The last blocks came away slowly, pulled out by sweating, white-faced men, their hands and legs shivering, breath ragged. As soon as the way was clear, they staggered back, away from the , seeking patches of sunlight to bat the dreadful chill that seemed to eat at their bones. One soldier, a dapper man with a white-blond moustache, fell down the hill, and lay retg, till stretcher-bearers ran up to take him away.
Sabriel looked at the dark hole in the , and saw the faint, uling sheen from the bronze sarcophagus within. She felt sick too, with the hair on the back of her neck frizzing up, skin crawling. The air seemed thick with the reek of Free Magic, a hard, metallic taste in her mouth.
「We will have to spell it open,」 she announced, with a sinki. 「The sarcophagus is very strongly protected. I think . . . the best thing would be if I go in with Touchstoaking my hand, Horyse his, and so on, to form a line reinfort of the Charter Magic. Does everyone know the Charter marks for the opening spell?」
The soldiers nodded, or said, 「Yes, ma』am.」
One said, 「Yes, Abhorsen.」
Sabriel looked at him. A middle-aged corporal, with the chevrons of long servi his sleeve. He seemed one of the least affected by the Free Magic.
「You call me Sabriel, if you want,」 she said, strangely uled by what he had called her.
The corporal shook his head. 「No, Miss. I knew your dad. You』re just like him. The Abhorsen, now. You』ll make this Dead bugger— begging your pardon—wish he』d stayed properly bloody dead.」
「Thank you,」 Sabriel replied, uainly.
She khe corporal didn』t have the Sight— you could always tell—but his belief in her was so crete . . .
「He』s right,」 said Touchstone. He gestured for her to go in front of him, making a courtly bow.
「Let』s finish what we came to do, Abhorsen.」
Sabriel bowed back, in a motion that had almost the feel of ritual about it. The Abhorsen bowing to the King. Theook a deep breath, her face settling into a determined mold.
Beginning to form the Charter marks of opening in her mind, she took Touchstone』s hand and advaowards the open , its dark, shadowy interior in stark trast with the sunlit thistles and the tumbled stones. Behiouchstone half-turo take Horyse』s calloused hand as well, the el』s other hand already gripping Lieutenant Aire』s, Aire gripping a Sergeant』s, the Sergeant the long-service Corporal』s, and so on down the hillside. Fourteen Charter Mages in all, if only two of the first rank.
Sabriel felt the Charter Magic welling up the lihe marks glowing brighter and brighter in her mind, till she almost lost her normal vision in their brilliance. She shuffled forwards into the , each step bringing that all-too-familiar he pins and needles, untrollable shaking. But the marks were strong in her mind, strohan the siess.
She reached the bronze sarcophagus, slapped her hand down ahe Charter Magic go.
Instantly, there was an explosion of light, and a terrible scream echoed all through the . The bronze grew hot, and Sabriel snatched back her hand, the palm red and blistered. A sed later, steam billowed out all around the sarcophagus, great gouts of scalding steam, f Sabriel out, the whole line going down like domiumbling out of the and down the hill.
Sabriel and Touchstohrown together, about five yards down from the entrao the . Somehow, Sabriel』s head had landed on Touchstone』s stomach. His head was on a thistle, but both of th