chapter xii

类别:文学名著 作者:加斯·尼克斯 本章:chapter xii

    Sabriel regained consciousness sloo , but t only caug as sruggled to sit up. For t, sigill memory came. It tom of a sink, circular s bored into ture or artifice. From  as t y yards in diameter and a  e its murky dept starlig.

    Pain came next,  no serious injury.

    Sabriel , but everyto work.

    S fe—Mogget, or te force, slo before t—but tual instant of t never  remember it. S to ract  like she was diagnosing someone else.

    t came some time later, and  tion t s  again. it a little sc breeze to carry  of tal doldrums. orking by toucrapped  be state, even a simple Cer-spell for lig of tion, but tcer.

    As tc sank. In t, s only tral cockpit portion of tion. Its orn and crumpled underneat, and tire nose section lay some yards aared up at tc it  yello and laminated paper.

    Sabriel stared at t and sorroc  anot and field of vision.

    More small pieces of tre area. Groaning  of motivating bruised muscles, Sabriel levered  of t to  the ground.

    t area to be man-made; flagstones, carefully laid. Grass ones, and lic  recent  on tones and tom of a sinkhole.

    t t seemed to kickstart s and sarted to  a feance,  ? And ? t reminded o fetche bells.

    urbanned  ated around on  back-to-front. Sloiff neck.

    Balancing  candle on t of t anot and took to ligroyed Paper t, sly touchem.

    “I am sorry,” so make a neo carry on your name.”

    “Sentiment, Ab managed to sound like Mogget and not at all like  time. It ric generators she’d used in yverley College Science classes.

    “ly turning.

    t t.

    Sransferred it to  hand.

    “e fire run out from under t lit te as t, e smoke, totally obscuring .

    No Deatc Sabriel could almost smell tangy, unnatural, nerve-jangling, tainting tural smoke. te fire-lines again, streaming out, converging, roiling, coming togete creature stepped out from the Paperwing.

    Sabriel couldn’t look at it directly, but from taller t starved. It orso and ing, whirling force.

    “Free, save for t said, advancing. All trace of Mogget’s voice   now, submerged in zapping, crackling menace.

    Sabriel  about t. Summoning all er marks to t of oing their names.

    “Anet! Calew! Ferhan!”

    t er t straigly  effect.

    It laugs languid motion seemed to declare it  he Paperwing.

    Sabriel dre to panic as s. ten, c. ions.

    Per t ure’s blazing presence to lig as if it could read ure suddenly started to lose its brilliance, sucking darkness into its s out—a fearful silte, back-lit by the burning Paperwing.

    Desperately, Sabriel tried to remember ructs.

    ioned trix Greeno t. Sabriel kne ture before ilken.

    “Keep ture, advancing again. “Sucy your  oo well.”

    “You saved it from not working forever,”

    Sabriel replied  er all, so per some, if only it could be broug.

    “Sentiment,” till silently sliding for laugendril-like arm suddenly unleasself, snapping across tervening space to strike Sabriel across the face.

    “A memory, no added, as Sabriel staggered back from a second attack, ss, ter-etc ural flesure, but  apart from jarring Sabriel’s arm.

    oo, a y floinging ried to ignore it, tried to use t o get o full operational speed.

    “Memories, yes, many memories,” continued ture. It   soon, and t ten from her hand.

    “Millenia of servitude, Abrickery, treacive in a repulsive, fixedfles t, slo—not quick, not quick at all!”

    A tendril las, loime, trying to trip  over it, blade extended, lunging for ture’s c. But it sruding extra arms as sried to jump back, catching her in mid-leap, drawing her close.

    S  tigs grip, till s its c, s boiling, constantly moving flesiny insects buzzed beter darkness.

    Anot, forcing o look up, till ss ly above  basic anatomy, its eyes s  apparent bottom. It  a mout split tly parted to reveal te glare t it  used as flesh.

    All Cer Magic rapped, t, s kno t Dead. Sally anyic, ligory of anyt might help.

    It ired, concussed mind remembered t was on  he index finger.

    But s knoo do —and ture’s oretcill it e- sparks t fell upon  and face, burning clotiny, tattoo-like scars. t loose on her finger.

    Sabriel instinctively curled  looser still, slipping do looking, Sabriel kneo do.

    “First, t as tant sunburn. It tilted its s moutill ing out.

    Sabriel took one last, careful look, screerrible glare, and flipped thing’s neck.

    For a second, as t increased and s a terrible burning pain against  s like an angry fised minnow.

    On tones again, s one blurry, sore and sears—but still till working.

    S t  long, sinuous neck. t slid, impervious to ture’s desperate attempts to get it off. It ly from its s, trying to force fingers under t tal seemed inimical to ture’s substance, like a  pan to , but could not take han a second.

    t stained it oo, draining dos ting support, leaving gloure fouging and turning, even bucking, as if it could the ring  like a rider from a horse.

    Finally, it gave up and turned to from it, reacoalons groone oling to to fall s by a yard or more.

    “No!” s ing, coiling body lurcstretcalons fell s, as Sabriel crawled, rolled and pushed herself away.

    tracted once more, and a terrible s of anguiser of te-flaming ts arms suddenly so its torso; to to an amorpe, ill-large silver band around ttering like a drop of blood.

    Sabriel stared at it, unable to look aside, or do anyt ting blood. It seemed to  somet undone, somet so provide.

    Nervously craer marks t told  s do. earily, s up on he bellbandolier.

    Saranet beyond rengt so dra out, and to pierce the glowing, silverbound mass.

    to ts oal, ure Saraneth.

    At time, tency. to run, and a red  a red leature silver bell.

    ite mass quivered, and s again, till Sabriel o soget, collared in red leatting up and looking like  to throw up a hairball.

    It  a  a silver ring, ting Mogget’s internal lig rolled to Sabriel, tinkling across tone. S up and slid it back on her finger.

    Mogget’s glo embers, sad memories and asurned, cloaking Sabriel, , not even thinking.

    A little later, s a soft cat nose against ’s mouth.

    “Your nose is still bleeding,” said a familiar, didactic voice. “Lig some blankets out for us to sleep.

    It’s getting cold.”

    “elcome back, Mogget,” whispered Sabriel.


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