sabriel (the abhorsen trilogy)_加斯·尼克斯-第21部分

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he　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鈥檛　feel　like　shinning　up　an　oar。　she　did　pause　to　look　at　the　figureheads鈥敗�imposing　men；　one　in　his　forties；　the　other　somewhat　older。　both　were　bearded；　had　the　same　imperious　eyes；　and　wore　armor　similar　to　sabriel鈥檚；　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鈥攖he　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鈥攁　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鈥檚　skill；　no　matter　how　talented。

鈥渢oo　life…like；鈥潯�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鈥敗�a　niggling　sensation　that　she　couldn鈥檛　place。

sabriel　tried　to　identify　it；　while　she　looked　over　the　figurehead　again；　carefully　examining　him　from　every　angle。　the　man鈥檚　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鈥檇　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鈥攖hough　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鈥檚　previous　mood　and　his　current　somnolence。　she　would　have　to　make　up　her　own　mind。

鈥渟o；鈥潯�she　said；　addressing　the　figurehead　like　a　lawyer　before　a　court。　鈥測ou　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鈥檓　sure鈥攂ut　i　could　find　a　lot　of　trouble　as　well。　trouble　i　can鈥檛　deal　with　in　my　current　pathetic　state。　so　what　can　i　do？　what　would　father鈥攁bhorsen　。　。　。　or　any　abhorsen鈥攄o　in　my　place？鈥�

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鈥檚　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鈥檛　think　further　than　that；　perhaps　due　to　the　injudicious　sniffing　of　the　catbalm。　she　didn鈥檛　even　consider　that　her　father　would　probably　have　waited　until　he　was　fitter鈥攑erhaps　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鈥檛　have　to　immediately　take　on　any　duty　that　presented　itself　。　。　。

but　for　the　first　time　since　she鈥檇　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鈥攏ot　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　every　footfall；　guarding　against　the　gripping　current。　there　was　definitely　something　odd　out　there。　she　could　feel　it　quite　strongly鈥攊t　had　to　be　the　trapped　spirit。　she　ignored　the　little　voice　at　the　back　of　her　mind　that　suggested　it　was　a　fiercely　devious　dead　creature；　strong　enough　to　hold　its　own　against　the　race　of　the　river　。　。　。

nevertheless；　when　she　was　a　few　paces　back　from　whatever　it　was；　sabriel　let　ranna　sound鈥敗�a　muffled；　sleepy　peal　that　carried　the　sensation　of　a　yawn；　a　sigh；　a　head　falling　forward；　eyes　heavy鈥攁　call　to　sleep。

if　there　was　a　dead　thing　there；　sabriel　reasoned；　it　would　now　be　quiescent。　she　put　her　sword　and　bell　away；　edged　forward　to　a　good　position；　and　reached　down　into　the　water。

her　hands　touched　something　as　cold　and　hard　as　ice；　something　totally　unidentifiable。

she　flinched　back；　then　reached　down　again；　till　her　hands　found　something　that　was　clearly　a　shoulder。　she　followed　this　up　to　a　head；　and　traced　the　features。　sometimes　a　spirit　bore　little　relation　to　the　physical　body；　and　sometimes　living　spirits　became　warped　if　they　spent　too　　long　in　death；　but　this　one　was　clearly　the　counterpart　of　the　figurehead。　it　lived　too；　somehow　encased　and　protected　from　death；　as　the　living　body　was　preserved　in　wood。

sabriel　gripped　the　spirit…form　under　the　arms　and　pulled。　it　rose　up　out　of　the　water　like　a　killer　whale；　pallid　white　and　rigid　as　a　statue。

sabriel　staggered　backwards；　and　the　river；　evereager；　wrapped　her　legs　with　tricksome　eddies鈥敗�but　she　steadied　herself　before　it　could　drag　her　down。

changing　her　hold　a　little；　sabriel　began　to　drag　the　spirit…form　back　towards　life。　it　was　hard　going；　much　harder　than　she鈥檇　expected。

the　current　seemed　far　too　strong　for　this　side　of　the　first　gate；　and　the　crystallized　spirit鈥攐r　whatever　it　was鈥攚as　much；　much　heavier　than　any　spirit　should　be。

with　nearly　all　her　concentration　bent　on　staying　upright　and　heading　in　the　right　direction；　sabriel　almost　didn鈥檛　notice　the　sudden　cessation　of　noise　that　marked　the　passage　of　something　through　the　first　gate。　but　she鈥檇　learned　to　be　wary　over　the　last　few　days；　and　her　conscious　fears　had　bee　enshrined　in　subconscious　caution。

she　heard；　and　listening　carefully；　caught　the　soft　slosh…slosh　of　something　half…wading；　halfcreeping；　moving　as　quietly　as　it　could　against　the　current。　moving　towards　her。　something　dead　was　hoping　to　catch　her　unawares。

obviously；　some　alarm　or　summons　had　gone　out　beyond　the　first　gate；　and　whatever　was　stalking　towards　her　had　e　in　answer　to　it。

inwardly　cursing　herself　for　stupidity；　sabriel　looked　down　at　her　spirit　burden。　sure　enough；　she　could　just　make　out　a　very　thin　black　line；　fine　as　cotton　thread；　running　from　his　arm　into　the　water鈥攁nd　thence　to　the　deeper；　darker　regions　of　death。　not　a　controlling　thread；　but　one　that　would　let　some　distant　adept　know　the　spirit　had　been　moved。　fortunately；　sounding　ranna　would　have　slowed　the　message；　but　was　she　close　enough　to　life　。　。　。

she　increased　her　speed　a　little；　but　not　too　much；　pretending　she　hadn鈥檛　noticed　the　hunter。

whatever　it　was；　it　seemed　quite　reluctant　to　close　in　on　her。

sabriel　quickened　her　pace　a　little　more；　adrenaline　and　suspense　feeding　her　strength。　if　it　rushed　her；　she　would　have　to　drop　the　spirit鈥敗�and　he　would　be　carried　away；　lost　forever。

whatever　magic　had　preserved　his　living　spirit　here　on　the　boundary　couldn鈥檛　possibly　prevail　if　he　went　past　the　first　gate。　if　that　happened；　sabriel　thought；　she　would　have　precipitated　a　murder　rather　than　a　rescu