Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第25章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


tle　attention　to　spare　for　the　trees；　for　in　between　each　of　these　straggling　patches　of　greenery；　there　were　paved　areas—and　on　each　of　these　paved　areas　rested　a　ship。

fourteen　open…decked；　single…masted　longboats；　their　black　sails　set　to　catch　a　nonexistent　wind；　oars　out　to　battle　an　imaginary　tide。　they　flew　many　flags　and　standards；　all　limp　against　mast　and　rigging；　but　sabriel　didn’t　need　to　see　them　unfurled　to　know　what　strange　cargo　these　ships　might　bear。　she’d　heard　of　this　place；　as　had　every　child　in　the　northern　parts　of　ancelstierre；　close　to　the　old　kingdom。　hundreds　of　tales　of　treasure；　adventure　and　romance　were　woven　around　this　strange　harbor。

“funerary　ships；”　said　sabriel。　“royal　ships。”

she　had　further　confirmation　that　this　was　so；　for　there　were　binding　spells　woven　into　the　very　dirt　her　feet　scuffed　at　the　tunnel　entrance；　spells　of　final　death　that　could　only　have　been　laid　by　an　abhorsen。　no　necromancer　would　ever　raise　any　of　the　ancient　rulers　of　the　old　kingdom。

“the　famous　burial　ground　of　the　first　。　。　。

ckkk　。　。　。　the　kings　and　queens　of　the　old　kingdom；”　pronounced　mogget；　after　some　difficulty。

he　danced　around　sabriel’s　feet；　then　stood　on　his　hind　legs　and　made　expansive　gestures；　like　a　circus　impresario　in　white　fur。

finally；　he　shot　off　into　the　trees。

“e　on—there’s　a　spring；　spring；　spring！”　he　caroled；　as　he　leaped　up　and　down　in　time　with　his　words。

sabriel　followed　at　a　slower　pace；　shaking　her　head　and　wondering　what　had　happened　to　make　mogget　so　cheerful。　she　felt　bruised；　tired　and　depressed；　shaken　by　the　free　magic　monster；　and　sad　about　the　paperwing。

they　passed　close　by　two　of　the　ships　on　their　way　to　the　spring。　mogget　led　her　a　merry　dance　around　both　of　them；　in　a　mad　circumnavigation　of　twists；　leaps　and　bounds；　but　the　sides　were　too　high　to　look　in　and　she　didn’t　feel　like　shinning　up　an　oar。　she　did　pause　to　look　at　the　figureheads—　imposing　men；　one　in　his　forties；　the　other　somewhat　older。　both　were　bearded；　had　the　same　imperious　eyes；　and　wore　armor　similar　to　sabriel’s；　heavily　festooned　with　medallions；　chains　and　other　decorations。　each　held　a　sword　in　his　right　hand；　and　an　unfurling　scroll　that　　turned　back　on　itself　in　their　left—the　heraldic　representation　of　the　charter。

the　third　ship　was　different。　it　seemed　shorter　and　less　ornate；　with　a　bare　mast　devoid　of　black　sails。　no　oars　sprang　from　its　sides；　and　as　sabriel　reached　the　spring　that　lay　under　its　stern；　she　saw　uncaulked　seams　between　the　planking；　and　realized　that　it　was　inplete。

curious；　she　dropped　her　pack　by　the　little　pool　of　bubbling　water　and　walked　around　to　the　bow。

this　was　different　too；　for　the　figurehead　was　a　young　man—a　naked　young　man；　carved　in　perfect　detail。

sabriel　blushed　a　little；　for　it　was　an　exact　likeness；　as　if　a　young　man　had　been　transformed　from　flesh　to　wood；　and　her　only　prior　experience　of　naked　men　was　in　clinical　cross…sections　from　biology　textbooks。　his　muscles　were　lean　and　well…formed；　his　hair　short　and　tightly　curled　against　his　head。　his　hands；　well…shaped　and　elegant；　were　partly　raised；　as　if　to　ward　off　some　evil。

the　detail　even　extended　to　a　circumcised　penis；　which　sabriel　glanced　at　in　an　embarrassed　way；　before　looking　back　at　his　face。　he　was　not　exactly　handsome；　but　not　displeasing。

it　was　a　responsible　visage；　with　the　shocked　expression　of　someone　who　has　been　betrayed　and　only　just　realized　it。　there　was　fear　there；　too；　and　something　like　hatred。　he　looked　more　than　a　little　mad。　his　expression　troubled　her；　for　it　seemed　too　human　to　be　the　result　of　a　woodcarver’s　skill；　no　matter　how　talented。

“too　life…like；”　sabriel　muttered；　stepping　back　from　the　figurehead；　hand　falling　to　the　hilt　of　her　sword；　her　magical　senses　reaching　out；　seeking　some　trap　or　deception。

there　was　no　trap；　but　sabriel　did　feel　something　in　or　around　the　figurehead。　a　feeling　similar　to　that　of　a　dead　revenant；　but　not　the　same—　a　niggling　sensation　that　she　couldn’t　place。

sabriel　tried　to　identify　it；　while　she　looked　over　the　figurehead　again；　carefully　examining　him　from　every　angle。　the　man’s　body　was　an　intellectual　problem　now；　so　she　looked　without　embarrassment；　studying　his　fingers；　fingernails　and　skin；　noting　how　perfectly　they　were　carved；　right　down　to　the　tiny　scars　on　his　hands；　the　product　of　sword　and　dagger　practice。　there　was　also　the　faint　sign　of　a　baptismal　charter　mark　on　his　forehead；　and　the　pale　trace　of　veins　on　his　eyelids。

that　inspection　led　her　to　certainty　about　what　she’d　detected；　but　she　hesitated　about　the　action　that　should　be　taken；　and　went　in　search　of　mogget。　not　that　she　put　a　lot　of　faith　in　advice　or　answers　from　that　quarter；　given　his　present　propensity　towards　behaving　as　a　fairly　silly　cat—though　perhaps　this　was　a　reaction　to　his　brief　experience　of　being　a　free　magic　beast　again；　something　that　might　not　have　happened　for　a　millennium。　the　cat　form　was　probably　a　wele　relief。

in　fact；　no　advice　at　all　could　be　had　from　mogget。　sabriel　found　him　asleep　in　a　field　of　flowers　near　the　spring；　his　tail　and　paddy…paws　twitching　to　a　dream　of　dancing　mice。　sabriel　looked　at　the　straw…yellow　flowers；　sniffed　one；　scratched　mogget　behind　the　ears；　then　went　back　to　the　figurehead。　the　flowers　were　catbalm；　explaining　both　mogget’s　previous　mood　and　his　current　somnolence。　she　would　have　to　make　up　her　own　mind。

“so；”　she　said；　addressing　the　figurehead　like　a　lawyer　before　a　court。　“you　are　the　victim　of　some　free　magic　spell　and　necromantic　trickery。

your　spirit　lies　neither　in　life　nor　death；　but　somewhere　in　between。　i　could　cross　into　death；　　and　find　you　near　the　border；　i’m　sure—but　i　could　find　a　lot　of　trouble　as　well。　trouble　i　can’t　deal　with　in　my　current　pathetic　state。　so　what　can　i　do？　what　would　father—abhorsen　。　。　。　or　any　abhorsen—do　in　my　place？”

she　thought　about　it　for　a　while；　pacing　backwards　and　forwards；　bruises　temporarily　forgotten。

that　last　question　seemed　to　make　her　duty　clear。　sabriel　felt　sure　her　father　would　free　the　man。　that’s　what　he　did；　that　was　what　he　lived　for。　the　duty　of　an　abhorsen　was　to　remedy　unnatural　necromancy　and　free　magic　sorcery。

she　didn’t　think　further　than　that；　perhaps　due　to　the　injudicious　sniffing　of　the　catbalm。　she　didn’t　even　consider　that　her　father　would　probably　have　waited　until　he　was　fitter—perhaps　till　the　next　day。　after　all；　this　young　man　must　have　been　incarcerated　for　many　years；　his　physical　body　transformed　into　wood；　and　his　spirit　somehow　trapped　in　death。　a　few　days　would　make　no　difference　to　him。　an　abhorsen　didn’t　have　to　immediately　take　on　any　duty　that　presented　itself　。　。　。

but　for　the　first　time　since　she’d　crossed　the　　wall；　sabriel　felt　there　was　a　clear…cut　problem　for　her　to　solve。　an　injustice　to　be　righted　and　one　that　should　involve　little　more　than　a　few　minutes　on　the　very　border　of　death。

some　slight　sense　of　caution　remained　with　her；　so　she　went　and　picked　up　mogget；　placing　the　dozing　cat　near　the　feet　of　the　figurehead。

hopefully；　he　would　wake　up　if　any　physical　danger　threatened—not　that　this　was　likely；　given　the　wards　and　guards　on　the　sinkhole。

there　were　even　barriers　that　would　make　it　difficult　to　cross　into　death；　and　more　than　difficult　for　something　dead　to　follow　her　back。　all　in　all；　it　seemed　like　the　perfect　place　to　undertake　a　minor　rescue。

once　more；　she　checked　the　bells；　running　her　hands　over　the　smooth　wood　of　the　handles；　feeling　their　voices　within；　eagerly　awaiting　release。

this　time；　it　was　ranna　she　freed　from　its　leather　case。　it　was　the　least　noticeable　of　the　bells；　its　very　nature　lulling　listeners；　beguiling　them　to　sleep　or　inattention。

second　thoughts　brushed　at　her　like　doubting　fingers；　but　she　ignored　them。　she　felt　confident；　ready　for　what　would　only　be　a　minor　stroll　in　death；　amply　safeguarded　by　the　protections　of　　this　royal　necropolis。　sword　in　one　hand；　bell　in　the　other；　she　crossed　into　death。

cold　hit　her；　and　the　relentless　current；　but　she　stood　where　she　was；　still　feeling　the　warmth　of　life　on　her　back。　this　was　the　very　interface　between　the　two　realms；　where　she　would　normally　plunge　ahead。　this　time；　she　planted　her　feet　against　the　current；　and　used　her　continuing　slight　contact　with　life　as　an　anchor　to　hold　her　own　against　the　waters　of　death。

everything　seemed　quiet；　save　for　the　constant　gurgling　of　the　water　about　her　feet；　and　the　faroff　crash　of　the　first　gate。　nothing　stirred；　no　shapes　loomed　up　in　the　grey　light。　cautiously；　sabriel　used　her　sense　of　the　dead　to　feel　out　anything　that　might　be　lurking；　to　feel　the　slight　spark　of　the　trapped；　but　living；　spirit　of　the　young　man。　back　in　life；　she　was　physically　close　to　him；　so　she　should　be　near　his　spirit　here。

there　was　something；　but　it　seemed　further　into　death　than　sabriel　expected。　she　tried　to　see　it；　squinting　into　the　curious　greyness　that　made　distance　impossible　to　judge；　but　nothing　was　visible。　whatever　was　there　lurked　beneath　the　surface　of　the　water。

sabriel　hesitated；　then　walked　towards　it；　carefully　feeling　her　way；　making　sure　of　eve