Page 5 (1/2)

"I don’t understand," es and townseven cities, in the Old Kingdom I remember some of them from my childhoodwell, I sort of redom, certainly," replied the Colonel "The records mention quite a few names of towns and cities We know that the people up there call the area around the Wall ‘the Borderlands’ And they don’t say it with any fondness"

Sabriel didn’t answer, bending her head lower over theabout the journey that lay ahead of her Cloven Crest ht htfall if she left fairly soon, and if it wasn’t snowing too hard across the Wall A broken Charter Stone did not bode well, but there would be soic there and the path into Death would be easier to tread Charter Stones were often erected where Free Magic flowed and crossroads of the Free Magic currents were often natural doorways into the realm of death Sabriel felt a shiver inch up her spine at the thought of what h to her fingers on theat her long, pale hands, the heavy paper of theat her touch With an effort of will, she stilled the e," he said quietly "Back in Corvere, with doaze, and her eyes were not the uncertain, flickering beacons of adolescence

"I a her palainst her breast with an almost wistful motion "But I first walked in Death when I elve I encountered a Fifth Gate Rester when I was fourteen, and banished it beyond the Ninth Gate When I was sixteen I stalked and banished a Mordicant that came near the school A weakened Mordicant, but stillA year ago, I turned the final page of The Book of the Dead I don’t feel young anymore"

"I am sorry for that," said the Colonel, then, almost as if he had surprised himself, he added, "Ah, I hter has--sooes with youth But I don’t wish it if it eaken you in the times ahead You have chosen a difficult path"

" ’Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?’ " Sabriel quoted, the words, redolent with echoes of Charter Magic, twining around her tongue like so spice Those words were the dedication in the front of her almanac They were also the very last words, all alone on the last page, of The Book of the Dead

"I’ve heard that before," remarked Horyse "What does it mean?"

"I don’t know," said Sabriel

"It holds pohen you say it," added the Colonel slowly He sed, open-mouthed, as if the taste of the Charter marks was still in the air "If I spoke those words, that’s all they would be Just words"

"I can’t explain it" Sabriel shrugged, and attes that are more to the point at the ht, but do not take the hand of night’ I must be on randmothers and nannies, but it was an empty smile His eyes slid a little away fro to let her cross the Wall Then he sighed, the short, huffy sigh of a h lack of alternatives

"Your papers are in order," he said, hter of Abhorsen I cannot do other than let you pass But I can’t help feeling that I aer I can’t even send a patrol out with you, since we have five full patrols already out there"

"I expected to go alone," replied Sabriel She had expected that, but felt a tinge of regret A protective group of soldiers would be quite a coerous land, even if it was her homeland, was only just below the level of her excitement It wouldn’t take much for the fear to rise over it And always, there was the picture of her father in her mind Her father in trouble, trapped and alone in the chill waters of Death

"Very well," said Horyse "Sergeant!"

A helmeted head appeared suddenly around the doorway, and Sabriel realized two soldiers out, on the steps up into the communication trench She wondered if they’d heard

"Prepare a crossing party," snapped Horyse "A single person to cross Miss Abhorsen, here And Sergeant, if you or Private Rahise so much as talk in your sleep about what you ues for the rest of your lives!"

"Yes, sir!" came the sharp reply, echoed by the unfortunate Private Rahise, who, Sabriel noted, did seeesturing towards the door "May I carry your skis again?"

The Ar the Wall Sabriel stood alone under the great arch of the gate that pierced the Wall, but archers stood or knelt in a reverse arrowhead forone ahead with Colonel Horyse A hundred yards behind her, past a zigzagged lane of barbed wire, tyn h Sabriel noted they had drawn their sword-bayonets and thrust the little faith in their air-cooled 45-rounds-per-ate in the archway, though rusting hinges swung like mechanical hands on either side and sharp shards of oak thrust out of the ground, like teeth in a broken jaw, testiical force

It was snowing lightly on the Old Kingdoh the gate into Ancelstierre, where they ht in Sabriel’s hair She brushed at it lightly, till it slid down her face and was captured by her tongue

The cold water was refreshing and, though it tasted no different from any other melted snow she’d drunk, it do then Her father had carried her through, when he first brought her south into Ancelstierre

A whistle alerted her, and she saw a figure appear out of the snow, flanked by twelve others, who drew up in two lines leading out fro, blades reflecting the light that was itself reflected fro for her

With her skis over her shoulder, Sabriel picked her way ah the arch, froht sun into the pallid luminescence of a snowfall, from her past into her future