Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第16章

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raced　through；　with　a　cry　that　sabriel　thought　was　“dinner！”　she　followed；　rather　more　sedately；　the　sending　closing　the　door　behind　her。

dinner　was　in　the　main　hall　of　the　house。　a　long；　stately　room　that　took　up　half　the　ground　floor；　it　was　dominated　by　the　floor　to　ceiling　stained…glass　window　at　the　western　end。　the　window　showed　a　scene　from　the　building　of　the　wall　and；　like　many　other　things　around　the　house；　was　heavily　laden　with　charter　magic。

perhaps　there　was　no　real　glass　in　it　at　all；　sabriel　mused；　as　she　watched　the　light　of　the　evening　sun　play　in　and　around　the　toiling　figures　that　were　building　the　wall。　as　with　the　sendings；　if　you　looked　closely　enough　you　could　see　tiny　charter　marks　making　up　the　patterns。

it　was　hard　to　see　through　the　window；　but　judging　from　the　sun；　it　was　almost　dusk。　sabriel　realized　she　must　have　slept　for　a　full　day；　or　possibly　even　two。

a　table　nearly　as　long　as　the　hall　stretched　away　from　her—a　brightly　polished　table　of　　some　light　and　lustrous　timber；　heavily　laden　with　silver　salt　cellars；　candelabra　and　rather　fantastic…looking　decanters　and　covered　dishes。

but　only　two　places　were　fully　set；　with　a　plethora　of　knives；　forks；　spoons　and　other　instruments；　which　sabriel　only　recognized　from　obscure　drawings　in　her　etiquette　textbook。

she’d　never　seen　a　real　golden　straw　for　sucking　the　innards　out　of　a　pomegranate　before；　for　example。

one　place　was　before　a　high…backed　chair　at　the　head　of　the　table　and　the　other　was　to　the　left　of　this；　in　front　of　a　cushioned　stool。　sabriel　wondered　which　was　hers；　till　mogget　jumped　up　on　the　stool　and　said；　“e　on！　they　won’t　serve　till　you’re　seated。”

“they”　were　more　sendings。　half　a　dozen　in　all；　including　the　cream…dressed　tyrant　of　the　bedroom。　they　were　all　basically　the　same；　human　in　shape；　but　cowled　or　veiled。　only　their　hands　were　visible；　and　these　were　almost　transparent；　as　if　charter　marks　had　been　lightly　etched　on　prosthetic　hands　carved　from　moonstone。

the　sendings　stood　grouped　around　a　door—the　kitchen　door；　for　sabriel　saw　fires　beyond　them；　and　smelled　the　tang　of　cooking—　　and　stared　at　her。　it　was　rather　unnerving；　not　to　meet　any　eyes。

“yes；　that’s　her；”　mogget　said　caustically。

“your　new　mistress。　now　let’s　have　dinner。”

none　of　the　sendings　moved；　till　sabriel　stepped　forward。　they　stepped　forward；　too；　and　all　dropped　to　one　knee；　or　whatever　supported　them　beneath　the　floor…length　robes。　each　held　out　their　pale　right　hand；　charter　marks　running　bright　trails　around　their　palms　and　fingers。

sabriel　stared　for　a　moment；　but　it　was　clear　they　offered　their　services；　or　loyalty；　and　expected　her　to　do　something　in　return。　she　walked　to　them　and　gently　pressed　each　upthrust　hand　in　turn；　feeling　the　charter…spells　that　made　them　whole。　mogget　had　spoken　truly；　for　some　of　the　spells　were　old；　far　older　than　sabriel　could　guess。

“i　thank　you；”　she　said　slowly。　“on　behalf　of　my　father；　and　for　the　kindness　you　have　shown　me。”

this　seemed　to　be　appropriate；　or　enough　to　be　going　on　with。　the　sendings　stood；　bowed　and　went　about　their　business。　the　one　in　the　cream　habit　pulled　out　sabriel’s　chair　and　placed　her　napkin　as　she　sat。　it　was　of　crisp　black　linen；　　dusted　with　tiny　silver　keys；　a　miracle　of　needlework。

mogget；　sabriel　noticed；　had　a　plain　white　napkin；　with　evidence　of　old　stains。

“i’ve　had　to　eat　in　the　kitchen　for　the　last　two　weeks；”　mogget　said　sourly；　as　two　sendings　approached　from　the　kitchen；　bearing　plates　that　signaled　their　arrival　with　a　tantalizing　odor　of　spices　and　hot　food。

“i　expect　it　was　good　for　you；”　sabriel　replied　brightly；　taking　a　mouthful　of　wine。　it　was　a　fruity；　dry　white　wine；　though　sabriel　hadn’t　developed　a　palate　to　know　whether　it　was　good　or　merely　indifferent。　it　was　certainly　drinkable。

her　first　major　experiments　with　alcohol　lay　several　years　behind　her；　enshrined　in　memory　as　significant　occasions　shared　with　two　of　her　closest　friends。　none　of　the　three　could　ever　drink　brandy　again；　but　sabriel　had　started　to　enjoy　wine　with　her　meals。

“anyway；　how　did　you　know　i　was　ing？”

sabriel　asked。　“i　didn’t　know　myself；　till　。　。　。　till　father　sent　his　message。”

the　cat　didn’t　answer　at　once；　his　attention　focused　on　the　plate　of　fish　the　sending　had　just　put　down—small；　almost　circular　fish；　with　the　bright　eyes　and　shiny　scales　of　the　freshly　caught。

sabriel　had　them　too；　but　hers　were　grilled；　with　a　tomato；　garlic　and　basil　sauce。

“i　have　served　ten　times　as　many　of　your　forebears　as　you　have　years；”　mogget　replied　at　last。

“and　though　my　powers　wane　with　the　ebb　of　time；　i　always　know　when　one　abhorsen　falls　and　another　takes　their　place。”

sabriel　swallowed　her　last　mouthful；　all　taste　gone；　and　put　down　her　fork。　she　took　a　mouthful　of　wine　to　clear　her　throat；　but　it　seemed　to　have　bee　vinegar；　making　her　cough。

“what　do　you　mean　by　‘fall’？　what　do　you　know？　what　has　happened　to　father？”

mogget　looked　up　at　sabriel；　eyes　half…lidded；　meeting　her　gaze　steadily；　as　no　normal　cat　could。

“he　is　dead；　sabriel。　even　if　he　hasn’t　passed　the　final　gate；　he　will　walk　in　life　no　more。　that　is—”

“no；”　interrupted　sabriel。　“he　can’t　be！　he　cannot　be。　he　is　a　necromancer　。　。　。　he　can’t　be　dead　。　。　。”

“that　is　why　he　sent　the　sword　and　bells　to　you；　as　his　aunt　sent　them　to　him；　in　her　time；”

mogget　continued；　ignoring　sabriel’s　outburst。

“and　he　was　not　a　necromancer；　he　was　abhorsen。”

“i　don’t　understand；”　sabriel　whispered。　she　couldn’t　face　mogget’s　eyes　anymore。　“i　don’t　know　。　。　。　i　don’t　know　enough。　about　anything。

the　old　kingdom；　charter　magic；　even　my　own　father。　why　do　you　say　his　name　as　if　it　were　a　title？”

“it　is。　he　was　the　abhorsen。　now　you　are。”

sabriel　digested　this　in　silence；　staring　at　the　swirls　of　fish　and　sauce　on　her　plate；　silver　scales　and　red　tomato　blurring　into　a　pattern　of　swords　and　fire。　the　table　blurred　too；　and　the　room　beyond；　and　she　felt　herself　reaching　for　the　border　with　death。　but　try　as　she　might；　she　couldn’t　cross　it。　she　sensed　it；　but　there　was　no　way　to　cross；　in　either　direction—abhorsen’s　house　was　too　well　protected。　but　she　did　feel　something　at　the　border。　inimical　things　lurked　there；　waiting　for　her　to　cross；　but　there　was　also　the　faintest　thread　of　something　familiar；　like　the　scent　of　a　woman’s　perfume　after　she　has　left　the　room；　or　the　waft　of　a　particular　pipe　tobacco　around　a　corner。　sabriel　focused　on　it　and　threw　herself　once　more　at　the　barrier　that　separated　her　from　death。

only　to　ricochet　back　to　life；　as　sharp　claws　pricked　her　arm。　her　eyes　snapped　open；　blinking　off　flakes　of　frost；　to　see　mogget；　fur　bristling；　one　paw　ready　to　strike　again。

“fool！”　he　hissed。　“you　are　the　only　one　who　can　break　the　wards　of　this　house　and　they　wait　for　you　to　do　so！”

sabriel　stared　at　the　angry　cat；　unseeing；　biting　back　a　sharp　and　proud　retort　as　she　realized　the　truth　in　mogget’s　words。　there　were　dead　spirits　waiting；　and　probably　the　mordicant　would　cross　as　well—and　she　would　have　faced　them　alone　and　weaponless。

“i’m　sorry；”　she　muttered；　bowing　her　head　into　two　frosted　hands。　she　hadn’t　felt　this　stupidly　awful　since　she’d　burned　one　of　the　headmistress’s　rose　bushes　with　an　uncontrolled　charter…spell；　narrowly　missing　the　school’s　ancient　and　much…loved　gardener。　she　had　cried　then；　but　she　was　older　now；　and　could　keep　the　tears　at　bay。

“father　is　not　yet　truly　dead；”　she　said；　after　a　moment。　“i　felt　his　presence；　though　he　is　trapped　beyond　many　gates。　i　could　bring　him　back。”

“you　must　not；”　said　mogget　firmly；　and　his　voice　now　seemed　to　carry　all　the　weight　of　centuries。

“you　are　abhorsen；　and　must　put　the　dead　to　rest。　your　path　is　chosen。”

“i　can　walk　a　different　path；”　sabriel　replied　firmly；　raising　her　head。

mogget　seemed　about　to　protest　again；　then　he　laughed—a　sardonic　laugh—and　jumped　back　to　his　stool。

“do　as　you　will；”　he　said。　“why　should　i　gainsay　you？　i　am　but　a　slave；　bound　to　service。　why　would　i　weep　if　abhorsen　falls　to　evil？　it　is　your　father　who　would　curse　you；　and　your　mother　too—and　the　dead　who　will　be　merry。”

“i　don’t　think　he’s　dead；”　sabriel　said；　bright　blushes　of　withheld　emotion　in　her　pallid　cheeks；　frost　melting；　trickling　down　around　her　face。

“his　spirit　felt　alive。　he　is　trapped　in　death；　i　think；　but　his　body　lives。　would　i　still　be　reviled　if　i　brought　him　back　then？”

“no；”　said　mogget；　calm　again。　“but　he　has　sent　the　sword　and　bells。　you　are　only　wishing　that　he　lives。”

“i　feel　it；”　sabriel　said　simply。　“and　i　must　find　out　if　my　feeling　is　true。”

“perhaps　it　is　so—though　strange。”　mogget　seemed　to　be　musing　to　himself；　his　voice　a　soft　half…purr。　“i　have　grown　dull。　this　collar　strangles　me；　chokes　my　wits　。　。　。”

“help　me；　mogget；”　sabriel　suddenly　pleaded；　　reaching　over　to　touch　her　hand　to　the　cat’s　head；　scratching　under　the　collar。　“i　need　to　know—i　need　to　know　so　much！”

mogget　purred　under　the　scratching；　but　as　sabriel　leaned　close；　she　could　hear　the　faint　peal　of　the　tiny　saraneth　bel