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 truction t came roaring 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 seconds before it rounded t 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 stone pedestal, boter marks, marks strange and beautiful.

    t’s instruction, 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 control.

    Sabriel corying 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 controlled roar, like a sing drunk made aware of company. Sabriel ripod and opened her eyes.

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

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

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

    Mogget ime for sucrospection, mourning or pangs of responsibility.   ce, before padding forely inserting .

    “Ow!  did you—”

    “time to e sightseeing,”

    Mogget said. “tern  least half an hour.”

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

    “t everyt, knohem.

    You can get dressed, pack up, and ake it you intend to 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 confused 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 contain the very essence of scorn.

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

    “Come 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 can make a sketching?”

    Mogget coug, and t tle. “You! Drac  ter if I undertook 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 sarcastic meo Mogget o get bet visible means of support.

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

    Smoot both a quill.”

    Sabriel follo’s instructions, tc  rapidly co surprise as t croucrange s like a dark cloak tongue out in concentration. Mogget seemed to t, t ivory cla from a o dra, a rougline, in s, bold strokes; tures; te process of adding important sites, eacing. Last of all, Mogget marked Abration, before leaning back to admire ed a feo be sure  drying sand over trying to absorb every detail, intent on learning the Old Kingdom.

    “You can look at it later,” Mogget said after a fees, ill bent over table, nose incill in a ter go and get 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 ttendance to  everytepped inside before tripped  managed to 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 coming 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 completed t as tion. One raised o be a blue and silver striped turban, but Sabriel, pulling it doo just above  to be a clot, made from terial as the armor.

    t a gleaming, deep blue surcoat, dusted  reflected t in all directions. 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 corner, 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, tunic and trousers, dried beef and biscuits, a er bottle, and several small leatakingly opened and so elescope, sulpcarter, medicinal  and a  of otials. t into oilskin pouco an outside pocket.

    Backpack on, Sabriel tried a feo find t t restrict oo muc 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 forgot,” said Mogget. “You’ll need to come 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 substance. ter 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 understand.”

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