“It probably  be a long  for you,” sime moves strangely in Deat back in too, so you and Mogget should leave . . .”

    “I’ll be ing,” replied toucone firmly.

    “ time it is down here anyway?”

    “And I’ll , it seems,” added Mogget.

    “Unless I  to s of . May ter be h you, Sabriel.”

    “And ill couldn’t sense any of t t . . .

    “e’ll need it to be  replied sourly. “One her.”

    “I ,”  turned to face tarted to raise ions to enter Death.

    Suddenly, toucone slos almost  t rathan her cheek.

    “For luck,” toucone said nervously.

    “Sabriel.”

    So t tionless form. A second later, ice crystals began to crack out of  ran in lines dohe sword and bell.

    toucone cill it greoo cold, treated to tice of turned outed to er-fire as if rolling ttlements of a castle.

    Mogget coo, from  ernal luminescence.

    Boten turned to gaze at Sabriel.

    to Deatoo easy—by tones.

    Sabriel felt tes, proclaiming easy entry to Life for any   Dead nearby. Fortunately, t of tones—tug of the river.

    Sabriel started forely, carefully scanning t t in ters. But notoacked, save tant t.

    So t Gate, ing just beyond t t stretc as far as so eit mist, turbulent rapids going to t, and on to te.

    Remembering pages from t seetongue h raw power.

    t parted, revealing a series of erfalls t appeared to drop into an unending blackness. Sabriel spoke some more ured to t and left h her sword.

    A pating terfall like a