urely t of reference, o parts of Ancelstierre wo her.

    But ture still moved slo a   turned off ted . A nice  enougo be sure, covered by a cork tree plantation, e old trees. Its only point of interest angular cairn upon top . . . tones, square-cut and tigogetively recent folly, Sabriel remembered from tory lessons. A little less ted it once, but something had changed her mind . . .

    tone, doar, zigzagging around to t its . For an instant t completely dark, t came. A bronze sarcopal craer marks. ting marks, penetrated thed in Free Magic.

    ted, moving y to t so focus, a face t s Kerrigor once ures clearly s oucone.

    Sabriel stared, sickened and fascinated by ties beto greyness, greyness accompanied by ruser. Death.

    Sometrous  t, a jagged cutting of darkness, formless and featureless, save for t burned ural flame. It seemed to see orm clouds reaching forward.

    “Ab!” screamed Kerrigor. “Your blood will gusones . . .”

    to come t suddenly, to a pile of s-melting slush.

    “You saoget  a question. Sabriel nodded, ss still on t on t led to tion known as Kerrigor? “e es,” announced Sanar.

    “till t to your Paperwing, shall we?”

    “Yes, please,” replied Sabriel. Despite t of Kerrigor’s ra form, te sense of purpose. Kerrigor’s body ierre. S and destroy it, and t. But to get to t . . .

    ted toucone up, grunting . ime, and noer from  te to manage well enough.

    “e o tening we and blue below.

    “Cousin?” Sabriel murmur