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flying out into the sky and the broad valley beyond。
it was quiet； and cold； a thousand feet or more above the valley。 the paperwing soared easily； the wind firm behind it； the sky clear above； save for the faintest wisps of cloud。 sabriel reclined in her hammock…seat； relaxing； running the charter marks she’d leaned over and over in her mind； making sure she had them properly pigeonholed。
she felt free； and somehow clean； as if the dangers of the last few days were dirt； washed away by the following wind。
“turn more to the north；” mogget’s voice suddenly said behind her； disturbing her carefree mood。 “do you recall the map？”
“yes；” replied sabriel。 “shall we follow the river？ the ratterlin； it’s called； isn’t it？ it runs nornor… east most of the time。”
mogget didn’t reply at once； though sabriel heard his purring breath close by。 he seemed to be thinking。 finally； he said； “why not？ we may as well follow it to the sea。 it branches into a delta there； so we can find an island to camp on tonight。”
“why not just fly on？” asked sabriel cheerily。
“we could be in belisaere by tomorrow night； if i summon the strongest winds。”
“the paperwing doesn’t like to fly at night；”
mogget said； shortly。 “not to mention that you would almost certainly lose control of the stronger winds—it is much more difficult than it seems at first。 and the paperwing is much too conspicuous； anyway。 have you no mon sense； abhorsen？”
“call me sabriel；” sabriel replied； equally shortly。 “my father is abhorsen。”
“as you wish； mistress；” said mogget。 the “mistress” sounded extremely sarcastic。
the next hour passed in belligerent silence； but sabriel； for her part； soon lost her anger in the novelty of flight。 she loved the scale of it all； to see the tiny patchworked fields and forests below； the dark strip of the river； the occasional tiny building。 everything was so small and seemed so perfect； seen from afar。
then the sun began to sink； and though the red wash of its fading light made the aerial perspective even prettier； sabriel felt the paperwing’s desire to descend； felt the yellow eyes focusing on green earth； rather than blue sky。 as the shadows lengthened； sabriel felt that same desire and began to look as well。
the river was already breaking up into the myriad streams and rivulets that would form the swampy ratterlin delta； and far off； sabriel could see the dark bulk of the sea。 there were many islands in the delta； some as large as football fields covered with trees and shrubs； others no bigger than two armspans of mud。
sabriel picked out one of the medium…sized ones； a flattish diamond with low； yellow grass； a few leagues ahead； and whistled down the wind。
it faded gradually with her whistle and the paperwing began to descend； occasionally nudged this way or that by sabriel’s control of the wind； or its own tilt of a wing。 its yellow eyes； and sabriel’s deep…brown eyes； were fixed on the ground below。 only mogget； being mogget； looked behind them and above。
even so； he didn’t see their pursuers until they came wheeling out of the sun； so his yowling cry gave only a few seconds’ warning； just long enough for sabriel to turn and see the hundreds of fast…moving shapes diving down upon them。 instinctively； she conjured charter marks in her mind； mouth pursed； whistling the wind back up； turning them to the north。
“gore crows！” hissed mogget； as the flapping shapes checked their dive and wheeled to pursue their suddenly enlivened prey。
“yes；” shouted sabriel； though she wasn’t sure why she answered。 her attention was all on the gore crows； trying to gauge whether they’d intercept or not。 she could already feel the wind testing the edges of her control； as mogget had prophesied； and to whip it up further might have unpleasant results。 but she could also feel the presence of the gore crows； feel the admixture of death and free magic that gave life to their rotten； skeletal forms。
gore crows didn’t last very long in sun and wind—these must have been made the previous night。 a necromancer had trapped quite ordinary crows； killing them with ritual and ceremony； before infusing the bodies with the broken； fragmented spirit of a single dead man or woman。 now they were truly carrion birds； birds guided by a single； if stupid； intelligence。
they flew by force of free magic； and killed by force of numbers。
despite her quickness in calling the wind； the flock was still closing rapidly。 they’d dived from high above and kept their speed； the wind stripping feathers and putrid flesh from their spellwoven bones。
for a moment； sabriel considered turning the paperwing back into the very center of this great murder of crows； like an avenging angel； armed with sword and bells。 but there were simply too many gore crows to fight； particularly from an aircraft speeding along several hundred feet above the ground。 one overeager sword thrust would mean a fatal fall—if the gore crows didn’t kill her on the way down。
“i’ll have to summon a greater wind！” she yelled at mogget； who was now sitting right up on her pack； fur bristling； yowling challenges at the crows。 they were very close now； flying in an eerily exact formation—two long lines； like arms outstretched to snatch the fleeing paperwing from the sky。 very little of their once…black plumage had survived their rushing dive； white bone shining through in the last light of the sun。
but their beaks were still glossily black and gleaming sharp； and sabriel could now see the red glints of the fragmented dead spirit in the empty sockets of their eyes。
mogget didn’t reply。 possibly； he hadn’t even heard her above his yowling； and the gore crows’ cawing as they closed the last few yards to attack； a strange； hollow sound； as dead as their flesh。
for a second of panic； sabriel felt her dry lips unable to purse； then she wet them and the whistle came； slow and erratic。 the charter marks felt clumsy and difficult in her head； as if she were trying to push a heavy weight on badly made rollers—then； with a last effort； they came easily； flowing into her whistled notes。
unlike her earlier； gradual summonings； this wind came with the speed of a slamming door； howling up behind them with frightening violence； picking up the paperwing and shunting it forward like a giant wave lifting up a slender boat。 suddenly； they were going so fast that sabriel could barely make out the ground below； and the individual islands of the delta merged into one continuous blur of motion。
eyes closed to protective slits； she craned her head around； the wind striking her face like a vicious slap。 the pursuing gore crows were all over the sky now； formation lost； like small black stains against the red and purple sunset。
they were flapping uselessly； trying to e back together； but the paperwing was already a league or more away。 there was no chance they could catch up。
sabriel let out a sigh of relief； but it was a sigh tempered with new anxieties。 the wind was carrying them at a fearful pace； and it was starting to veer northwards； which it wasn’t supposed to do。 sabriel could see the first stars twinkling now；