clearly    ernoon    o setting on t ty    tant airborne s he Old Kingdom.

        ty Officer cillery spotter’s binoculars,    of tion.

        to tarrison—tapped he shoulder.

        “Jorbert. Mind if I have a look?”

        tantly, and en lollipop.

        “It’s definitely an aircraft, sir,” ening up as otally silent, like a glider, but it’s clearly poed, too. t, sir.”

        ans took up tance. For a moment,    see t, and ily panned left and rig ed, almost in a landing approach.

        “Sound stand-to,” ion struck    t o t—pere.

        ed by Jorbert to a sergeant, and t, to be taken up by sentries, duty NCOs, aually to     of the Officer’s Mess.

        It ly , till    to t distance. Sabriel, ter of Ab, o stand-do s clattering on ts and corporals sing—and it mig really be Sabriel. t    of the full moon . . .

        “Jorbert!” o tern.

        “Go and give tal Sergeant-Major my pliments, and ask o personally anize a se of ts— and take a closer look at t aircraft.”

        “Oenant Jorbert, obviously taking to include    least for a moment.

        “tell me, Mr. Jorbert,”    a trao the Flying Corps?”

        “ell, yes, sir,” replied Jorbert. “Eigimes . . .”

        “Just remember,” errupting     ture, not a flying macs pilots may be ted t s    all. Not felloors, knig.”

        Jorbert nodded, unmilitarily, saluted, and turned on his heel.

        “And don’t fet your s time you’re on duty, officer,” er him.

        “ aold you your rev work?”

        Jorbert nodded again, flus saluted, ttled off doion tren Post, a corporal ing ty years’ service, and a Cer mark on o ser pedigree, s ting back of the young officer.

        “errupted sentially dangerous appearance of an aircraft.

        “ater on to issue a s as tarily inco a smile. Before ually laug t, o tren    o go beyond the all.

        it his smile.

        to a perfect landing in a flurry of snooue sat in it, s cloak, respectively, t to stand knee-deep in tightly packed snow.

        toue smiled at Sabriel,    red and eyebroed.

        “e made it.”

        “So far,” replied Sabriel, ierran side.    tone, and it ,    gone. Dark enougo be wandering around.

        toue’s smile faded as    ook    so Sabriel. S, but it —another reminder of loss.

        “I’d better get too,” so retrieve t. touc t.

        out, s    sno. Beads of dark, t of its cover. Silently, Sabriel    on t of tucked ts of .

        “?” asked toue, trying, and almost succeeding, to sound curious rathan afraid.

        “I t’s reag to t potential o rise. t—”

        “Soue interrupted ing to tended lio a deliberate, steady pace. t least, reized their backs.

        “It’s all rig stab of nervousouacierran side—still, I migs way . . .”

        Quickly, s take, t above its t seemed to look up at her as she spoke.

        “Go no    to risk you being dragged into Aierre and taken apart.

        Fly o, to Aber falls.”

        Sepped back, and formed ter marks t o lift it t into le, and tg along till it leapt into t t note.

        “I say!” exclaimed a voice. “?”

        Sabriel turo see a young, out-of-breatierran officer, tenant looking lonely on raps.

        y yards in front of t of t    seem frigcepped forward.

        “! You are my prisoners!”

        “Actually, ravelers,” replied Sabriel, tand still. “Is t el horyse I    see behind you?”

        Jorbert turned o ake, and turned back just in time to see Sabriel and toue smiling, t-and-out laugc eacher’s arms.

        “’s so funny?” demanded Lieutenant Jorbert, as till tears ran doheir cheeks.

        “N to o encircle Sabriel and toue, estiisfied, ly sill topped ter.

        to t an arm around eaco t, toierre and sunshine.

        Jorbert, left to cover tly asked t was so funny?”

        “You al Sergeant-Major taion, t , two, mark my words.”

        t only RSMs    pletely h a judicious, and long delayed “Sir.”

        t bla as tepped out of to tive    of an Aierran autumn. S toue falter at umble, aring blindly upo the sun.

        “You botone    someto eat, or    some sleep first?”

        “Someto eat, certainly,” Sabriel replied, trying to give eful smile. “But not sleep. time for t. tell me—wwo days ago?”

        ser.

        S time . . .

        “It’s tonight,” he said.

        “But I’ve been in t least sixteen days . . .”

        “time is strahe kingdoms,”

        rols s for ter eiger . . .”

        “t voice, ing from the pole,”

        toue interrupted, as t to a narroion trencer Magi the voice . . .”

        “Ao ’s ricity runs t, Mr.

        toue. Sot magic.”

        “It    be onigly. “No teology will be.”

        “Yes, it is ratrong voice. More softly,    say anytill    to my dugout. t tonighe full moon . . .”

        “Of course,” replied Sabriel, wearily. “I’m sorry.”

        t of tion treng trend-to positions. tions stopped as t resumed as soon as tur zig    and    of sight.

        At last, teps into el . ts stood guard outside—time, Cer Mages from t Scouts, not try. Anoto to fetc-burner, and made tea.

        Sabriel drank it    feeling much relief.

        Aierre, and ter of its society—tea—no longer seemed as solid and dependable as s.

        “Noo sleep.”

        “My faterday,” Sabriel said, stony-faced. “tes onight.

        At moohe moon.”

        “I’m sorry to    your fatated, t as you are    you bind the Dead anew?”

        “If t inued.

        “But to e. he name Kerrigor, el?”

        ea down.

        “Your fater Dead, I te?”

        “More ter, possibly t,”

        Sabriel said bleakly. “As far as I knoo also be a Free Magic adept.”

        “And a renegade member of the royal family,”

        added toue, ill , unquencea. “And he is no longer imprisoned. he walks in Life.”

        “All tinued.

        “But too.

        Kerrigor’s mastery of Free Magid mu tinual existence of , long ago, —and    in Aierre. o be exact.”

        “And noc . . .” said    errible presce. Outwardly, aining his feelings.

        Inrembling t    being transmitted to the mug in his hand.

        “hen will he e?”

        “it,” replied Sabriel. “it of Deato the all, he may e earlier.”

        ‘‘the sun—” horyse began.

        “Kerrigor    her, bring fog or dense cloud.”

        “So owards Sabriel, ioning. “Abhorsen.”

        Sabriel felt a    already pressed upon    so answer.

        “Kerrigor’s body is in a spelled sarcopop a little , less ty miles ao get troy the body.”

        “And t roy Kerrigor?”

        ‘‘No,” said Sabriel, sfully.

        “But it will weaken here may be a ce . . .”

        “Rigill got t, but o move quickly. I take it t Kerrigor and his . . .

        forces . . .    just pop out at Docky Point?”

        “No,” agreed Sabriel. “to emerge in Life in t    not to try and stop him.”

        “I’m afraid    do t.” replied horyse.

        “t’s er Garrison is here for.”

        “A lot of your soldiers o no purpose toue. “Simply because t gets in Kerrigor’s royed.”

        “So you    us to just let tierre?”

        “ly,” replied Sabriel. “I o fig a time and a place more of our cer mark, and a little Cer Magic, o destroy Kerrigor’s body. Also,    tyfive miles from tly lessened, but many of     destroying or damaging t to send to Death.”

        “And t of t stand aside a Kerrigor and er?”

        “You probably    have a choice.”

        “I see,” muttered    up, and paced backeps, all t unately, or unfortunately perly ag as ter.

        General Asurned souto . . . aemporary situation only—Army o give any sort of o ter mark. So the decision is mine . . .”

        opped pag, and stared back at Sabriel and toue—but o see somety cated iron t . Finally, he spoke.

        “Very s—but I ac to escort you to . . . ? Docky Point. But I ’t promise    figer.”

        “e need you, too, el,” Sabriel said, in t folle the Garrison has.”

        “Impossible!” ically.

        “I’m in and of ter. My responsibilities lie here.”

        “You’ll never be able to explain tonight, anyway,”

        Sabriel said. “Not to any general doo anyone he all.”

        “I’ll . . . I’ll t it ,” tle of a tray and plates tactfully announg teps. “e in!”

        tered, steam rising around t tray do past him, bellowing.

        “Messenger! I    tant, Major tindall a Aire from ts, termaster. In tions Room in ten minutes. Oransport Officer too. And aff to stand by for g.”
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