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“mogget；” said abhorsen； as if trying to get his mouth around an unpalatable morsel。 “that is the wallmaker relict； or their last creation； or their child—no one knows； possibly not even him。 i wonder why he took the shape of a cat？ he was always a sort of albino dwarf…boy to me； and he practically never left the house。 i suppose he may be some sort of protection for the prince。 we must hurry。”
“i thought we were！” snapped sabriel； as he started off again。 she didn’t mean to be bad… tempered； but this was not her idea of a heartfelt reunion between father and daughter。 he hardly seemed to notice her； except as a repository for numerous revelations and as an agent to deal with kerrigor。
abhorsen suddenly stopped； and gathered her into a quick； one…armed embrace。 his grip felt strong； but sabriel felt another reality there； as if his arm was a shadow； temporarily born of light； but doomed to fade at nightfall。
“i have not been an ideal parent； i know；”
abhorsen said quietly。 “none of us ever are。
when we bee the abhorsen； we lose much else。 responsibility to many people rides roughshod over personal responsibilities； difficulties and enemies crush out softness； our horizons narrow。 you are my daughter； and i have always loved you。 but now； i live again for only a short time—a hundred hundred heartbeats； no more— and i must win a battle against a terrible enemy。
our parts now—which perforce we must play— are not father and daughter； but one old abhorsen； making way for the new。 but behind this； there is always my love。”
“a hundred hundred heartbeats 。 。 。” whispered sabriel； tears falling down her face。 she gently pushed herself out of his embrace； and they started forward together； towards the first gate； the first precinct； life—and then； the reservoir。
d
chapter xxiii
。
touchstone could see the dead now； and had no difficulty hearing them。 they were chanting and clapping； decayed hands meeting together in a steady； slow rhythm that put all the hair on the back of his head on edge。
a ghastly noise； hard sounds of bone on bone； or the liquid thumpings of deposed； jellying flesh。 the chanting was even worse； for very few of them had functioning mouths。
touchstone had never seen or heard a shipwreck— now he knew the sound of a thousand sailors drowning； all at once； in a quiet sea。
the lines of the dead had marched out close to where touchstone stood； forming a great mass of shifting shadow； spread like a choking fungus around the columns。 touchstone couldn’t make out what they were doing； till mogget； with his night…sight； explained。
“they’re forming up into two lines； to make a corridor；” the little cat whispered； though the need for silence was long gone。 “a corridor of dead hands； reaching from the northern stair to us。”
“can you see the doorway of the stair？”
touchstone asked。 he was no longer afraid； now he could see and smell the putrescent； stinking corpses lined up in mockery of a parade。 i should have died in this reservoir long ago； he thought。
there has just been a delay of two hundred years 。 。 。
“yes； i can；” continued mogget； his eyes green with sparkling fire。 “a tall beast has e； its flesh boiling with dirty flames。 a mordicant。 it’s crouching in the water； looking back and up like a dog to its master。 fog is rolling down the stairs behind it—a free magic trick； that one。 i wonder why he has such an urge to impress？”
“rogir always was flamboyant；” touchstone stated； as if he might be menting on someone at a dinner party。 “he liked everyone to be looking at him。 he’s no different as kerrigor； no different dead。”
“oh； but he is；” said mogget。 “very different。
he knows you’re here； and the fog’s for vanity。
he must have been terribly rushed making the body he wears now。 a vain man—even a dead one—would not like this body looked at。”
touchstone swallowed； trying not to think about that。 he wondered if he could charge out of the diamond； flèche with his swords into that fog； a mad attack—but even if he got there； would his swords； charter…spelled though they were； have any effect on the magical flesh kerrigor now wore？ something moved in the water； at the limits of his vision； and the hands increased the tempo of their drumming； the frenzied gurgle…chanting rising in volume。
touchstone squinted； confirming what he thought he’d seen—tendrils of fog； lazily drifting across the water between the lines of the dead； keeping to the corridor they’d made。
“he’s playing with us；” gasped touchstone； surprised by his own lack of breath for speech。 he felt like he’d already sprinted a mile； his heart going thump…thump…thump…thump 。 。 。
a terrible howl suddenly rose above the dead drumming； and touchstone leapt back； nearly dislodging mogget。 the howl rose and rose； being unbearable； and then a huge shape broke out of the fog and darkness； stampeding towards them with fearful power； great swaths of spray exploding around it as it ran。
touchstone shouted； or screamed—he wasn’t sure—threw away his candle； drew his left sword and thrust both blades out； crouching to receive the charge； knees so bent he was chestdeep in the water。
“the mordicant！” yelled mogget； then he was gone； leaping from touchstone to the still…frosted sabriel。
touchstone barely had time to absorb this information； and a split…second image of something like an enormous； flame…shrouded bear； howling like the final scream of a sacrifice—then the mordicant collided with the diamond of protection； and touchstone’s out…thrust swords。
silver sparks exploded with a bang that drowned the howling； throwing both touchstone and the mordicant back several yards。 touchstone lost his footing； and went under； water bubbling into his nose and still…screaming mouth。
he panicked； thinking the mordicant would be on him in a second； and flipped himself back up with unnecessary force； savagely ripping his stomach muscles。
he almost flew out of the water； swords at guard again； but the diamond was intact； and the mordicant retreating； backing away along the corridor of hands。 they’d stopped their noise； but there was something else—something touchstone didn’t recognize； till the water drained out of his ears。
it was laughter； laughter echoing out of the fog； which now billowed across the water； ing closer and closer； till the retreating mordicant was enveloped in it； and lost to sight。
“did my hound scare you； little brother？” said a voice from within the fog。
“ow！” exclaimed sabriel； feeling mogget’s claws on her physical body。 abhorsen looked at her； raising one silvery eyebrow questioningly。
“something touched my body in life；” she explained。 “mogget； i think。 i wonder what’s happening？”
they stood at the very edge of death； on the border with life。 no dead had tried to stop them； and they’d passed easily through the first gate。
perhaps any dead would quail from the sight of two abhorsens 。 。 。
now they waited。 sabriel didn’t know why。
somehow； abhorsen seemed to be able to see into life； or to work out what was happening。 he stood like an eavesdropper； body slightly bent； ear