ters tering against t boxes like storm-borne icebergs ramming anctered, ered; a regular drumming t beat out a     folloriding ice.

        Dead    mercy, desperate to escape tru t came r dohe river.

        Sabriel, co t breater instead of air. Some of t least to ternal bondage. Most he Dead.

        t of tly after ting as it came, a erfall. Sabriel    for several seds before it rou bend of t    upon ical er, s crest like marble battlements and all t in its muddy body. It looked enormous, far taller taller even to t before.

        It had been a simple enough summoning.

        Mogget aken o tair, t grerange grotto,    it . A block of pure, blue-ood upon a stoal, boter marks, marks strange aiful.

        t’s instru, ss to ts t of er.” t airs, a sending locked t Sabriel a nig and a cup of    ce.

        But t simple ceremony    seemed totally out of trol.

        Sabriel c to calm     as quickly as omach flipped over.

        Just as t, selescope.

        toerfall    in a crack t sounded as if t she wave.

        But, after a feopped    so a trolled roar, like a sing drunk made aware of pany. Sabriel ripod and opened her eyes.

        t, till raged a mere    up to tunnel doors oher bank.

        tepping-sto a , carrying debris of all descriptions. trees, buss of buildings, livestock, cs tribute from every riverbank for hundreds of miles.

        Sabriel looked at tru and i, or liveliened, upstream? Part of ried to rationalize elling    so do it in order to fig t said so save herself.

        Mogget ime for sucrospe or pangs of responsibility.     ce, before padding forely iing .

        “Ow!    did you—”

        “time to e sightseeing,”

        Mogget said. “ter half an hour.”

        “I’ve got all . . .” Sabriel began, t    ttom end of traunnel, probably as a pile of Mordit-burned ash.

        “t everyt, knohem.

        You    get dressed, pack up, and ake it you io go to Belisaere?”

        “Yes,” replied Sabriel sly. Sect a tone of smugness in Mogget’s voice.

        “Do you kno there?”

        Sabriel . Mogget already knehe smugness.

        “Do you have a . . . er . . . map?”

        Sabriel ss as sing to lean for, or perail a    judicious tug. Sudy and asked several of t to be tarmap in toold    must still be , suddenly fused about tities. If soo once     in ty of being Ab ain and solid in    even knoo beset    of Ab seemed to provide more trouble than service.

        “Do you ive to say—anyt migually help?” she snapped.

        Mogget ya seemed to tain the very essence of s.

        “ell, yes. Of course. I knoter e h you.”

        “e s, bent doc’s ears, till he ducked away.

        “Someone o look after you,” Mogget    added. “At least till you’ve groo a real Abhorsen.”

        “t I ill like a map. Since you knory so    be possible for you to—I don’t kno, so I    make a sketg?”

        Mogget coug, and t tle. “You! Drac    ter if I uook tograpo tudy and put out an inkwell and paper.”

        “As long as I get a useable map I don’t care ilted o c came do trapdoor. A sarcastiogget o get bet visible means of support.

        “Ink and paper,” t reminded o thick paper.

        Smoot both a quill.”

        Sabriel follo’s instrus, tc    rapidly co surprise as t cre s like a dark cloak to in tration. Mogget seemed to t, t ivory cla from a o dra, a rougline, in s, bold strokes; tures; te process of adding important sites, eag. Last of all, Mogget marked Abration, before leaning baire ed a feo be sure    drying sand over trying to absorb every detail, i on learning the Old Kingdom.

        “You    look at it later,” Mogget said after a fees, ill bent over table, nose incill in a ter go a dressed, for a start. Do try to be quick.”

        “I ill looking at t.”

        t a great pile of clot in Sabriel’s room, and four of ttendao    everytepped inside before tripped    mao remove ly Cer-traced ickled her sides.

        A feer, ston-like undergarment over    came a linen s, tunic of doeskin and breec of ed plates at t to mention a tom, no doubt designed for riding.

        A brief respite folloo t mig, but t layer for immediate fitting. to a long, armored coat t buckled up at ted.

        t    like anyting Arts lessons at sc s ing doo ailed at s, but it seemed to be entirely made of tiny overlapping plates, muc metal, eit some sort of ceramic, or even stone. Mucer teel, but clearly very strong, as one sending demonstrated, by cutting do riking sparks    leaving a scratch.

        Sabriel t ts pleted t as tion. One raised o be a blue and silver striped turban, but Sabriel, pulling it doo just above    to be a ade from terial as the armor.

        t a gleaming, deep blue surcoat, dusted    reflected t in all dires. It    to and fro for a moment, t over Sabriel’s ed ticed motion. Sabriel ran s silken expanse and discreetly tried to rip    it in one er, but, for all its apparent fragility, it    tear.

        Last of all came s and bell-bandolier.

        t to    made no attempt to put ted t—bells across    and so t ion, botroubled by , professional, a traveler ime, sal letter and all.

        S tugged at ed tention to t and, as Sabriel c s, tunid trousers, dried beef and biscuits, a er bottle, and several small leatakingly opened and so elescope, sulpcarter, medial    and a    of otials. t into oilskin pou outside pocket.

        Backpa, Sabriel tried a feo find t t restriuc all in fact, t someto . Soucoes, so simes, before straigo the sendings.

        tead, t, stalking mysteriously towards he room.

        “ell, I’m ready,” Sabriel said.

        Mogget didn’t ans sat at , and made a movement t looked very muco be sick. Sabriel recoiled, disgusted, ted, as a small metallic object fell from Mogget’s mouthe floor.

        “Almost fot,” said Mogget. “You’ll o e h you.”

        “ is it?” asked Sabriel, bending doo pick up a ring; a small silver ring,    gre of the band.

        “Old,” replied Mogget, enigmatically. “You’ll    knoo use it. Put it on.”

        Sabriel looked at it closely,    bet to. It felt, and looked, quite ordinary. ter marks on tone or band; it seemed to ions or aura. S it on.

        It felt cold as it slipped doy, into a void t , all substaer marks suddenly exploded all around    gripped by ting o noting o o th.

        “Free Magic,” Sabriel said, looking do ted to ter. I don’t uand.”

        “You’ll knoo use it,” Mogget repeated, almost as if it o be learned by rote. t    it till the Paperwing is ready.”
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