AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I had better go and talk to Ellimere and Sam,” said Lirael thoughtfully, though she had already decided she would go, and go straightaway. Part of her last six months’ training with Sabriel had been spent learning to fly a paperwing. She was already thinking of how she could fly west to the Ratterlin and follow its silver path south, swooping down at Barhedrin Hill to get a horse from the garrison there, and someone to help her with it, because though she’d had lessons from Ellimere, riding horses was still a new thing and she didn’t want to fall off and break her leg before she even left the Old Kingdom. But she would have to ride, because the paperwing would not cross the Wall, and walking would be too slow. Once across the Wall, she could ride in one of the Ancelstierrans’ noisy, stinking vehicles, like the truck that had taken them west to Forwin Mill to confront Orannis . . .
“And a reply?” asked Mistress Finney, breaking in on Lirael’s thoughts. “To Magistrix Coelle?”
“Oh . . . please send word that I shall come as soon as I may,” said Lirael. She thought for a few moments. “I should be there within a day, I think. I’ll go to Wyverley first, to consult the magistrix for directions and so forth.”
“I will send a hawk at once,” replied the falconer, but she spoke to empty air. Lirael was already clattering down the stairs in her eagerness to be on her way, to once again be so busy she had no time to dwell upon the past.
She almost ran into Ellimere halfway down, coming up rather more slowly than Lirael was descending, the princess almost dropping the sheaf of messages she was bringing for the message-hawks to send.
“You’re in a hurry,” said the princess cheerfully. “What’s happening?”
“Urgent message from Sam’s friend Nick in Ancelstierre,” gabbled Lirael. “A Free Magic creature, they need help. I thought I’d take a paperwing and fly down—”
“Wait! Wait!” cried Ellimere. She was still smiling, but there was the beginning of a frown on her forehead as well. “Have you got the message?”
Lirael handed her the paper. Ellimere read it, her frown intensifying.
“But no formal message from the Crossing Point Scouts at the Perimeter, or the government via our embassy in Corvere?”
“Mistress Finney only had that one,” said Lirael.
“Strange there should be nothing official,” said Ellimere. “And several hundred miles south, there’s no chance it could actually be a Free Magic creature. You can’t even feel the Charter that far into Ancelstierre. There must be something else going on. I wonder if it’s some sort of trap, to lure Mother into another assassination attempt . . .”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Lirael, suddenly acutely aware that she had let her eagerness to get busy overrule any deeper thinking. She should have particularly thought of a trap aimed at Sabriel. The Abhorsen and King Touchstone had almost been killed in Ancelstierre seven months before by assassins from the Our Country party, who had been secretly funded and directed by Hedge, the necromancer servant of Orannis. Though the leadership of that party and the few surviving assassins were all in prison now, there might still be some outlying groups who intended harm to Sabriel, not knowing there was no longer any purpose in doing so.
“You’d think the Clayr would have Seen anything serious coming up, too,” continued Ellimere. “I mean, the aged parents only agreed to go on holiday because it’s been so quiet and the Clayr said they hadn’t Seen anything nasty on the horizon.”
“The visions aren’t always clear,” said Lirael, who, though she lacked the Sight to see the future, had grown up among the clan of female seers in their fortress under the Glacier. “I mean, they See many possible futures, and have to look for patterns or recurring visions. And sometimes their Sight is clouded by other magic.”
“They normally See the big stuff, though,” said Ellimere. She paused and then added, “Eventually . . .”
“Almost too late sometimes,” said Lirael, with feeling. The Clayr had been very late in Seeing exactly what Orannis was, and what it planned. “Besides, they can’t See what happens in Ancelstierre, at least not much beyond the Wall. What if there really is a Free Magic creature loose over there? They have few—or maybe no—mages apart from the Crossing Point Scouts on the Perimeter.”
“But there can’t be a Free Magic creature that far south,” said Ellimere. “It just isn’t possible.”
It was Lirael’s turn to be silent for a moment. She was thinking.
“It may be significant that the telegram came from Nick,” she said slowly.
“Why?” asked Ellimere.
“He bore the fragment of Orannis inside his heart for a long time,” said Lirael. “I could feel the Free Magic within him. Even after . . . after . . .”
She paused to blink away an incipient tear. “Even after the Dog brought him back and gave him the Charter mark, the Free Magic was still there, inside him. Only contained by the Charter. In a way, he was like the Dog herself. Or Mogget when he had his collar on. Something of Free Magic, but also of the Charter.”
“I didn’t know he still had Free Magic inside him!” exclaimed Ellimere. “Did Mother know? We should never have let him out of our sight. What if the Free Magic overcomes him? He’ll be incredibly dangerous!”
“No . . .” said Lirael, though she was far from certain herself that this was true, basing her answer very much on the belief that the Disreputable Dog would not have brought Nicholas Sayre back if he was going to be a threat. “I don’t think that will happen. And Sabriel did know about Nick, she wanted him to come back with us, but Nick didn’t . . . he didn’t want to come along, and what with his uncle being the Chief Minister and all, Sabriel said we couldn’t just take him with us. She thought he would be far enough south both the Free Magic and the Charter Magic would sleep within him—”
“Maybe he is the Free Magic creature,” interrupted Ellimere, her frown deepening further. “Telegram could have been mixed up.”
“Whatever is happening, I think I should go and investigate,” said Lirael.
“Yes,” said Ellimere. “Perhaps Sam should go with you—”
Lirael shook her head. She’d just been in Sam’s workshop for the final adjustments to her hand, and he had been in a hurry himself. He was leaving to go and meet the leaders of the Southerling refugees, and take them to see the lands they were to be given by the crown. Sam had promised the Southerlings a place to settle, guaranteeing it with his word as a prince shortly before the final battle with Orannis, in order to make them get clear of the incipient destruction. Sorting out where they were to go, and attempting to overcome their cultural disbelief in magic, had become a big responsibility for Sam.
“Sam’s got the Southerling leaders here, trying to get them used to Charter Magic and everything before he takes them off to their new lands north of Roble’s Town. I’m sure I’ll be fine by myself.”
Lirael wasn’t entirely sure she would be fine. But she did know she needed to get away for a while, to be kept busy, to escape the long nights in her chambers in the palace, grieving for the Dog. A grief made worse by the fact that she knew the Dog would be cross with her for this and would probably have bitten her to stop her feeling sorry for herself.
“You’d better stop at Barhedrin and pick up a troop of the Guard,” said Ellimere. She turned about and started back down the stairs. “I’ll write a letter to the captain there; they can accompany you to the Wall and make sure you get an escort from the Perimeter garrison to go with you farther south. I’d better let the consulate in Bain know as well; they can send some people north to meet you. Bodyguards, with guns and so forth. Oh, and the embassy in Corvere will need to be informed.”
“I thought I’d go to Wyverley College first and talk to Magistrix Coelle, to see if she knows more,” said Lirael. She felt rather like a horse who has convinced another to bolt from a corral but can’t keep up. Ellimere was now even more enthusiastic about the mission than Lirael was herself.
“Good idea, but don’t go pa
st the Wall without an escort,” said Ellimere. “Just in case this is all a trap for Mother, since it could as easily be a trap for you. Those Our Country idiots would be as happy to kill an Abhorsen-in-Waiting as the Abhorsen herself. Do you have everything you need to take?”
“As much as I can fit in a paperwing,” said Lirael. One of the first things Sabriel had taught her was to be ready to be called upon at all times. The Dead and Free Magic creatures did not wait on the convenience of packing a traveling kit.
“You settle on a new sword?”
