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thing； accelerating her back up； back into her body； back to the world of life and death。
“free magic；” sabriel said； looking down at the ring gleaming on her finger。 “free magic； connected to the charter。 i don’t understand。”
“you’ll know if you need to use it；” mogget repeated； almost as if it were some lesson to be learned by rote。 then； in his normal voice： “don’t worry about it till then。 e—the paperwing is ready。”
．。
chapter xi
the paperwing sat on a juryrigged platform of freshly sawn pine planks； teetering out over the eastern wall。 siendings clustered around the craft； readying it for flight。
sabriel looked up at it as she climbed the stairs； an unpleasant feeling rising with her。 she had been expecting something similar to the aircraft that had begun to be mon in ancelstierre； like the biplane that had performed aerobatics at the last wyverley college open day。
something with two wings； rigging and a propeller— though she had assumed a magical engine rather than a mechanical one。
but the paperwing didn’t look anything like an ancelstierran airplane。 it most closely resembled a canoe with hawk…wings and a tail。 on closer inspection； sabriel saw that the central fuselage was probably based on a canoe。 it was tapered at each end and had a central hole for a cockpit。
wings sprouted on each side of this canoe shape—long； swept…back wings that looked very flimsy。 the wedge…shaped tail didn’t look much better。
sabriel climbed the last few steps with sinking expectations。 the construction material was now clear and so was the craft’s name—the whole thing was made up from many sheets of paper； bonded together with some sort of laminate。
painted powder…blue； with silver bands around the fuselage and silver stripes along the wings and tail； it looked pretty； decorative and not at all airworthy。
only the yellow falcon eyes painted on its pointed prow hinted at its capacity for flight。
sabriel looked at the paperwing again； and then out at the waterfall beyond。 now； fed by floodwaters； it looked even more frightening than usual。 spray exploded for tens of yards above its lip—a roaring mist the paperwing would have to fly through before it reached the open sky beyond。 sabriel didn’t even know if it was waterproof。
“how often has this 。 。 。 thing 。 。 。 flown before？” she asked； nervously。 intellectually； she accepted that she would soon be sitting in this craft； to be launched out towards the crashing waters—but her subconscious； and her stomach； seemed very keen to stay firmly on the ground。
“many times；” replied mogget； easily jumping from the platform to the cockpit。 his voice echoed there for a moment； till he climbed back up； furry cat…face propped on the rim。 “the abhorsen who made it once flew it to the sea and back； in a single afternoon。 but she was a great weather…witch and could work the winds。 i don’t suppose—”
“no；” said sabriel； made aware of another gap in her education。 she knew that wind…magic was largely whistled charter marks； but that was all。
“no。 i can’t。”
“well；” continued mogget； after a thoughtful pause； “the paperwing does have some elementary charms to ride the wind。 you’ll have to whistle them； though。 you can whistle； i trust？”
sabriel ignored him。 all necromancers had to be musical； had to be able to whistle； to hum； to sing。
if they were caught in death without bells； or other magical instruments； their vocal skills were a weapon of last recourse。
a sending came and took her pack； helping her to wrestle it off； then stowing it at the rear of the cockpit。 another took sabriel’s arm and directed her to what appeared to be a leather halfhammock strung across the cockpit—obviously the pilot’s seat。 it didn’t look terribly safe either； but sabriel forced herself to climb in； after giving her scabbarded sword into the hands of yet another sending。
surprisingly； her feet didn’t go through the paper…laminated floor。 the material even felt reassuringly solid and； after a minute of squirming； swaying and adjustment； the hammock…seat was very fortable。 sword and scabbard were slid into a receptacle at her side and mogget took up a position on top of the straps holding down her pack； just behind her shoulders； for the seat made her recline so far she was almost lying down。
from her new eye level； sabriel saw a small； oval mirror of silvered glass； fixed just below the cockpit rim。 it glittered in the late afternoon sun； and she felt it resonate with charter magic。
something about it prompted her to breathe upon it； her hot breath clouding the glass。 it stayed misted for a moment； then a charter mark slowly appeared； as if a ghostly finger was drawn across the clouded mirror。
sabriel studied it carefully； absorbing its purpose and effect。 it told her of the marks that would follow； marks to raise the lifting winds； marks for descending in haste； marks to call the wind from every corner of the pass rose。
there were other marks for the paperwing and； as sabriel absorbed them； she saw that the whole craft was lined with charter magic； infused with spells。 the abhorsen who made it had labored long； and with love； to create something that was more like a magical bird than an aircraft。
time passed； and the last mark faded。 the mirror cleared to be only a plate of silver glass shining in the sun。 sabriel sat； silent； fixing the charter marks in her memory； marveling at the power and the skill that had made the paperwing and had thought of this method of instruction。 perhaps one day； she too would have the mastery to create such a thing。
“the abhorsen who made this；” sabriel asked。
“who was she？ i mean； in relation to me？”
“a cousin；” purred mogget； close to her ear。
“your great…great…great…great…grandmother’s cousin。
the last of that line。 she had no children。”
maybe the paperwing was her child； sabriel thought； running her hand along the sleek surface of the fuselage； feeling the charter marks quiescent in the fabric。 she felt a lot better about their forthing flight。
“we’d best hurry；” mogget continued。 “it will be dark all too soon。 do you have the m