owards .

    Sreaks of silver, plated onto tten Cer symbols, and understood. to kill t  her own side.

    ted—an officer, Sabriel realized—bent down and picked up s.

    udied t, t Sabriel. ure of  Sabriel found familiar, t place it—till sher’s eyes.

    Ab they held a similar feeling.

    t, tucked it in  and tilted  back ill gloiously, Sabriel lifted  dissuade   o toucouc to some endless galaxy of stars. But tars er symbols, linked in some great dance t  contained and described ts movement. Sabriel kneion of t s t ty of ter wash over her.

    “An unsullied Cer mark,” to ture or sending.”

    ty catc move, ill staring at Sabriel, as if  .

    “S back to tranger ime ay clear of t stay alive! “So,” aking ts from  and o Sabriel. “You are  ter of Ab of t to call ter Reconaissance Unit and everyone else calls t Scouts—a someley collection of Ancelstierrans wo gain a Cer mark and some small knowledge of magic.”

    “Pleased to meet you, sir,” popped out of Sabriel’s scrained moutifle it. A sc a blush rise in her pale cheeks.

    “Likehe Colonel, bending down.

    “May I take your skis?”

    “If you y.

    tied tocks to tened t ucked t under one muscular arm.

    “I take it you intend to cross into t of ed at t sign on to cer ies, but it s take long.

    Is someone . . . Abo meet you?”

    ered a little as ioned Abrange stutter in so confident a man. Sabriel glanced at

    to t.

    Obviously  a necromancer, but anyone whe bells