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“no；” said abhorsen firmly。 he gently pushed her hand away。 sabriel let go； and he took astarael carefully from the bandolier； making sure it couldn’t sound。 “does the walker choose the path； or the path the walker？”
numbly； sabriel handed him her sword 。 。 。 his sword。 her empty hands hung open by her sides。
“i have walked in death to the very precipice of the ninth gate；” abhorsen said quietly。 “i know the secrets and horrors of the nine precincts。 i do not know what lies beyond； but everything that lives must go there； in the proper time。 that is the rule that governs our work as the abhorsen； but it also governs us。 you are the fifty…third abhorsen； sabriel。 i have not taught you as well as i should—let this be my final lesson。 everyone and everything has a time to die。”
he bent forward； and kissed her forehead； just under the rim of her helmet。 for a moment； she stood like a stringed puppet at rest； then she flung herself against his chest； feeling the soft fabric of his surcoat。 she seemed to diminish in size； till once again she was a little girl； running to his embrace at the school gates。 as she could then； she heard the slow beating of his heart。 only now； she heard the beats as grains in a time… piece； counting his hard…won hundred hundreds； counting till it was time for him to die。
she hugged him tightly； her arms meeting around his back； his arms outstretched like a cross； sword in one hand； bell in the other。 then； she let go。
they turned together； and plunged out into life。
kerrigor laughed again； an obscene cackle that rose to a manic crescendo； before suddenly cutting to an ominous silence。 the dead resumed their drumming； softer now； and the fog drifted forward with horrible certainty。 touchstone； drenched and partly drowned； watched it with the taut nerves of a mouse captivated by a gliding snake。 somewhere in the back of his mind； he noted that it was easier to see the whiteness of the fog。 up above； the clouds had gone； and the edges of the reservoir were once again lit by filtered sunlight。 but they were forty paces or more from the edge 。 。 。
a cracking noise behind him made him start； and turn； a jolt of fear suddenly overlaid with relief。 sabriel； and her father； were returning to life！ ice flakes fell from them in miniature flurries； and the layer of ice around abhorsen’s middle broke into several small floes and drifted away。
touchstone blinked as the frost fell away from their hands and faces。 now sabriel was emptyhanded； and abhorsen wielded the sword and bell。
“thank the charter！” exclaimed touchstone； as they opened their eyes and moved。
but no one heard him； for in that instant a terrible scream of rage and fury burst out of the fog； so loud the columns shivered； and ripples burst out across the water。
touchstone turned again； and the fog was flying away in shreds； revealing the mordicant crouched low； only its eyes and long mouth； bubbling with oily flames； visible above the water。
behind it； with one elongated hand upon its bogclay head； stood something that might be thought of as a man。
staring； touchstone saw that kerrigor had tried to make the body he currently inhabited look like the rogir of old； but either his skills； memory or taste were sadly lacking。 kerrigor stood at least seven feet tall； his body impossibly deep…chested and narrow…waisted。 his head was too thin； and too long； and his mouth spread from ear to ear。 his eyes did not bear looking at； for they were thin slits burning with free magic fires—not eyes at all。
but somehow； even so warped； he did have a little of the look of rogir。 take a man； make him malleable； stretch and twist 。 。 。
the hideous mouth opened； yawning wider and wider； then kerrigor laughed； a short laugh； punctuated by the snap of his closing jaws。
then he spoke； and his voice was as warped and twisted as his body。
“i am fortunate。 three bearers of blood— blood for the breaking！ three！”
touchstone kept staring； hearing kerrigor’s voice； still somewhat like rogir’s； rich but rotten； wet like worm…ridden fruit。 he saw both the new； twisted kerrigor and the other； betterfashioned body he’d known as rogir。 he saw the dagger again； slashing across the queen’s throat； the blood cascading out； the golden cup 。 。 。
a hand grabbed him； turned him around； took his left sword from his grasp。 he suddenly refocused； gasping for air again； and saw sabriel。
she had his left sword in her right hand； and now took his open palm in her left； dragging him towards the south。 he let her pull； following in a splashing； loose…limbed run。 everything seemed to close in then； his vision narrowing； like a halfremembered dream。
he saw sabriel’s father—the abhorsen—for the first time devoid of frost。 he looked hard； determined； but he smiled； and bowed his head a fraction as they passed。 touchstone wondered why he was going the wrong way 。 。 。 towards kerrigor； towards the dagger and the catching cup。 mogget was on his shoulder too； and that was unlike mogget； going into danger 。 。 。 there was something else peculiar about mogget too 。 。 。 yes； his collar was gone 。 。 。 maybe he should turn and go back； put mogget’s collar back on； try and fight kerrigor 。 。 。
“run！ damn you！ run！” screamed sabriel； as he half…turned。 her voice snapped him out of whatever trance he’d been in。 nausea hit； for they’d left the diamond of protection。 unwarned； he threw up immediately； turning his head as they ran。 he realized he was dragging on sabriel’s hand； and forced himself to run faster； though his legs felt dead； numbed by savage pins and needles。 he could hear the dead again now； chanting； and drumming； drumming fast。 there were voices too； raised loud； echoing in the vast cavern。 the howl of the mordicant； and a strange buzzing； crackling sound that he felt rather than heard。
they reached the southern stair； but sabriel didn’t slacken her pace； jumping up and off； out of the twilight of the reservoir into total darkness。
touchstone lost her hand； then found it again； and they stumbled up the steps together； swords held dangerously ahead and behind； striking sparks from the stone。 still they