sabriel (the abhorsen trilogy)_加斯·尼克斯-第8部分

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hung　like　a　pale　star　above　her　head；　showing　the　path　before　dying　out。

a　slight　magic；　but　one　with　unexpected　consequences；　for；　as　she　left　the　bodies　behind；　an　answering　light　burned　into　brilliance　on　the　upper　post　of　the　bridge。　it　faded　into　red　embers　almost　immediately；　but　left　three　glowing　charter　marks。　one　was　strange　to　sabriel；　but；　from　the　other　two；　she　guessed　its　meaning。

together；　they　held　a　message。

three　of　the　dead　soldiers　had　the　feel　of　charter　magic　about　them；　and　sabriel　guessed　that　they　were　charter　mages。　they　would　have　had　the　charter　mark　on　their　foreheads。　the　very　last　body　on　the　bridge　had　been　one　of　　these　men　and　sabriel　remembered　that　he　had　been　the　only　one　not　holding　a　weapon鈥攈is　hands　had　been　clasped　around　the　bridge　post。

these　marks　would　certainly　hold　his　message。

sabriel　touched　her　own　forehead　charter　mark　and　then　the　bridge　post。　the　marks　flared　again；　then　went　dark。　a　voice　came　from　nowhere；　close　to　sabriel鈥檚　ear。　a　man鈥檚　voice；　husky　with　fear；　backed　by　the　sound　of　clashing　weapons；　screaming　and　total　panic。

鈥渙ne　of　the　greater　dead！　it　came　behind　us；　almost　from　the　wall。　we　couldn鈥檛　turn　back。　it　has　servants；　hands；　a　mordicant！　this　is　sergeant　gerren。　tell　colonel　。　。　。鈥�

whatever　he　wanted　to　tell　colonel　horyse　was　lost　in　the　moment　of　his　own　death。　sabriel　stood　still；　listening；　as　if　there　might　be　more。

she　felt　ill；　nauseous；　and　took　several　deep　breaths。　she　had　forgotten　that　for　all　her　familiarity　with　death　and　the　dead；　she　had　never　seen　or　heard　anyone　actually　die。　the　aftermath　she　had　learnt　to　deal　with　。　。　。　but　not　the　event。

she　touched　the　bridge　post　again；　just　with　one　finger；　and　felt　the　charter　marks　twisting　through　the　grain　of　the　wood。　sergeant　gerren鈥檚　message　would　be　there　forever　for　any　charter　　　mage　to　hear；　till　time　did　its　work；　and　bridge　post　and　bridge　rotted　or　were　swept　away　by　flood。

sabriel　took　a　few　more　breaths；　stilled　her　stomach；　and　forced　herself　to　listen　once　more。

one　of　the　greater　dead　was　back　in　life；　and　that　was　something　her　father　was　sworn　to　stop。　it　was　almost　certain　that　this　emergence　and　abhorsen鈥檚　disappearance　were　connected。

once　again；　the　message　came；　and　sabriel　listened。

then；　brushing　back　her　starting　tears；　she　walked　on；　up　the　path；　away　from　the　bridge　and　the　dead；　up　towards　cloven　crest　and　the　broken　charter　stone。

the　bluffs　parted　and；　in　the　sky　above；　stars　started　to　twinkle；　as　the　wind　grew　braver　and　swept　the　snow　clouds　before　it　into　the　west。

the　new　moon　unveiled　itself　and　swelled　in　brightness；　till　it　cast　shadows　on　the　snowflecked　ground。

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chapter　v

锝炲皬锛滆�磘　xt锛嬶紜澶╋紴鍫�
it　was　no　more　than　a　halfhour鈥檚　steady　climb　to　the　flat　top　of　cloven　crest；　though　the　path　grew　steeper　and　more　difficult。　the　wind　was　strong　now　and　had　cleared　the　sky；　the　moonlight　giving　form　to　the　landscape。　but　without　the　clouds；　it　had　grown　much　colder。

sabriel　considered　a　charter…spell　for　warmth；　but　she　was　tired；　and　the　effort　of　the　spell　might　cost　more　than　the　gain　in　warmth。　she　stopped　instead　and　shrugged　on　a　fleece…lined　oilskin　that　had　been　handed　down　from　her　father。　it　was　a　bit　worn　and　too　large；　needing　severe　buckling…in　with　her　sword…belt　and　the　baldric　that　held　the　bells；　but　it　was　certainly　windproof。

feeling　relatively　warmer；　sabriel　resumed　climbing　up　the　last；　winding　portion　of　the　path；　where　the　incline　was　so　steep　the　pathmakers　had　resorted　to　cutting　steps　out　of　the　granite鈥攕teps　now　worn　and　crumbling；　prone　to　sliding　away　underfoot。

so　prone　to　sliding；　that　sabriel　reached　the　top　without　realizing　it；　head　down；　her　eyes　searching　in　the　moonlight　for　the　solid　part　of　the　next　step。　her　foot　was　actually　halfway　up　in　the　air　before　she　realized　that　there　wasn鈥檛　a　next　step。

cloven　crest　lay　before　her。　a　narrow　ridge　where　several　slopes　of　the　hill　met　to　form　a　miniature　plateau；　with　a　slight　depression　in　the　middle。　snow　lay　in　this　depression；　a　fat；　cigarshaped　drift；　bright　in　the　moonlight；　stark　white　against　the　red　granite。　there　were　no　trees；　no　vegetation　at　all；　but　in　the　very　center　of　the　drift；　a　dark　grey　stone　cast　a　long　moonshadow。

it　was　twice　sabriel鈥檚　girth　and　three　times　her　height；　and　looked　whole　till　she　walked　closer　and　saw　the　zigzag　crack　that　cut　it　down　the　middle。

sabriel　had　never　seen　a　true　charter　stone　before；　but　she　knew　they　were　supposed　to　be　　like　the　wall；　with　charter　marks　running　like　quicksilver　through　the　stone；　forming　and　dissolving；　only　to　re…form　again；　in　a　neverending　story　that　told　of　the　making　of　the　world。

there　were　charter　marks　on　this　stone；　but　they　were　still；　as　frozen　as　the　snow。　dead　marks；　nothing　more　than　meaningless　inscriptions；　carved　into　a　sculptured　stone。

it　wasn鈥檛　what　sabriel　had　expected；　though　she　now　realized　that　she　hadn鈥檛　thought　about　it　properly。　she鈥檇　thought　of　lightning　or　suchlike　as　the　splitter　of　the　stone；　but　forgotten　lessons　remembered　too　late　told　her　that　wasn鈥檛　so。　only　some　terrible　power　of　free　magic　could　split　a　charter　stone。

she　walked　closer　to　the　stone；　fear　rising　in　her　like　a　toothache　in　its　first　growth；　signaling　worse　to　e。　the　wind　was　stronger　and　colder；　too；　out　on　the　ridge；　and　the　oilskin　seemed　less　forting；　as　its　memories　of　her　father　brought　back　remembrance　of　certain　pages　of　the　book　of　the　dead　and　tales　of　horror　told　by　little　girls　in　the　darkness　of　their　dormitory；　far　from　the　old　kingdom。

fears　came　with　these　memories；　till　sabriel　　wrestled　them　to　the　back　of　her　mind；　and　forced　herself　closer　to　the　stone。

dark　patches　of　。　。　。　something　。　。　。　obscured　some　of　the　marks；　but　it　wasn鈥檛　until　sabriel　pushed　her　face　almost　to　the　stone　that　she　could　make　out　what　they　were；　so　dull　and　black　in　the　moonlight。

when　she　did　see；　her　head　snapped　up；　and　she　stumbled　backwards；　almost　overbalancing　into　the　snow。　the　patches　were　dried　blood；　and　when　she　saw　them；　sabriel　knew　how　the　stone　had　been　broken；　and　why　the　blood　hadn鈥檛　been　cleaned　away　by　rain　or　snow　。　。　。　why　the　stone　never　would　be　clean。

a　charter　mage　had　been　sacrificed　on　the　stone。　sacrificed　by　a　necromancer　to　gain　access　to　death；　or　to　help　a　dead　spirit　break　through　into　life。

sabriel　bit　her　lower　lip　till　it　hurt　and　her　hands；　almost　unconsciously；　fidgeted；　halfdrawing　charter　marks　in　nervousness　and　fear。

the　spell　for　that　sort　of　sacrifice　was　in　the　last　chapter　of　the　book　of　the　dead。　she　remembered　it　now；　in　sickening　detail。　it　was　one　of　the　many　things　she　seemed　to　have　forgotten　from　that　green…bound　book鈥攐r　had　been　made　　to　forget。　only　a　very　powerful　necromancer　could　use　that　spell。　only　a　totally　evil　one　would　want　to。　and　evil　breeds　evil；　evil　taints　places　and　makes　them　attractive　to　further　acts　of　。　。　。

鈥渟top　it！鈥潯�whispered　sabriel　aloud；　to　still　her　mind　of　its　imaginings。　it　was　dark；　windy　and　getting　colder　by　the　minute。　she　had　to　make　a　decision：　to　camp　and　call　her　guide；　or　to　move　on　immediately　in　some　random　direction　in　the　hope　that　she　would　be　able　to　summon　her　guide　from　somewhere　else。

the　worst　part　of　it　all　was　that　her　guide　was　dead。　sabriel　had　to　enter　death；　albeit　briefly；　to　call　and　converse　with　the　guide。　it　would　be　easy　to　do　so　here；　for　the　sacrifice　had　created　a　semi…permanent　entry；　as　if　a　door　had　been　wedged　ajar。　but　who　knew　what　might　be　lurking；　watching；　in　the　cold　river　beyond。

sabriel　stood　for　a　minute；　shivering；　listening；　every　sense　concentrated；　like　some　small　animal　that　knows　a　predator　hunts　nearby。　her　mind　ran　through　the　pages　of　the　book　of　the　dead；　and　through　the　many　hours　she　had　spent　learning　charter　magic　from　magistrix　greenwood　in　the　sunny　north　tower　of　wyverley　college。

at　the　end　of　the　minute；　she　knew　that　camping　was　out　of　the　question。　she　was　simply　too　frightened　to　sleep　anywhere　near　the　ruined　charter　stone。　but　it　would　be　quicker　to　call　her　guide　here鈥攁nd　the　quicker　she　got　to　her　father鈥檚　house；　the　sooner　she　could　do　something　to　help　him；　so　a　promise　was　called　for。　she　would　protect　herself　with　charter　magic　as　best　she　could；　enter　death　with　all　precaution；　summon　her　guide；　get　directions　and　get　out　as　quickly　as　possible。　quicker；　even。

with　decision　came　action。　sabriel　dropped　her　skis　and　pack；　stuffed　some　dried　fruit　and　homemade　toffee　in　her　mouth　for　quick　energy；　and　adopted　the　meditative　pose　that　made　charter　magic　easier。

after　bit　of　trouble　with　the　toffee　and　her　teeth；　she　began。　symbols　formed　in　her　mind鈥敗�the　four　cardinal　charter　marks　that　were　the　poles　of　a　diamond　that　would　protect　her　from　both　physical　harm　and　free　magic。　sabriel　held　them　in　her　mind；　fixed　them　in　time；　and　pulled　them　out　of　the　flow　of　the　never…ending　charter。

then；　drawing　her　sword；　she　traced　rough　outlines　in　the　snow　around　her；　one　mark　at　each　cardinal　point　of　the　pass。　as　she　finished　　each　mark；　she　let　the　one　in　her　mind　run　from　her　head　to　her　hand；　down　the　sword　and　into　the　snow。　there；　they　ran　like　lines　of　golden　fire　and　the　marks　became　alive；　burning　on　the　ground。

the　last　mark　was　the　north　mark；　the　one　closest　to　the　destroyed　stone；　and　it　almost　failed。　sabriel　had　to　close　her　eyes　and　use　all　her　will　to　force　it　to　leave　the　sword。　even　then；　it　was　only　a　pallid　imitation　of　the　other　three；　burning　so　weakly　it　hardly　melted　the　snow。

sabriel　ignored　it；　quelling　the　nausea　that　had　brought　bile　to　the　back　of　her　mouth；　her　body　reacting　to　the　struggle　with　the　charter　mark。

she　knew　the　north　mark　was　weak；　but　golden　lines　had　run　between　all　four　points　and　the　diamond　was　plete；　if　shaky。　in　any　case；　it　was　the　best　she　could　do。　she　sheathed　her　sword；　took　off　her　gloves；　and　fumbled　with　her　bellbandolier；　cold　fingers　counting　the　bells。

鈥渞anna；鈥潯�she　said　aloud；　touching　the　first；　the　smallest　bell。　ranna　the　sleepbringer；　the　sweet；　low　sound　that　brought　silence　in　its　wake。

鈥渕osrael。鈥潯�the　second　bell；　a　harsh；　rowdy　bell。　mosrael　was　the　waker；　the　bell　sabriel　　should　never　use；　the　bell　whose　sound　was　a　seesaw；　throwing　the　ringer　further　into　death；　as　it　brought　the　listener　into　life。

鈥渒ibeth。鈥潯�kibeth；　the　walker。　a　bell　of　several　sounds；　a　difficult　and　contrary　bell。　it　could　give　freedom　of　movement　to　one　of　the　dead；　or　walk　them　through　the　next　gate。　many　a　necromancer　had　stumbled　with　kibeth　and　walked　where　they　would　not。

鈥渄yrim。鈥潯�a　musical　bell；　of　clear　and　pretty　tone。　dyrim　was　the　voice　that　the　dead　so　often　lost。　but　dyrim　could　also　still　a　tongue　that　moved　too　freely。

鈥渂elgaer。鈥潯�another　tricksome　bell；　that　sought　to　ring　of　its　own　accord。　belgaer　was　the　thinking　bell；　the　bell　most　necromancers　scorned　to　use。　it　could　restore　independent　thought；　memory　and　all　the　patterns　of　a　living　person。　or；　slipping　in　a　careless　hand；　erase　them。

鈥渟araneth。鈥潯�the　deepest；　lowest　bell。　the　sound　of　strength。　saraneth　was　the　binder；　the　bell　th