Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第34章

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al　flesh　slipping　up　his　blades　almost　to　the　cross…hilts。　then；　it　slid　back　down　again—and　vanished。　back　into　death；　to　bob　and　spin　in　the　current；　howling　and　screaming　with　whatever　voice　it　had　there；　all　the　way　　through　to　the　final　gate。

“thanks；”　sabriel　said　to　touchstone。　she　looked　down　at　his　two　swords；　still　deeply　embedded　in　the　wooden　floor。　they　were　no　longer　burning　with　silver　flames；　but　she　could　see　the　charter　marks　moving　on　the　blades。

“i　didn’t　realize　your　swords　were　ensorcelled；”

she　continued。　“though　i’m　glad　they　are。”

surprise　crossed　touchstone’s　face；　and　confusion。

“i　thought　you　knew；”　he　said。　“i　took　them　from　the　queen’s　ship。　they　were　a　royal　champion’s　swords。　i　didn’t　want　to　take　them；　but　mogget　said　you—”

he　stopped　in　mid…sentence；　as　sabriel　let　out　a　heartfelt　sigh。

“well；　anyway；”　he　continued。　“legend　has　it　that　the　wallmaker　made　them；　at　the　same　time　he—or　she；　i　suppose—made　your　sword。”

“mine？”　asked　sabriel；　her　hand　lightly　touching　the　worn　bronze　of　the　guard。　she’d　never　thought　about　who’d　made　the　sword—it　just　was。　“i　was　made　for　abhorsen；　to　slay　those　already　dead；”　the　inscription　said；　when　it　said　anything　lucid　at　all。　so　it　probably　was　forged　long　ago；　back　in　the　distant　past　when　the　wall　　was　made。　mogget　would　know；　she　thought。

mogget　probably　wouldn’t；　or　couldn’t；　tell　her—but　he　would　know。

“i　suppose　we’d　better　wake　everybody　up；”

she　said；　dismissing　speculation　about　swords　for　the　immediate　present。

“are　there　more　dead？”　asked　touchstone；　grunting　as　he　pulled　his　swords　free　of　the　floor。

“i　don’t　think　so；”　replied　sabriel。　“that　mordaut　was　very　clever；　for　it　had　hardly　sapped　the　spirit　of　poor　。　。　。　patar　。　。　。　so　its　presence　was　masked　by　his　life。　it　would　have　e　to　the　island　in　that　box　of　grave　dirt；　having　impressed　the　poor　man　with　instructions　before　they　left　the　mainland。　i　doubt　whether　any　others　would　have　done　the　same。　i　can’t　sense　any　here；　at　least。　i　guess　i　should　check　the　other　buildings；　and　walk　around　the　island；　just　to　be　sure。”

“now？”　asked　touchstone。

“now；”　confirmed　sabriel。　“but　let’s　wake　everyone　up　first；　and　organize　some　people　to　carry　lights　for　us。　we’d　also　better　talk　to　the　elder　about　a　boat　for　the　morning。”

“and　a　good　supply　of　fish；”　added　mogget；　who’d　slunk　back　to　the　half…eaten　whiting；　his　　voice　sharp　above　the　heavy　drone　of　snoring　fisher…folk。

there　were　no　dead　on　the　island；　though　the　archers　reported　seeing　strange　lights　moving　in　the　village；　during　brief　lulls　in　the　rain。　they’d　heard　movement　on　the　breakwater　too；　and　shot　fire　arrows　onto　the　stones；　but　saw　nothing　before　the　crude；　oily　rag–wrapped　shafts　guttered　out。

sabriel　advanced　out　on　the　breakwater；　and　stood　near　the　sea　gap；　her　oilskin　coat　loosely　draped　over　her　shoulders；　shedding　rain　to　the　ground　and　down　her　neck。　she　couldn’t　see　anything　through　the　rain　and　dark；　but　she　could　feel　the　dead。　there　were　more　than　she　had　sensed　earlier；　or　they　had　grown　much　stronger。　then；　with　a　sickening　feeling；　she　realized　that　this　strength　belonged　to　a　single　creature；　only　now　emerging　from　death；　using　the　broken　stone　as　a　portal。　an　instant　later；　she　recognized　its　particular　presence。

the　mordicant　had　found　her。

“touchstone；”　she　asked；　fighting　to　keep　the　shivers　from　her　voice。　“can　you　sail　a　boat　by　night？”

“yes；”　replied　touchstone；　his　voice　impersonal　　again；　face　dark　in　the　rainy　night；　the　lantern…light　from　the　villagers　behind　him　lighting　only　his　back　and　feet。　he　hesitated；　as　if　he　shouldn’t　be　offering　an　opinion；　then　added；　“but　it　would　be　much　more　dangerous。　i　don’t　know　this　coast；　and　the　night　is　very　dark。”

“mogget　can　see　in　the　dark；”　sabriel　said　quietly；　moving　closer　to　touchstone　so　the　villagers　couldn’t　hear　her。

“we　have　to　leave　immediately；”　she　whispered；　while　pretending　to　adjust　her　oilskin。　“a　mordicant　has　e。　the　same　one　that　pursued　me　before。”

“what　about　the　people　here？”　asked　touchstone；　so　softly　the　sound　of　the　rain　almost　washed　his　words　away—but　there　was　the　faint　sound　of　reproof　under　his　business…like　tone。

“the　mordicant　is　after　me；”　muttered　sabriel。　she　could　sense　it　moving　away　from　the　stone；　questing　about；　using　its　otherwordly　senses　to　find　her。　“it　can　feel　my　presence；　as　i　feel　it。　when　i　go；　it　will　follow。”

“if　we　stay　till　morning；”　touchstone　whispered　back；　“won’t　we　be　safe？　you　said　even　a　mordicant　couldn’t　cross　this　gap。”

“i　said；　‘i　think；’”　faltered　sabriel。　“it　has　grown　stronger。　i　can’t　be　sure—”

“that　thing　back　in　the　shed；　the　mordaut；　it　wasn’t　very　difficult　to　destroy；”　touchstone　whispered；　the　confidence　of　ignorance　in　his　voice。　“is　this　mordicant　much　worse？”

“much；”　replied　sabriel　shortly。

the　mordicant　had　stopped　moving。　the　rain　seemed　to　be　dampening　both　its　senses　and　its　desire　to　find　her　and　slay。　sabriel　stared　vainly　out　into　the　darkness；　trying　to　peer　past　the　sheets　of　rain；　to　gain　the　evidence　provided　by　sight；　as　well　as　her　necromantic　senses。

“riemer；”　she　said；　loudly　now；　calling　to　the　villager　who　was　in　charge　of　their　lanternholders。

he　came　forward　quickly；　gingery　hair　plastered　flat　on　his　rounded　head；　rainwater　dripping　down　from　a　high　forehead　to　catapult　itself　off　the　end　of　his　pudgy　nose。

“riemer；　have　the　archers　keep　very　careful　watch。　tell　them　to　shoot　anything　that　es　onto　the　breakwater—there　is　nothing　living　out　there　now。　only　the　dead。　we　need　to　go　back　and　talk　to　your　elder。”

they　walked　back　in　silence；　save　for　the　sloshing　of　boots　in　puddles　and　the　steady　finger…applause　of　the　rain。　at　least　half　of　sabriel’s　attention　stayed　with　the　mordicant；　a　malign；　stomachache…inducing　presence　across　the　dark　water。　she　wondered　why　it　was　waiting。

waiting　for　the　rain　to　stop；　or　perhaps　for　the　now…banished　mordaut　to　attack　from　within。　whatever　its　reasons；　it　gave　them　a　little　time　to　get　to　a　boat；　and　lead　it　away。　and　perhaps；　there　was　always　the　chance　that　it　couldn’t　cross　the　breakwater　gap。

“what　time　is　low　tide？”　she　asked　riemer；　as　a　new　thought　struck。

“ah；　just　about　an　hour　before　dawn；”　replied　the　fisherman。　“about　six　hours；　if　i’m　any　judge。”

the　elder　awoke　crankily　from　his　second　sleep。　he　was　loath　for　them　to　go　in　the　night；　though　sabriel　felt　that　at　least　half　of　his　reluctance　was　due　to　their　need　for　a　boat。　the　villagers　only　had　five　left。　the　others　had　been　sunk　in　the　harbor；　drowned　and　broken　by　the　stones　hurled　down　by　the　dead；　eager　to　stop　the　escape　of　their　living　prey。

“i’m　sorry；”　sabriel　said　again。　“but　we　must　have　a　boat　and　we　need　it　now。　there　is　a　terrible　dead　creature　in　the　village—it　tracks　like　a　　hunting　dog；　and　the　trail　it　follows　is　mine。　if　i　stay；　it　will　try　and　e　here—and；　at　the　ebb；　it　may　be　able　to　cross　the　gap　in　the　breakwater。

if　i　go；　it　will　follow。”

“very　well；”　the　elder　agreed；　mulishly。　“you　have　cleansed　this　island　for　us；　a　boat　is　a　little　thing。　riemer　will　prepare　it　with　food　and　water。　riemer！　the　abhorsen　will　have　landalin’s　boat—make　sure　it　is　stocked　and　seaworthy。　take　sails　from　jaled；　if　landalin’s　is　short　or　rotten。”

“thank　you；”　said　sabriel。　tiredness　weighed　down　on　her；　tiredness　and　the　weight　of　awareness。

awareness　of　her　enemies；　like　a　darkness　always　clouding　the　edge　of　her　vision。　“we　will　go　now。　my　good　wishes　stay　with　you；　and　my　hopes　for　your　safety。”

“may　the　charter　preserve　us　all；”　added　touchstone；　bowing　to　the　old　man。　the　elder　bowed　back；　a　bent；　solemn　figure；　so　much　smaller　than　his　shadow；　looming　tall　on　the　wall　behind。

sabriel　turned　to　go；　but　a　long　line　of　villagers　was　forming　on　the　way　to　the　door。　all　of　them　wanted　to　bow　or　curtsey　before　her；　to　mutter　shy　thank…yous　and　farewells。　sabriel　accepted　　them　with　embarrassment　and　guilt；　remembering　patar。　true；　she　had　banished　the　dead；　but　another　life　had　been　lost　in　the　doing。　her　father　would　not　have　been　so　clumsy　。　。　。

the　second…to…last　person　in　the　line　was　a　little　girl；　her　black　hair　tied　in　two　plaits；　one　on　either　side　of　her　head。　seeing　her　made　sabriel　remember　something　touchstone　had　said。　she　stopped；　and　took　the　girl’s　hands　in　her　own。

“what　is　your　name；　little　one？”　she　asked；　smiling。　a　feeling　of　déjà　vu　swept　over　her　as　the　small　fingers　met　hers—the　memory　of　a　frightened　first…grader　hesitantly　reaching　out　to　the　older　pupil　who　would　be　her　guide　for　the　first　day　at　wyverley　college。　sabriel　had　experienced　both　sides；　in　her　time。

“aline；”　said　the　girl；　smiling　back。　her　eyes　were　bright　and　lively；　too　young　to　be　dimmed　by　the　frightened　despair　that　clouded　the　adults’　gaze。　a　good　choice；　sabriel　thought。

“now；　tell　me　what　you　have　learned　in　your　lessons　about　the　great　charter；”　sabriel　said；　adopting　the　familiar；　motherly　and　generally　irrelevant　questioning　tone　of　the　school　inspector　who’d　descended　on　every　clas