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this seemed to be appropriate； or enough to be going on with。 the sendings stood； bowed and went about their business。 the one in the cream habit pulled out sabriel’s chair and placed her napkin as she sat。 it was of crisp black linen； dusted with tiny silver keys； a miracle of needlework。
mogget； sabriel noticed； had a plain white napkin； with evidence of old stains。
“i’ve had to eat in the kitchen for the last two weeks；” mogget said sourly； as two sendings approached from the kitchen； bearing plates that signaled their arrival with a tantalizing odor of spices and hot food。
“i expect it was good for you；” sabriel replied brightly； taking a mouthful of wine。 it was a fruity； dry white wine； though sabriel hadn’t developed a palate to know whether it was good or merely indifferent。 it was certainly drinkable。
her first major experiments with alcohol lay several years behind her； enshrined in memory as significant occasions shared with two of her closest friends。 none of the three could ever drink brandy again； but sabriel had started to enjoy wine with her meals。
“anyway； how did you know i was ing？”
sabriel asked。 “i didn’t know myself； till 。 。 。 till father sent his message。”
the cat didn’t answer at once； his attention focused on the plate of fish the sending had just put down—small； almost circular fish； with the bright eyes and shiny scales of the freshly caught。
sabriel had them too； but hers were grilled； with a tomato； garlic and basil sauce。
“i have served ten times as many of your forebears as you have years；” mogget replied at last。
“and though my powers wane with the ebb of time； i always know when one abhorsen falls and another takes their place。”
sabriel swallowed her last mouthful； all taste gone； and put down her fork。 she took a mouthful of wine to clear her throat； but it seemed to have bee vinegar； making her cough。
“what do you mean by ‘fall’？ what do you know？ what has happened to father？”
mogget looked up at sabriel； eyes half…lidded； meeting her gaze steadily； as no normal cat could。
“he is dead； sabriel。 even if he hasn’t passed the final gate； he will walk in life no more。 that is—”
“no；” interrupted sabriel。 “he can’t be！ he cannot be。 he is a necromancer 。 。 。 he can’t be dead 。 。 。”
“that is why he sent the sword and bells to you； as his aunt sent them to him； in her time；”
mogget continued； ignoring sabriel’s outburst。
“and he was not a necromancer； he was abhorsen。”
“i don’t understand；” sabriel whispered。 she couldn’t face mogget’s eyes anymore。 “i don’t know 。 。 。 i don’t know enough。 about anything。
the old kingdom； charter magic； even my own father。 why do you say his name as if it were a title？”
“it is。 he was the abhorsen。 now you are。”
sabriel digested this in silence； staring at the swirls of fish and sauce on her plate； silver scales and red tomato blurring into a pattern of swords and fire。 the table blurred too； and the room beyond； and she felt herself reaching for the border with death。 but try as she might； she couldn’t cross it。 she sensed it； but there was no way to cross； in either direction—abhorsen’s house was too well protected。 but she did feel something at the border。 inimical things lurked there； waiting for her to cross； but there was also the faintest thread of something familiar； like the scent of a woman’s perfume after she has left the room； or the waft of a particular pipe tobacco around a corner。 sabriel focused on it and threw herself once more at the barrier that separated her from death。
only to ricochet back to life； as sharp claws pricked her arm。 her eyes snapped open； blinking off flakes of frost； to see mogget； fur bristling； one paw ready to strike again。
“fool！” he hissed。 “you are the only one who can break the wards of this house and they wait for you to do so！”
sabriel stared at the angry cat； unseeing； biting back a sharp and proud retort as she realized the truth in mogget’s words。 there were dead spirits waiting； and probably the mordicant would cross as well—and she would have faced them alone and weaponless。
“i’m sorry；” she muttered； bowing her head into two frosted hands。 she hadn’t felt this stupidly awful since she’d burned one of the headmistress’s rose bushes with an uncontrolled charter…spell； narrowly missing the school’s ancient and much…loved gardener。 she had cried then； but she was older now； and could keep the tears at bay。
“father is not yet truly dead；” she said； after a moment。 “i felt his presence； though he is trapped beyond many gates。 i could bring him back。”
“you must not；” said mogget firmly； and his voice now seemed to carry all the weight of centuries。
“you are abhorsen； and must put the dead to rest。 your path is chosen。”
“i can walk a different path；” sabriel replied firmly； raising her head。
mogget seemed about to protest again； then he laughed—a sardonic laugh—and jumped back to his stool。
“do as you will；” he said。 “why should i gainsay you？ i am but a slave； bound to service。 why would i weep if abhorsen falls to evil？ it is your father who would curse you； and your mother too—and the dead who will be merry。”
“i don’t think he’s dead；” sabriel said； bright blushes of withheld emotion in her pallid cheeks； frost melting； trickling down around her face。
“his spirit felt alive。 he is trapped in death； i think； but his body lives。 would i still be reviled if i brought him back then？”
“no；” said mogget； calm again。 “but he has sent the sword and bells。 you are only wishing that he lives。”
“i feel it；” sabriel said simply。 “and i must find out if my feeling is true。”
“perhaps it is so—though strange。” mogget seemed to be musing to himself； his voice a soft half…purr。 “i have grown dull。 this collar strangles me； chokes my wits 。 。 。”
“help me； mogget；” sabriel suddenly pleaded； reaching over to touch her hand to the cat’s head； scratching under the collar。 “i need to know—i need to know so much！”
mogget purred under the scratching； but as sabriel leaned close； she could hear the faint peal of the tiny