01 Sabriel by Nix Garth

Author:Nix, Garth [Garth, Nix,]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T21:24:59.095000+00:00

Sabriel nodded, pleased that Touchstone s stint as captain of their small vessel had done a lot to remove the servant nonsense out of him and make him more like a normal person. Mogget, 293 for his part, jumped up to the bow without protest, despite the spray that occasionally burst over his head as they cut diagonally across the swell towards the small triangle of opportunity between shore, sea and chain. They came in as close as they dared before unstepping the mast. The swell had diminished, for the Belis Mouth was well-sheltered by the two arms of land, but the tide had turned, and a tidal race was beginning to run from the ocean to the Saere Sea. So, even without mast and sail, they were borne rapidly towards the chain; Touchstone rowing with all his strength just to keep steerage way. After a moment, this clearly became impossible, so Sabriel took one of the oars, and they rowed together, with Mogget yowling directions. Every few seconds, at the end of a full stroke, her back nearly level with the thwarts, Sabriel snatched a glimpse over her shoulder. They were headed for the narrow passage, between the high but crumbling seawall of Winding Post, and the enormous chain rising out of the swift-flowing sea in a swath of white froth. She could hear the melancholy groaning of the links, like a chorus of pained walruses. Even that gargantuan chain 294 moved at the sea s whim. Port a little, yowled Mogget. Touchstone backed his oar for a moment, then the cat jumped down, yelling, Ship oars and duck!

The oars came rattling, splashing in, both Sabriel and Touchstone simply lying down on their backs, with Mogget somewhere between them. The boat rocked and plunged, and the groan of the chain sounded close and terrible. Sabriel, one moment looking up at the clear, blue sky, in the next saw nothing but green, weedstrewn iron above her. When the swell lifted the boat up, she could have reached out and touched the great boom-chain of Belis Mouth. Then they were past, and Touchstone was already pushing out his oar, Mogget moving to the bow. Sabriel wanted to lie there, just looking up at the sky, but the collapsed seawall of Winding Post was no more than an oar-length away. She sat up and resumed her duty as a rower. The water changed color in the Sea of Saere. Sabriel trailed her hand in it, marveling at its clear turquoise sheen. For all its color, it was incredibly transparent. The water was very deep, but she could see down the first three or four 295 fathoms, watching small fish dance under the bubbles of their boat s wake. She felt relaxed, momentarily carefree, all the troubles that lay ahead and behind her temporarily lost in single-minded contemplation of the clear blue-green water. There was no Dead presence here, no constant awareness of the many doors to Death. Even Charter Magic was dissipated at sea.

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