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way from the broken stone。 the almanac showed that she had remembered correctly： the buckle was due north in the old kingdom； its other name was mariner鈥檚 cheat。 in ancelstierre； the buckle was easily ten degrees west of north。
north located； sabriel started to make her way to that side of the crest； looking for the spur that slanted down to the valley lost in darkness below。 the clouds were thickening and she wanted to reach level ground before the moonlight disappeared。 at least the spur； when found； looked like easier going than the broken steps to the south； though its gentle slope proclaimed a long descent to the valley。
in fact； it took several hours before sabriel reached the valley floor； stumbling and shivering； a very pale charter flame dancing a little ways in front of her。 too insubstantial to really ease her path； it had helped her avoid major disaster； and she hoped it was pallid enough to be taken for marsh…gas or chance reflection。 in any case； it had proved essential when clouds closed the last remaining gap in the sky。
so much for no cloud； sabriel thought； as she looked towards what she guessed was still north； searching for the red star； uallus。 her teeth were chattering and would not be stilled； and a shiver that had started with her ice…cold feet was repeating itself through every limb。 if she didn鈥檛 keep moving； she鈥檇 simply freeze where she stood鈥攑articularly as the wind was rising once more 。 。 。
sabriel laughed quietly； almost hysterically； and turned her face to feel the breeze。 it was an easterly； gaining strength with the minute。
colder； yes； but it also cleared the cloud； sweeping it to the west鈥攁nd there； in the first cleared broom…stroke of the wind； was uallus gleaming red。 sabriel smiled； stared at it； took stock of the little she could see around her； and started off again； following the star； a whispering voice constant in the back of her mind。
do not tarry； do not stop； no matter what happens。
the smile lasted as sabriel found the road and； with a good cover of snow in each gutter； she skied； making good time。
by the time sabriel found the mile marker and the charter stone behind it； no trace of the smile could be seen on her pale face。 it was snowing again； snowing sideways as the wind grew more frenzied； taking the snowflakes and whipping them into her eyes； now the only exposed portion of her entire body。 her boots were soaked too； despite the mutton fat she鈥檇 rubbed into them。 her feet； face and hands were freezing； and she was exhausted。 she鈥檇 dutifully eaten a little every hour； but now； simply couldn鈥檛 open her frozen jaws。
for a short time； at the intact charter stone that rose proudly behind the smaller milemarker； sabriel had made herself warm； invoking a charter…spell for heat。 but she鈥檇 grown too tired to maintain it without the assistance of the stone； and the spell dissipated almost as soon as she walked on。 only the mother…spirit鈥檚 warning kept her going。 that； and the sensation that she was being followed。
it was only a feeling； and in her tired； chilled state； sabriel wondered if it was just imagination。
but she wasn鈥檛 in any state to face up to anything that might not be imagined； so she forced herself to go on。
do not tarry； do not stop； no matter what happens。
the path from the charter stone was better made than the one that climbed cloven crest； but steeper。 the pathmakers here had to cut through a dense； greyish rock； which did not erode like granite； and they had built hundreds of wide； low steps； carved with intricate patterns。
whether these meant something； sabriel didn鈥檛 know。 they weren鈥檛 charter marks； or symbols of any language that she knew； and she was too tired to speculate。 she concentrated on one step at a time； using her hands to push down on her aching thighs； coughing and gasping； head down to avoid the flying snow。
the path grew steeper still and sabriel could see the cliff…face ahead； a huge； black； vertical mass； a much darker backdrop to the swirling snow than the clouded sky； palely backlit by the moon。 but she didn鈥檛 seem to get any closer as the path switchbacked to and fro； rising further and further up from the valley below。
then； suddenly； sabriel was there。 the path turned again and her little will…o鈥櫋璽he…wisp light reflected back from a wall； a wall that stretched for miles to either side； and for hundreds of yards upwards。 clearly； these were the long cliffs； and the path had ended。
almost sobbing with relief； sabriel pushed herself forward to the very base of the cliff； and the little light rose above her head to disclose grey； lichen…veined rock。 but even with that light； there was no sign of a door鈥攏othing but jagged； impervious rock； going up and out of her tiny circle of illumination。 there was no path and nowhere else to go。
wearily； sabriel knelt in a patch of snow and rubbed her hands together vigorously； trying to restore circulation； before drawing mosrael from the bandolier。 mosrael； the waker。 sabriel stilled it carefully and concentrated her senses； feeling for anything dead that might be near and should not be woken。 there was nothing close； but once again sabriel felt something behind her； something following her； far down on the path。 something dead； something reeking of power。 she tried to judge how distant the thing was； before forcing it from her thoughts。
whatever it might be； it was too far away to hear even mosrael鈥檚 raucous voice。 sabriel stood up； and rang the bell。
it made a sound like tens of parrots screeching； a noise that burst into the air and wove itself into the wind； echoing from the cliffs； multiplying into the scream of a thousand birds。
sabriel stilled the bell at once and put it away； but the echoes raced across the valley； and she knew the thing behind her had heard。 she felt it fix its attention on where she was and she felt it quicken its pace； like watching the muscles on a racehorse going from the walk to a gallop。 it was ing up the steps at least four or five at a time。 she felt the rush of it in her head and the fear rising in her at equal pace； but she still went to the path and looked down； drawing her sword as she did so。
there； between gusts of snow； she saw a figure leaping from step to step； impossible leaps； that ate up the distance between them with horrible appetite。 it was manlike； more than man…high； and flames ran like burning oil on water where it trod。 sabriel cried out as she saw it； and felt the dead spirit within。 the book of the dead opened to fearful pages in her memory； and descriptions of evil poured into her head。 it was a mordicant that hunted her鈥攁 thing that could pass at will through life and death； its body of bog…clay and human blood molded and infused with free magic by a necromancer； and a dead spirit placed inside as its guiding force。
sabriel had banished a mordicant once； but that had been forty miles from the wall； in ancelstierre； and it had been weak； already fading。
this one was strong； fiery； new…born。 it would kill her； she suddenly knew； and subjugate her spirit。 all her plans and dreams； her hopes and courage； fell out of her to be replaced by pure； unthinking panic。 she turned to one side； then the other； like a rabbit running from a dog； but the only way down was the path and the mordicant was only a hundred yards below； closing with every blink； with every falling snowflake。 flames were spewing from its mouth； and it thrust its pointed head back and howled as it ran； a howl like the last shout of someone falling to their death； underlaid with the squeal of fingernails on glass。
sabriel； a scream somehow stuck and choking in her throat； turned to the cliff； hammering on it with the pommel of her sword。
鈥渙pen！ open！鈥潯he screamed； as charter marks raced through her brain鈥攂ut not the right ones for forcing a door； a spell she鈥檇 learned in the second form。 she knew it like she knew her times tables； but the charter marks just wouldn鈥檛 e； and why was twelve times twelve sticking in her head when she wanted charter marks 。 。 。
the echoes from mosrael faded； and in that silence； the pommel struck on something that thudded hollowly； rathe