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ng as the afternoon waned—it was probably close to setting on the other side—but the visibility was good enough to make out the distant airborne shape that was descending in a series of long； gradual loops 。 。 。 on the other side of the wall。 in the old kingdom。
the duty officer was watching through big artillery spotter’s binoculars； his elbows perched on the sandbagged parapet of the position。
horyse paused for a moment to think of the fellow’s name—he was new to the perimeter garrison—then tapped him on the shoulder。
“jorbert。 mind if i have a look？”
the young officer lowered the binoculars reluctantly； and handed them across like a boy deprived of a half…eaten lollipop。
“it’s definitely an aircraft； sir；” he said； brightening up as he spoke。 “totally silent； like a glider； but it’s clearly powered somehow。 very maneuverable； and beautifully painted； too。 there’s two 。 。 。 people in it； sir。”
horyse didn’t answer； but took up the binoculars and the same elbow…propping stance。 for a moment； he couldn’t see the aircraft； and he hastily panned left and right； then zigzagged up and down—and there it was； lower than he expected； almost in a landing approach。
“sound stand…to；” he ordered harshly； as the realization struck him that the craft would land very close to the crossing point—perhaps only a hundred yards from the gate。
he heard his mand being repeated by jorbert to a sergeant； and then bellowed out； to be taken up by sentries； duty ncos； and eventually to hand…cranked klaxons and the old bell that hung in the front of the officer’s mess。
it was hard to see exactly who or what was in the craft； till he twiddled with the focus； and sabriel’s face leapt towards him； magnified up to a recognizable form； even at the current distance。 sabriel； the daughter of abhorsen； acpanied by an unknown man—or something wearing the shape of a man。 for a moment； horyse considered ordering the men to stand…down； but he could already hear hobnailed boots clattering on the duckboards； sergeants and corporals shouting—and it might not really be sabriel。 the sun was weakening； and the ing night would be the first of the full moon 。 。 。
“jorbert！” he snapped； handing the binoculars back to the surprised and unready subaltern。
“go and give the regimental sergeant…major my pliments； and ask him to personally organize a section of the scouts—we’ll go out and take a closer look at that aircraft。”
“oh； thank you； sir！” gushed lieutenant jorbert； obviously taking the “we” to include himself。 his enthusiasm surprised horyse； at least for a moment。
“tell me； mr。 jorbert；” he asked。 “have you by any chance sought a transfer to the flying corps？”
“well； yes； sir；” replied jorbert。 “eight times 。 。 。”
“just remember；” horyse said； interrupting him。 “that whatever is out there may be a flying creature； not a flying machine—and its pilots may be half…rotted things that should be properly dead； or free magic beings that have never really lived at all。 not fellow aviators； knights of the sky； or anything like that。”
jorbert nodded； unmilitarily； saluted； and turned on his heel。
“and don’t forget your sword next time you’re on duty； officer；” horyse called after him。
“hasn’t anyone told you your revolver might not work？”
jorbert nodded again； flushed； almost saluted； then scuttled off down the munication trench。 one of the soldiers in the forward observation post； a corporal with a full sleeve of chevrons denoting twenty years’ service； and a charter mark on his forehead to show his perimeter pedigree； shook his head at the departing back of the young officer。
“why are you shaking your head； corporal anshy？” snapped horyse； irked by his many interrupted shaves and this new and potentially dangerous appearance of an aircraft。
“water on the brain；” replied the corporal cheerfully—and rather ambiguously。 horyse opened his mouth to issue a sharp reprimand； then closed it as the corners of his mouth involuntarily inched up into a smile。 before he could actually laugh； he left the post； heading back to the trench junction where his section and the rsm would meet him to go beyond the wall。
within five paces； he’d lost his smile。
the paperwing slid to a perfect landing in a flurry of snow。 sabriel and touchstone sat in it； shivering under oilskin and boat cloak； respectively； then slowly levered themselves out to stand knee…deep in the tightly packed snow。
touchstone smiled at sabriel； his nose bright red and eyebrows frosted。
“we made it。”
“so far；” replied sabriel； warily looking around。 she could see the long grey bulk of the wall； with the deep honey…colored sun of autumn on the ancelstierran side。 here； the snow lay banked against the grey stone； and it was overcast； with the sun almost gone。 dark enough for the dead to be wandering around。
touchstone’s smile faded as he caught her mood； and he took his swords from the paperwing； giving the left sword to sabriel。 she sheathed it； but it was a bad fit—another reminder of loss。
“i’d better get the books； too；” she said； bending in to retrieve them from the cockpit。 the two charter magic books were fine； untouched by snow； but the book of the dead seemed wet。
when sabriel pulled it out； she found it wasn’t snow…wet。 beads of dark； thick blood were welling up out of its cover。 silently； sabriel wiped it on the hard crust of the snow； leaving a livid mark。 then she tucked the books away in the pockets of her coat。
“why 。 。 。 why was the book like that？” asked touchstone； trying； and almost succeeding； to sound curious rather than afraid。
“i think it’s reacting to the presence of many deaths；” sabriel replied。 “there is great potential here for the dead to rise。 this is a very weak point—”
“shhh！” touchstone interrupted her； pointing towards the wall。 shapes； dark against the snow； were moving in an extended line towards them； at a deliberate； steady pace。 they carried bows and spears； and sabriel； at least； recognized the rifles slung across their backs。
“it’s all right；” sabriel said； though a faint stab of nervousness touched her st