Nix, Garth - The Old Kingdom 01 - Sabriel (Adult) by Nix Garth

Author:Nix, Garth [Nix, Garth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General, Epic, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic
ISBN: 9780060575816
Google: ycdqVIz4cy0C
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2004-08-17T12:34:24+00:00

chapter xvi

There was a built-up path through the flooded fields, but it was submerged to ankle-depth, with occasional thigh-high slippages. Only the raised canal drains stood well above the brackish water, and they all ran towards the east, not towards the village, so Sabriel and Touchstone were forced to wade along the path. Mogget, of course, rode, his lean form draped around Sabriel’s neck like a white fox fur.

Water and mud, coupled with an uncertain path, made it slow going. It took an hour to cover less than a mile, so it was later in the afternoon than Sabriel would have wished when they finally climbed out of the water, up onto the beginnings of the village’s rocky mount. At least the sky is clear, Sabriel thought, glancing up. The winter sun wasn’t particularly hot and couldn’t be described as glaring, but it would certainly deter most kindred of the Lesser Dead from venturing out.

Nevertheless, they walked carefully up to the village, swords loose, Sabriel with a hand to her bells. The path wound up in a series of steps carved from the rock, reinforced here and there with bricks and mortar. The village proper nestled on top of the bluff—about thirty cozy brick cottages, with wood-tile roofs, some painted bright colors, some dull, and some simply grey and weatherbeaten.

It was completely silent, save for the odd gust of wind, or the mournful cry of a gull, slipping down through the air above. Sabriel and Touchstone drew closer together, walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder up what passed for a main street, swords out now, eyes flickering across closed doors and shuttered windows. Both felt uneasy, nervous—a nasty, tingling, creeping sensation climbing up from spine, to nape of neck, to forehead Charter mark. Sabriel also felt the presence of Dead things. Lesser Dead, hiding from sunlight, lurking somewhere nearby, in house or cellar.

At the end of the main street, on the highest point of the bluff, a Charter Stone stood on a patch of carefully tended lawn. Half of the stone had been sheared away, pieces broken and tumbled, dark stone on green turf. A body lay in front of the stone, hands and feet bound, the gaping cut across the throat a clear sign of where the blood had come from—the blood for the sacrifice that broke the stone.

Sabriel knelt by the corpse, eyes averted from the broken stone. It was only recently ruined, she felt, but already the door to Death was creaking open. She could almost feel the cold of the currents beyond, leaking out around the stone, sucking warmth and life from the air. Things lurked there too, she knew, just beyond the border. She sensed their hunger for life, their impatience for night to fall.

As she expected, the corpse was of a Charter Mage, dead but three or four days. But she hadn’t expected to find the dead person was a woman. Wide shoulders and a muscular build had deceived her for a moment, but there was a middle-aged woman before her, eyes shut, throat cut, short brown hair caked with sea salt and blood.

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