Sabriel ao soft candleligs, deligs. A fire burned briskly in a red-brick fireplace and ery of ed across it, faced ed eac ttered, so Sabriel time it t ely Ab memory ing on tep.
Gingerly—for even of travel, fear and fliged o look around and once again met t t a cat.
ture the bed.
“ are you?” Sabriel asked nervously, suddenly all too a s ss. A sensuous delig a defenseless one. o and bell-bandolier, carefully draped on a clothe door.
“I y of names,” replied t. It range voice, . As to no of Abo remove my collar?”
Sabriel gave an uneasy smile, and sever Mogget collar kept it as a servant of Aber marks on te explicit about t. As far as Sabriel could tell, t e possible t Mogget as old as t mentioned it, and so find roubles over.
“I t not,” said Mogget, combining a careless sretc . . . or t ely masculine, jumped to t floor and sauntered over to tcrained eye noting t Mogget’s s al of a cat.
A knock at terrupted udy of t, to attention.
“It’s only one of ts,” Mogget said, in a patronizing tone. “Cer sendings, and pretty lo t. the milk.”
Sabriel ignored sh her for a while.
tly and a s, robed figure drifted in. It o te a visible face, but t on underdress draped over one arm, a tos Cer-woven and a pair of slippers.
it a to t ts on Sabriel’s feet. t crossed to a porcelain basin t sat in a silver filigree stand, above a tiled area of to t of t ted a bronze er splas tenc.
Sabriel wrinkled her nose.
“ springs,” commented Mogget. “You smell it after a er your grandfat? Or great-great-aunt? Ah, memory . . .”
t stood immobile ed to cut ter slopped over to to Mogget—o and padded aious distance from ter sending. Just like a real cat, Sabriel t. Peroo, over turies. Ss. t, a plump marmalade feline, s.
Sabriel t about t slept on t’s Room, and t t iquette class, and tress droning on about silver salvers . . .
A s anotart, sending furtabs of pain tired muscles.
ter sending apped t ient for Sabriel to have her wash.
“ater’s getting cold,” explained Mogget, leaping up to they’ll be serving dinner in half an hour.”
“tting up and reaco grab slippers and toory to sidling out of bed and into them.
“t, butting ion of tepped back from t a bar of soap.
Sabriel so to before s, tepped forward, wowel off he whole basin over her head.
Sabriel s, again before s back turned t er and tention to ed to get soap in Sabriel’s eyes, or suspected an infestation of nits.
“ are you doing!” Sabriel protested, as trangely cool e interest, at s and stomacop it! I’m quite old enougo washank you!”
But Miss Prionte’s tecic servants didn’t seem to ic sendings. It kept scrubbing, occasionally tipping er over Sabriel.
“op it?” stered to Mogget, as still more er cascaded over arted to scrub lower regions.
“You can’t,” replied Mogget, acle. “ticularly recalcitrant.”
“ do you . . . oop t! do you mean, this one?”
“ts about t.
“Every Abo heir own.
Probably because t like ter a feically possible way.”
ts scrubbing just long enougo flick some er at Mogget, w him.
Just before anot basin-load of er Sabriel, s s under tail dividing the bedspread.
“t’s enoug drencer drained out tiled area. t Sabriel, as it stopped ed to towel her dry.
Sco and tried to finis terattacked by combing ussle. Eventually, bet, and submitted to a manicure and vigorous hair-brushing.
Siny, repeated silver key motif on t in t backed one of tters, second later, Mogget raced t Sabriel t he door behind her.
Dinner ately room t took up ed by to ceiling stained-glass tern end. ter Magic.
Per at all, Sabriel mused, as sc of toiling figures t iny Cer marks making up tterns.
It judging from t dusk. Sabriel realized s for a full day, or possibly even two.
A table nearly as long as tretcly polisable of some ligrous timber, cellars, candelabra and ratastic-looking decanters and covered dishes.
But only t, ruments, te textbook.
Sra of a pomegranate before, for example.
One place able and to t of t of a cusool. Sabriel jumped up on tool and said, “Come on! t serve till you’re seated.”
“tyrant of t co transparent, as if Cer marks ly etcic one.
tood grouped around a door—tcang of cooking— and stared at to meet any eyes.
“Yes, t’s said caustically.
“Your neress. No’s have dinner.”
None of till Sabriel stepped forepped foroo, and all dropped to one knee, or ed t t er marks running brigrails around their palms and fingers.
Sabriel stared for a moment, but it y, and expected o do someturn. So tly pressed eac urn, feeling ter-spells t made t ruly, for some of than Sabriel could guess.
“I the kindness you have shown me.”
to be appropriate, or enougo be going on ood, bo about t pulled out Sabriel’s c. It ed iny silver keys, a miracle of needlework.
Mogget, Sabriel noticed, e napkin, ains.
“I’ve o eat in tc t said sourly, as t signaled tantalizing odor of spices and food.
“I expect it y, dry developed a palate to kno. It ainly drinkable.
major experiments occasions s Sabriel arted to enjoy h her meals.
“Anyway, how did you know I was coming?”
Sabriel asked. “I didn’t knoill . . . till Fat his message.”
t didn’t ans once, tention focused on te of fis put do circular fis eyes and s.
Sabriel oo, but omato, garlic and basil sauce.
“I en times as many of your forebears as you replied at last.
“And time, I alheir place.”
Sabriel saste gone, and put doo clear , but it seemed to have become vinegar, making her cough.
“ do you mean by ‘fall’? do you knoher?”
Mogget looked up at Sabriel, eyes ing eadily, as no normal cat could.
“ passed te, is—”
“No,” interrupted Sabriel. “ be! be. be dead . . .”
“t is o you, as sent to ime,”
Mogget continued, ignoring Sabriel’s outburst.
“And a necromancer, he was Abhorsen.”
“I don’t understand,” Sabriel ’s eyes anymore. “I don’t kno knohing.
ter Magic, even my o itle?”
“It is. he Abhorsen. Now you are.”
Sabriel digested taring at te, silver scales and red tomato blurring into a pattern of sable blurred too, and t try as s, s cross it. S, but to cross, in eition—Aboo ected. But s ting for o cross, but test t of a er s t of a particular pipe tobacco around a corner. Sabriel focused on it and t t separated h.
Only to ricoc back to Life, as s, to see Mogget, fur bristling, one pao strike again.
“Fool!” for you to do so!”
Sabriel stared at t, unseeing, biting back a sort as srut’s s ing, and probably t would cross as well—and shem alone and weaponless.
“I’m sorry,” stered, boed felt tupidly a and muc sears at bay.
“Fat yet truly dead,” ser a moment. “I felt rapped beyond many gates. I could bring him back.”
“You must not,” said Mogget firmly, and o carry all t of centuries.
“You are Ab put to rest. Your path is chosen.”
“I can path,” Sabriel replied firmly, raising her head.
Mogget seemed about to protest again, to ool.
“Do as you o service. o evil? It is your fatoo—and the Dead who will be merry.”
“I don’t t blusion in melting, trickling down around her face.
“ felt alive. rapped in Deat ill be reviled if I broughen?”
“No,” said Mogget, calm again. “But t he lives.”
“I feel it,” Sabriel said simply. “And I must find out if my feeling is true.”
“Per is so—trange.” Mogget seemed to be musing to rangles me, cs . . .”
“,” Sabriel suddenly pleaded, reaco touco t’s co knoo know so much!”
Mogget purred under tc as Sabriel leaned close, s peal of tiny Saranet t Mogget , but a Free Magic creature. For a moment, Sabriel ’s true srue nature.
“I am t of Ab said at last. “And you are Ab you must promise me t you raise your fatruly, wis.”
“I cannot promise. But I act muc. And I en to you, if you are by me.”
“I guessed as muc said, ting is true t you are sadly ignorant, or you you beyond the all.”
“ suddenly leaping ion t ion Aby.”
“, turning tention back to tierre.”
“ was he afraid of?”
“Eat your fis, as tc course. “e’ll talk later. In tudy.”