one replied.  o. I’ll never be free of my memories, oto do sometter ones. I need to . . . seek redemption. Besides, I am still a member of t is my duty.”

    “So be it,” said Sabriel. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

    “I am too—in a strange sort of oucone, and , but not quite, smiled.

    “I’m not,” interrupted Mogget, decidedly.

    “Let’s get on . e’re ing sunlight.”

    t opened easily to Sabriel’s spell, ter symbols of unlocking and opening flo t  to cast. Even up ones of t Cer exerted an influence t disrupted Cer Magic.

    t candleligeps, leading straigurns, just a straigair leading into darkness.

    Sabriel trod gingerly, feeling t stone crumble under s, so so keep ep. toucone close be from ing Sabriel’s seps in front, so sed and distorted, sliding into t.

    S, someep. A c cut into he impression of a cold expanse.

    teps ended in a door, rectangular  cone columns rose up like a forest to support a roof sixty feet above  stone, but er as cold and still as stone. Around ts of sunlig doerpoint to ting columns, leaving discs of liger. tudy of lig ter remained unknown, cloaked in heavy darkness.

    Sabriel felt toucone touchen she heard his whisper.

    “It’s about -deep. try and slip in as quietly as possible. ake your candle.”

    Sabriel nodded, passed t do step, before sloer.

    It  not unbearable. Despite Sabriel’s care, ripples spread out from er, and tiniest splas touctom, and sifled a gasp. Not from t  from tones of t