Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第19章

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it　had　been　a　simple　enough　summoning。

mogget　had　taken　her　to　the　cellar　and　then　down　a　winding；　narrow　stair；　that　grew　colder　and　colder　as　they　descended。　finally；　they　　reached　a　strange　grotto；　where　icicles　hung　and　sabriel’s　breath　blew　clouds　of　white；　but　it　was　no　longer　cold；　or　perhaps　so　cold　she　no　longer　felt　it。　a　block　of　pure；　blue…white　ice　stood　upon　a　stone　pedestal；　both　limned　with　charter　marks；　marks　strange　and　beautiful。

then；　following　mogget’s　instruction；　she’d　simply　placed　her　hand　on　the　ice；　and　said；　“abhorsen　pays　her　respects　to　the　clayr；　and　requests　the　gift　of　water。”　that　was　all。　they’d　gone　back　up　the　stairs；　a　sending　locked　the　cellar　door　behind　them；　and　another　brought　sabriel　a　nightshirt　and　a　cup　of　hot　chocolate。

but　that　simple　ceremony　had　summoned　something　that　seemed　totally　out　of　control。

sabriel　watched　the　wave　racing　towards　them；　trying　to　calm　herself；　but　her　breath　raced　in　and　out　as　quickly　as　her　stomach　flipped　over。

just　as　the　wave　hit；　she　screamed　and　ducked　under　the　telescope。

the　whole　tower　shook；　stones　screeching　as　they　moved；　and　for　a　moment；　even　the　sound　of　the　waterfall　was　lost　in　a　crack　that　sounded　as　if　the　island　had　been　leveled　by　the　first　shock　of　the　wave。

but；　after　a　few　seconds；　the　floor　stopped　　shaking；　and　the　crash　of　the　flood　subsided　to　a　controlled　roar；　like　a　shouting　drunk　made　aware　of　pany。　sabriel　hauled　herself　up　the　tripod　and　opened　her　eyes。

the　walls　had　held；　and　though　now　the　wave　was　past；　the　river　still　raged　a　mere　handspan　below　the　island’s　defenses　and　was　almost　up　to　the　tunnel　doors　on　either　bank。

there　was　no　sign　of　the　stepping…stones；　the　coffin　bridge；　the　dead；　or　any　people—just　a　wide；　brown　rushing　torrent；　carrying　debris　of　all　descriptions。　trees；　bushes；　parts　of　buildings；　livestock；　chunks　of　ice—the　flood　had　claimed　its　tribute　from　every　riverbank　for　hundreds　of　miles。

sabriel　looked　at　this　evidence　of　destruction　and　inwardly　counted　the　number　of　villagers　who　had　died　on　the　grave　boxes。　who　knew　how　many　other　lives　had　been　lost；　or　livelihoods　threatened；　upstream？　part　of　her　tried　to　rationalize　her　use　of　the　flood；　telling　her　that　she　had　to　do　it　in　order　to　fight　on　against　the　dead。　another　part　said　she　had　simply　summoned　the　flood　to　save　herself。

mogget　had　no　time　for　such　introspection；　mourning　or　pangs　of　responsibility。　he　left　　her　watching；　blank…eyed；　for　no　more　than　a　minute；　before　padding　forward　and　delicately　inserting　his　claws　in　sabriel’s　slippered　foot。

“ow！　what　did　you—”

“there’s　no　time　to　waste　sightseeing；”

mogget　said。　“the　sendings　are　readying　the　paperwing　on　the　eastern　wall。　and　your　clothing　and　gear　have　been　ready　for　at　least　half　an　hour。”

“i’ve　got　all　。　。　。”　sabriel　began；　then　she　remembered　that　her　pack　and　skis　lay　at　the　bottom　end　of　the　entrance　tunnel；　probably　as　a　pile　of　mordicant…burned　ash。

“the　sendings　have　got　everything　you’ll　need；　and　a　few　things　you　won’t；　knowing　them。

you　can　get　dressed；　pack　up；　and　head　off　for　belisaere。　i　take　it　you　intend　to　go　to　belisaere？”

“yes；”　replied　sabriel　shortly。　she　could　detect　a　tone　of　smugness　in　mogget’s　voice。

“do　you　know　how　to　get　there？”

sabriel　was　silent。　mogget　already　knew　the　answer　was　“no。”　hence　the　smugness。

“do　you　have　a　。　。　。　er　。　。　。　map？”

sabriel　shook　her　head；　clenching　her　fists　as　she　did　so；　resisting　the　urge　to　lean　forward　and　spank　mogget；　or　perhaps　give　his　tail　a　　judicious　tug。　she　had　searched　the　study　and　asked　several　of　the　sendings；　but　the　only　map　in　the　house　seemed　to　be　the　starmap　in　the　tower。　the　map　colonel　horyse　had　told　her　about　must　still　be　with　abhorsen。　with　father；　sabriel　thought；　suddenly　confused　about　their　identities。　if　she　was　now　abhorsen；　who　was　her　father？　had　he　too　once　had　a　name　that　was　lost　in　the　responsibility　of　being　abhorsen？　everything　that　had　seemed　so　certain　and　solid　in　her　life　a　few　days　ago　was　crumbling。　she　didn’t　even　know　who　she　was　really；　and　trouble　seemed　to　beset　her　from　all　sides—even　a　supposed　servant　of　abhorsen　like　mogget　seemed　to　provide　more　trouble　than　service。

“do　you　have　anything　positive　to　say—anything　that　might　actually　help？”　she　snapped。

mogget　yawned；　showing　a　pink　tongue　that　seemed　to　contain　the　very　essence　of　scorn。

“well；　yes。　of　course。　i　know　the　way；　so　i’d　better　e　with　you。”

“e　with　me？”　sabriel　asked；　genuinely　surprised。　she　unclenched　her　fists；　bent　down；　and　scratched　between　the　cat’s　ears；　till　he　ducked　away。

“someone　has　to　look　after　you；”　mogget　　added。　“at　least　till　you’ve　grown　into　a　real　abhorsen。”

“thank　you；”　said　sabriel。　“i　think。　but　i　would　still　like　a　map。　since　you　know　the　country　so　well；　would　it　be　possible　for　you　to—i　don’t　know—describe　it；　so　i　can　make　a　sketch　map　or　something？”

mogget　coughed；　as　if　a　hairball　had　suddenly　lodged　in　his　throat；　and　thrust　his　head　back　a　little。　“you！　draw　a　sketch　map？　if　you　must　have　one；　i　think　it　would　be　better　if　i　undertook　the　cartography　myself。　e　down　to　the　study　and　put　out　an　inkwell　and　paper。”

“as　long　as　i　get　a　useable　map　i　don’t　care　who　draws　it；”　sabriel　remarked；　as　she　went　backwards　down　the　ladder。　she　tilted　her　head　to　watch　how　mogget　came　down；　but　there　was　only　the　open　trapdoor。　a　sarcastic　meow　under　her　feet　announced　that　mogget　had　once　again　managed　to　get　between　rooms　without　visible　means　of　support。

“ink　and　paper；”　the　cat　reminded　her；　jumping　up　onto　the　dragon　desk。　“the　thick　paper。

smooth　side　up。　don’t　bother　with　a　quill。”

sabriel　followed　mogget’s　instructions；　then　watched　with　a　resigned　condescension　that　　rapidly　changed　to　surprise　as　the　cat　crouched　by　the　square　of　paper；　his　strange　shadow　falling　on　it　like　a　dark　cloak　thrown　across　sand；　pink　tongue　out　in　concentration。　mogget　seemed　to　think　for　a　moment；　then　one　bright　ivory　claw　shot　out　from　a　white　pad—he　delicately　inked　the　claw　in　the　inkwell；　and　began　to　draw。　first；　a　rough　outline；　in　swift；　bold　strokes；　the　penning　in　of　the　major　geographical　features；　then　the　delicate　process　of　adding　important　sites；　each　named　in　fine；　spidery　writing。　last　of　all；　mogget　marked　abhorsen’s　house　with　a　small　illustration；　before　leaning　back　to　admire　his　handiwork；　and　lick　the　ink　from　his　paw。　sabriel　waited　a　few　seconds　to　be　sure　he　was　done；　then　cast　drying　sand　over　the　paper；　her　eyes　trying　to　absorb　every　detail；　intent　on　learning　the　physical　face　of　the　old　kingdom。

“you　can　look　at　it　later；”　mogget　said　after　a　few　minutes；　when　his　paw　was　clean；　but　sabriel　was　still　bent　over　the　table；　nose　inches　from　the　map。　“we’re　still　in　a　hurry。　you’d　better　go　and　get　dressed；　for　a　start。　do　try　to　be　quick。”

“i　will。”　sabriel　smiled；　still　looking　at　the　map。　“thank　you；　mogget。”

the　sendings　had　laid　out　a　great　pile　of　clothes　and　equipment　in　sabriel’s　room；　and　four　of　them　were　in　attendance　to　help　her　get　everything　on　and　organized。　she　had　hardly　stepped　inside　before　they’d　stripped　her　indoor　dress　and　slippers　off；　and　she’d　only　just　managed　to　remove　her　own　underclothes　before　ghostly　charter…traced　hands　tickled　her　sides。

a　few　seconds　later；　she　was　suffering　them　anyway；　as　they　pulled　a　thin；　cotton…like　undergarment　over　her　head；　and　a　pair　of　baggy　drawers　up　her　legs。　next　came　a　linen　shirt；　then　a　tunic　of　doeskin　and　breeches　of　supple　leather；　reinforced　with　some　sort　of　hard；　segmented　plates　at　thighs；　knees　and　shins；　not　to　mention　a　heavily　padded　bottom；　no　doubt　designed　for　riding。

a　brief　respite　followed；　lulling　sabriel　into　thinking　that　might　be　it；　but　the　sendings　had　merely　been　arranging　the　next　layer　for　immediate　fitting。　two　of　them　pushed　her　arms　into　a　long；　armored　coat　that　buckled　up　at　the　sides；　while　the　other　two　unlaced　a　pair　of　hobnailed　boots　and　waited。

the　coat　wasn’t　like　anything　sabriel　had　ever　worn　before；　including　the　mail　hauberk　she’d　worn　in　fighting　arts　lessons　at　school。　it　was　as　long　as　an　hauberk；　with　split　skirts　ing　down　to　her　knees　and　sleeves　swallowtailed　at　her　wrists；　but　it　seemed　to　be　entirely　made　of　tiny　overlapping　plates；　much　like　a　fish’s　scales。　they　weren’t　metal；　either；　but　some　sort　of　ceramic；　or　even　stone。　much　lighter　than　steel；　but　clearly　very　strong；　as　one　sending　demonstrated；　by　cutting　down　it　with　a　dagger；　striking　sparks　without　leaving　a　scratch。

sabriel　thought　the　boots　pleted　the　ensemble；　but　as　the　laces　were　done　up　by　one　pair　of　sendings；　the　other　pair　were　back　in　action。　one　raised　what　appeared　to　be　a　blue　and　silver　striped　turban；　but　sabriel；　pulling　it　down　to　just　above　her　eyebrows；　found　it　to　be　a　cloth…wrapped　helmet；　made　from　the　same　material　as　the　armor。

the　other　sending　waved　out　a　gleaming；　deep　blue　surcoat；　dusted　with　embroidered　silver　keys　that　reflected　the　light　in　all　directions。　it　waved　the　coat　to　and　fro　for　a　moment；　then　whipped　it　over　sabriel’s　head　and　adjusted　th