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flight。
“we’d best hurry；” mogget continued。 “it will be dark all too soon。 do you have the marks remembered？”
“yes；” replied sabriel firmly。 she turned to the sendings； who were now lined up behind the wings； anchoring the paperwing till it was time for it to be unleashed upon the sky。 sabriel wondered how many times they’d performed this task； and for how many abhorsens。
“thank you；” she said to them。 “for all your care and kindness。 goodbye。”
with that last word； she settled back in the hammock…seat； gripped the rim of the cockpit with both hands； and whistled the notes of the lifting wind； visualizing the requisite string of charter marks in her mind； letting them drip down into her throat and lips； and out into the air。
her whistle sounded clear and true； and a wind rose behind to match it； growing stronger as sabriel exhaled。 then； with a new breath； she changed to a merry； joyous trill。 like a bird revelling in flight； the charter marks flowing from pursed lips out into the paperwing itself。 with this whistling； the blue and silver paint seemed to e alive； dancing down the fuselage； sweeping across the wings； a gleaming； lustrous plumage。
the whole craft shook and shivered； suddenly flexible and eager to begin。
the joyous trill ended with one single long； clear note； and a charter mark that shone like the sun。
it danced to the paperwing’s prow and sank into the laminate。 a second later； the yellow eyes blinked； grew fierce and proud； looking up to the sky ahead。
the sendings were struggling now； barely able to hold the paperwing back。 the lifting wind grew stronger still； plucking at the silver…blue plumage； thrusting it forward。 sabriel felt the paperwing’s tension； the contained power in its wings； the exhilaration of that last moment when freedom is assured。
“let go！” she cried； and the sendings plied； the paperwing leaping up into the arms of the wind； out and upward； splashing through the spray of the waterfall as if it were no more than a spring shower； flying out into the sky and the broad valley beyond。
it was quiet； and cold； a thousand feet or more above the valley。 the paperwing soared easily； the wind firm behind it； the sky clear above； save for the faintest wisps of cloud。 sabriel reclined in her hammock…seat； relaxing； running the charter marks she’d leaned over and over in her mind； making sure she had them properly pigeonholed。
she felt free； and somehow clean； as if the dangers of the last few days were dirt； washed away by the following wind。
“turn more to the north；” mogget’s voice suddenly said behind her； disturbing her carefree mood。 “do you recall the map？”
“yes；” replied sabriel。 “shall we follow the river？ the ratterlin； it’s called； isn’t it？ it runs nornor… east most of the time。”
mogget didn’t reply at once； though sabriel heard his purring breath close by。 he seemed to be thinking。 finally； he said； “why not？ we may as well follow it to the sea。 it branches into a delta there； so we can find an island to camp on tonight。”
“why not just fly on？” asked sabriel cheerily。
“we could be in belisaere by tomorrow night； if i summon the strongest winds。”
“the paperwing doesn’t like to fly at night；”
mogget said； shortly。 “not to mention that you would almost certainly lose control of the stronger winds—it is much more difficult than it seems at first。 and the paperwing is much too conspicuous； anyway。 have you no mon sense； abhorsen？”
“call me sabriel；” sabriel replied； equally shortly。 “my father is abhorsen。”
“as you wish； mistress；” said mogget。 the “mistress” sounded extremely sarcastic。
the next hour passed in belligerent silence； but sabriel； for her part； soon lost her anger in the novelty of flight。 she loved the scale of it all； to see the tiny patchworked fields and forests below； the dark strip of the river； the occasional tiny building。 everything was so small and seemed so perfect； seen from afar。
then the sun began to sink； and though the red wash of its fading light made the aerial perspective even prettier； sabriel felt the paperwing’s desire to descend； felt the yellow eyes focusing on green earth； rather than blue sky。 as the shadows lengthened； sabriel felt that same desire and began to look as well。
the river was already breaking up into the myriad streams and rivulets that would form the swampy ratterlin delta； and far off； sabriel could see the dark bulk of the sea。 there were many islands in the delta； some as large as football fields covered with trees and shrubs； others no bigger than two armspans of mud。
sabriel picked out one of the medium…sized ones； a flattish diamond with low； yellow grass； a few leagues ahead； and whistled down the wind。
it faded gradually with her whistle and the paperwing began to descend； occasionally nudged this way or that by sabriel’s control of the wind； or its own tilt of a wing。 its yellow eyes； and sabriel’s deep…brown eyes； were fixed on the ground below。 only mogget； being mogget； looked behind them and above。
even so； he didn’t see their pursuers until they came wheeling out of the sun； so his yowling cry gave only a few seconds’ warning； just long enough for sabriel to turn and see the hundreds of fast…moving shapes diving down upon them。 instinctively； she conjured charter marks in her mind； mouth pursed； whistling the wind back up； turning them to the north。
“gore crows！” hissed mogget； as the flapping shapes checked their dive and wheeled to pursue their suddenly enlivened prey。
“yes；” shouted sabriel； though she wasn’t sure why she answered。 her attention was all on the gore crows； trying to gauge whether they’d intercept or not。 she could already feel the wind testing the edges of her control； as mogget had prophesied； and to whip it up further might have unpleasant results。 but she could also feel the presence of the gore crows； feel the admixture of death and free magic that gave life to their rotten； skeletal forms。
gore crows didn’t last very long in sun and wind—these must have been made the previous night。 a necromancer had trapped quite ordinary crows； killing them with ri