Kerrigor seemed to    .    cloud of darkness e again, e fire, no dazzling brilliance fighin.

        ill, and Sabriel ’s brief    ion came.

        Kerrig, like a glutton after an overly ambitious meal.

        Sabriel s t, bile tainting    t o be better. Botoue aken alive, a ill t ts yahe reservoir . . .

        S image.

        to be someto be he Old Kingdom . . .

        perer Magic. Sed t a single bell could s? It    falling ttered ed, last    attract ttention. the hall . . .

        Even in darkness, till. Sabriel craps t     ered the hall.

        till men to fig upon.

        on in ter’s business.

        traps came undone. Kerrigor didn’t move, .

        In one quick motion, Sabriel she bells.

        Kerrigor did move tly, aller too, stretcill    reaced ceiling. o full, raging, flaming fury, and he spoke.

        “toys, Aboo late. Mucoo late.”

        It    just    froze Sabriel’s nerves, caug ely, sruggled t t s were locked in place . . .

        tantalizingly sloill oue , enctoirs.

        Someone—a girl quietly coug    breatouc caress. A small spark of golden Cer Magic came from t dying touco Sabriel’s veins, traveling ups, freeing muscles. At last it read    .

        It    true sound it sook t—but it .

        Kerrigor slid back, and le more twice Sabriel’s .

        But    subject to Sabriel’s will.

        Sara bound h had only forced him back.

        Sabriel rang trating on t terpoiion, he would walk where she willed . . .

        And for a sed,    into Deat into he bells faded, Kerrigor ged.

        Fiery eyes and mouto ea o a narroo t ers for a moment, traigo th.

        it scream, Saraars,    craso turo dust, drifting through Sabriel’s fingers like smoke.

        Sabriel stared at y ill feeling t of bell-handles . . .

        t any scious t, t in    before so it, Rogir stood up and looked at    eyes of Kerrigor.

        “An invenience,”    .”

        Sabriel lu e sparks as it struck, punc to project out t Kerrigor only laugill    teel. Sabriel tugged at t it    e free.

        “No s no ruled before ter,    po made t no, my he breaking!”

        , and pulled to , till t    ried to let go, but oo quick, one ccibly, Kerrigor drew owards him.

        “ill you sleep, unknoill t Stones are ready for your blood?” ep of the way?”

        Sabriel stared back, meeting    time. Surely, test spark of blazing , a expanding? “    his magically preserved flesh.

        “Your lover craoic sig I s kiss . . .”

        t    sill feel tal expanding . . .

        Kerrigor’s blistered lips moved to sur sed, a, dry, corpse-like flesh slide across her cheek.

        “A sisterly kiss,” cly before—but it is not enough . . .”

        Again,    just    a frip    back to face , as if in passionate expectation.

        But    arm was free.

        Kerrigor’s    forhe ring was around his neck.

        Sabriel felt t back, trying to    Kerrigor didn’t let go of    not anxious.     up to touc tips.

        “ is this? Some relic of . . .”

        tricted, cutting t too ing as it tried to escape. two flaming eyes looked down in disbelief.

        “Impossible,” croaked Kerrigor. Snarling, o the floor.

        In tion , th a sound like a rasp on hardwood.

        Sly as a snake, arm and s out, striking to the wooden floor beyond.

        Pain exploded, and Sabriel screamed, body vulsing around the blade in one awful reflexive curve.

        Kerrigor left ion, and advanced upon toue.

        Sabriel, ter from one of the pews.

        “Rogir,” toue said. “Rogir . . .”

        ter came dled so a world of her own, a world of pain.

        S t of omaooue dead—s lay    bleed.

        t felt toue die.

        Ser . Kerrigor er—but to    fell, like an apple corer punc out of tting corpse.

        Kerrigor struggled and s to side, seeking to cast off t    more fleso fall aill no fles a raging n of darkness, strained by a silver ring.

        tself like a demoliso bee a mound of rippling s t t o matcal.

        ter marks on t Sabriel couldn’t read t focus, and it oo dark. t    seemed to ill, s must be done. Sarao t t t Sabriel, careless— but I must plete t, and almost dre—but no, t .

        Ra against    for a moment, gatrengtransfixed he bell.

        Ranna sounded s, a f, like a long-expected bed. t, to tled    ceased truggles, and lay themselves down.

        to Deat fell into a healing sleep.

        t    into tinct orial ring of silver. One e.

        Gradually, ted into tins— ts, joi t like Siamese twins.

        t i texture till ting a miniature bell, a miniature Ranna.

        ts sat side by side. One black, one s moving, and eac up a silver ring. ts yao to sleep.

        toue c, silver flas. t Sabriel’s side, but s pick till clutc it , resting beloing the moonshadow of a cross upon her face.

        Sometoue’s mind. A voice, a messenger’s voice, speaking to her.

        “idings. the Abhorsen is dead.”

        Epilogue Deat, and wondered will sill lying down.

        In ter, being carried along by t.

        For a moment, sarted tle, then she relaxed.

        “Everyone and everytime to die . . .”

        ss cares seemed far aoue lived, and t made hing.

        Kerrigor ed, imprisoned if not made truly dead. e, a forever . . .

        Somet of ter a .

        “t your time,” said a voice, a voice echers.

        Sabriel blinked, for ter. More t. Not Dead spirits, but somet. t instantly reizable, for all he silver keys. Every one was an Abhorsen.

        “Go back,” they chorused. “Go back.”

        “I ’t,” sobbed Sabriel. “I’m dead! I    trength . . .”

        “You are t Ab pass til trengthin you. Live, Abhorsen, live . . .”

        Suddenly, srengto crao Life,    dropping back at t. One of tly tout before s th behind.

        A face so vieoue’s, staring do    ant, raucous bells t seemed out of place, till so magic, Free or Cer. But ty miles from the all . . .

        “Live, Sabriel, live,” toue tering, ears    noticed hers opening.

        Sabriel smiled, to side, ake toue to realize.

        tric ligs of terns out agaiending to t and grave mold.

        t side on teps; Magistrix Green he soldiers . . .

        o clions, to ts, t to he floor.

        “Sabriel!”

        toue iced. Sabriel turned o ed iously.

        a . typically, toue hing for his own leg.

        “Sabriel,” he said again. “You’re alive!”

        “Yes,” said Sabriel, h some surprise. “I am.”

        e: ting a Book Gartes on    to tBound e-book edition of Sabriel t ing a book,    from many oters and different to to !,” tion to ing.

        to me, tages to ing a book, t times, or even take over for far les are: ting, and revising. tage, t runs currently aying motivated.

        t of my books seem to stem from a single image or t t lodges in my brain and sloo somet o be expressed.

        t t may be a “ and sno. Many ots, scious or ot, upon, and over t single image, boting of the book.

        typically I seem to t a book for a year or so before I actually start ing. In tage, I often e a fes in my “ideas”

        notebook. At tage, I merely put do points or mnemonics t er on, particularly if tation period for a book is several years. titles are also o jot do title    be very useful as the book    grow.

        Planning For all my longer e cer outlines so I    ing from ter on. Actually, ing a cer outline is a great discipline for t tory and it also provides a road map or tral skeleton you    e back to if you get lost. I ofteial cer first to get tus for toing aline.

        Usually, I o e a revised cer outliimes in ting t once again it does focus tory is going and    to go.

        riting    S stories, articles, and items on my e I type straigo ter (mostly a Matos ord. e t.

        Noerman fountain pen (for S-tips earlier. I erested to see t Stepe one of    novels erman fountain pen. edly found t tual style of the book.

        tages of ing lo for me. First of all, I e iively small ebooks able t of puter, particularly since you    take t o sider poteries, or printouts. Parts of Sabriel, for example, ten on a trip t. Parts of Sten at the beach.

        tage of ing long ebook, I ree as I type, so t printout is actually a sed draft. Sometimes I c quite a lot, sometimes not so muc it gives me a distinctive and separate stage where I    revise.

        t page of t cer of Sabriel (as opposed to te earlier, before I did my cer outline) ually -    ten in a spiral-bound notebook,    and pasted into my preferred blad red notebook ( /” x    /” or mm x mm “sewn memo book”).

        At typing stage, I ed up ting a bit and it er, but in t least, it stayed muc page and pare it to te.

        o revising.

        Revising As I said, ten    my first major stage of revision.

        o go t least tages after t. t of t print out typed cer. I go t and make ce later. tage (and sometimes a time as    is finis time. I leave t big, beautiful pile of printout on t doions as I go.

        Finally, I buo my Australian and U.S. publis for tion(s),    f. Sometimes    times t, and I argue about to alter text. Basically, I try and keep an open mind, si.

        Staying Motivated I’m often asked by aspiring ers    a year or more in ing a full-length novel.

        My stos I never sit doo e a oday.” I sit doo e a cer,” or “revise a cer,”

        or “finiser.” t ’s only ever ,-,    are te goal.

        As a furtivational gimmick, I al utility e t dootal of e in t of my first notebook for t hose red and blaumbers).

        I also e doening to as I e and anyt migeresting to look back upon. Like t t I uploaded my first    is a relatively small t it , particularly as    more and more cers appear and total gro very encing, particularly in t to take ty of time.

        Summary    sum up my ing p remember e, revise” one is from Robert    e if you don’t read.”

        “Just e o a time and one day you’ll be surprised by your own finished novel.”

        “riting a ing somet.”

        “Read, e, revise, submit, repeat.”

        “Expect reje, but don’t let it stop you submitting again.”

        “Submit t    t draft. Al again before you send it.”

        About tralia. After taking ing from ty of berra, o try, steadily devolving from sales rep t, until in    or inational publiser a period traveling iern Europe, t, and Asia in ,    publiso ing unications sultant. In , o to bee a part-time literary agent. e walk from Coogee Beacs of books.

        Garther books, Sabriel, Lirael, and Shade’s Chldren.
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