er still—and  out.

    tly, but Sabriel set  against t and ignored bot and trating on looking around, alert for a trap or ambus  at ticular entry point to Deater tumbling te, but notrange mewlings.

    No dark, formless stes, s.

    Carefully ion, Sabriel looked all around o one of ts in ayed ready in  , s a paper boat and, still one- out to its proper sifully  luminous in t, it ly round stain at its boed a drop of blood from her finger.

    Sabriel laid it flat on ed it to  as if s fle launc  so breat breasted a ripple, rigself and surged a. In a fe  of sige.

    It ime in  Sabriel  suc. o make t o use to be paid, a price mucer than a drop of blood.

    As events s time, Sabriel kneo expect. Still, illed for a moment some ten or ty, or forty, minutes later—time being slippery in Deats clapper free, ing to be e illed because someone . . . someth.

    Sabriel  ed .