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the cartography myself。 e down to the study and put out an inkwell and paper。鈥�
鈥渁s long as i get a useable map i don鈥檛 care who draws it；鈥潯abriel remarked； as she went backwards down the ladder。 she tilted her head to watch how mogget came down； but there was only the open trapdoor。 a sarcastic meow under her feet announced that mogget had once again managed to get between rooms without visible means of support。
鈥渋nk and paper；鈥潯he cat reminded her； jumping up onto the dragon desk。 鈥渢he thick paper。
smooth side up。 don鈥檛 bother with a quill。鈥�
sabriel followed mogget鈥檚 instructions； then watched with a resigned condescension that rapidly changed to surprise as the cat crouched by the square of paper； his strange shadow falling on it like a dark cloak thrown across sand； pink tongue out in concentration。 mogget seemed to think for a moment； then one bright ivory claw shot out from a white pad鈥攈e delicately inked the claw in the inkwell； and began to draw。 first； a rough outline； in swift； bold strokes； the penning in of the major geographical features； then the delicate process of adding important sites； each named in fine； spidery writing。 last of all； mogget marked abhorsen鈥檚 house with a small illustration； before leaning back to admire his handiwork； and lick the ink from his paw。 sabriel waited a few seconds to be sure he was done； then cast drying sand over the paper； her eyes trying to absorb every detail； intent on learning the physical face of the old kingdom。
鈥測ou can look at it later；鈥潯ogget said after a few minutes； when his paw was clean； but sabriel was still bent over the table； nose inches from the map。 鈥渨e鈥檙e still in a hurry。 you鈥檇 better go and get dressed； for a start。 do try to be quick。鈥�
鈥渋 will。鈥潯abriel smiled； still looking at the map。 鈥渢hank you； mogget。鈥�
the sendings had laid out a great pile of clothes and equipment in sabriel鈥檚 room； and four of them were in attendance to help her get everything on and organized。 she had hardly stepped inside before they鈥檇 stripped her indoor dress and slippers off； and she鈥檇 only just managed to remove her own underclothes before ghostly charter…traced hands tickled her sides。
a few seconds later； she was suffering them anyway； as they pulled a thin； cotton…like undergarment over her head； and a pair of baggy drawers up her legs。 next came a linen shirt； then a tunic of doeskin and breeches of supple leather； reinforced with some sort of hard； segmented plates at thighs； knees and shins； not to mention a heavily padded bottom； no doubt designed for riding。
a brief respite followed； lulling sabriel into thinking that might be it； but the sendings had merely been arranging the next layer for immediate fitting。 two of them pushed her arms into a long； armored coat that buckled up at the sides； while the other two unlaced a pair of hobnailed boots and waited。
the coat wasn鈥檛 like anything sabriel had ever worn before； including the mail hauberk she鈥檇 worn in fighting arts lessons at school。 it was as long as an hauberk； with split skirts ing down to her knees and sleeves swallowtailed at her wrists； but it seemed to be entirely made of tiny overlapping plates； much like a fish鈥檚 scales。 they weren鈥檛 metal； either； but some sort of ceramic； or even stone。 much lighter than steel； but clearly very strong； as one sending demonstrated； by cutting down it with a dagger； striking sparks without leaving a scratch。
sabriel thought the boots pleted the ensemble； but as the laces were done up by one pair of sendings； the other pair were back in action。 one raised what appeared to be a blue and silver striped turban； but sabriel； pulling it down to just above her eyebrows； found it to be a cloth…wrapped helmet； made from the same material as the armor。
the other sending waved out a gleaming； deep blue surcoat； dusted with embroidered silver keys that reflected the light in all directions。 it waved the coat to and fro for a moment； then whipped it over sabriel鈥檚 head and adjusted the drape with a practiced motion。 sabriel ran her hand over its silken expanse and discreetly tried to rip it in one corner； but； for all its apparent fragility； it wouldn鈥檛 tear。
last of all came sword…belt and bell…bandolier。
the sendings brought them to her； but made no attempt to put them on。 sabriel adjusted them herself； carefully arranging bells and scabbard； feeling the familiar weight鈥攂ells across her breast and sword balanced on her hip。 she turned to the mirror and looked at her reflection； both pleased and troubled by what she saw。 she looked petent； professional； a traveler who could look after herself。 at the same time； she looked less like someone called sabriel； and more like the abhorsen； capital letter and all。
she would have looked longer； but the sendings tugged at her sleeves and directed her attention to the bed。 a leather backpack lay open on it and； as sabriel watched； the sendings packed it with her remaining old clothes； including her father鈥檚 oilskin； spare undergarments； tunic and trousers； dried beef and biscuits； a water bottle； and several small leather pouches full of useful things； each of which were painstakingly opened and shown to her： telescope； sulphur matches； clockwork firestarter； medicinal herbs； fishing hooks and line； a sewing kit and a host of other small essentials。 the three books from the library and the map went into oilskin pouches； and then into an outside pocket。
backpack on； sabriel tried a few basic exercises； and was relieved to find that the armor didn鈥檛 restrict her too much鈥攈ardly at all in fact； though the pack was not something she鈥檇 like to have on in a fight。 she could even touch her toes； so she did； several times； before straightening up to thank the sendings。
they were gone。 instead； there was mogget； stalking mysteriously towards her from the middle of the room。
鈥渨ell； i鈥檓 ready；鈥潯abriel said。
mogget didn鈥檛 answer； but sat at her feet； and made a movement that looked very much like he was going to be sick。 sabriel recoiled； disgusted； then halted； as a small metallic object fell from mogget鈥檚 mouth and bounced on the floor。
鈥渁lmost forgot；鈥潯aid mogget。 鈥測ou鈥檒l need this if i鈥檓 to e with you。鈥�
鈥渨hat is it？鈥潯sked sabriel； bending down to pick up a ring； a small silver ring； with a ruby gripped between two silver claws that grew out of the band。
鈥渙ld；鈥潯eplied mogget； enigmatically。 鈥測ou鈥檒l know if you need to use it。 put it on。鈥�
sabriel looked at it closely； holding it between two fingers as she slanted it towards the light。 it felt； and looked； quite ordinary。 there were no charter marks on the stone or band； it seemed to have no emanations or aura。 she put it on。
it felt cold as it slipped down her finger； then hot； and suddenly she was falling； falling into infinity； into a void that had no end and no beginning。 everything was gone； all light； all substance。 then charter marks suddenly exploded all around her and she felt gripped by them； halting her headlong fall into nothing； accelerating her back up； back into her body； back to the world of life and death。
鈥渇ree magic；鈥潯abriel said； looking down at the ring gleaming on her finger。 鈥渇ree magic； connected to the charter。 i don鈥檛 understand。鈥�
鈥測ou鈥檒l know if you need to use it；鈥潯ogget repeated； almost as if it were some lesson to be learned by rote。 then； in his normal voice： 鈥渄on鈥檛 worry about it till then。 e鈥攖he paperwing is ready。鈥�
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chapter xi
锝涘皬锝濓經璇达綕锝泃锝濓經xt锝濓經澶╋綕锝涘爞
the paperwing sat on a juryrigged platform of freshly sawn pine planks； teetering out over the eastern wall。 six sendings clustered around the craft； readying it for flight。
sabriel looked up at it as she climbed the stairs； an unpleasant feeling rising with her。 she had been expecting something similar to the aircraft that had begun to be mon in ancelstierre； like the biplane that had performed aerobatics at the last wyverley college open day。
something with two wings； rigging and a propeller鈥敗hough she had assumed a magical engine rather than a mechanical one。
but the paperwing didn鈥檛 look anything like an ancelstierran airplane。 it most closely resembled a canoe with hawk…wings and a tail。 on closer inspection； sabriel saw that the central fuselage was probably based on a canoe。 it was tapered at each end and had a central hole for a cockpit。
wings sprouted on each side of this canoe shape鈥攍ong； swept…back wings that looked very flimsy。 the wedge…shaped tail didn鈥檛 look much better。
sabriel climbed the last few steps with sinking expectations。 the construction material was now clear and so was the craft鈥檚 name鈥攖he whole thing was made up from many sheets of paper； bonded together with some sort of laminate。
painted powder…blue； with silver bands around the fuselage and silver stripes along the wings and tail； it looked pretty； decorative and not at all airworthy。
only the yellow falcon eyes painted on its pointed prow hinted at its capacity for flight。
sabriel looked at the paperwing again； and then out at the waterfall beyond。 now； fed by floodwaters； it looked even more frightening than usual。 spray exploded for tens of yards above its lip鈥攁 roaring mist the paperwing would have to fly through before it reached the open sky beyond。 sabriel didn鈥檛 even know if it was waterproof。
鈥渉ow often has this 。 。 。 thing 。 。 。 flown before？鈥潯he asked； nervously。 intellectually； she accepted that she would soon be sitting in this craft； to be launched out towards the crashing waters鈥攂ut her subconscious； and her stomach； seemed very keen to stay firmly on the ground。
鈥渕any times；鈥潯eplied mogget； easily jumping from the platform to the cockpit。 his voice echoed there for a moment； till he climbed back up； furry cat…face propped on the rim。 鈥渢he abhorsen who made it once flew it to the sea and back； in a single afternoon。 but she was a great weather…witch and could work the winds。 i don鈥檛 suppose鈥斺��
鈥渘o；鈥潯aid sabriel； made aware of another gap in her education。 she knew that wind…magic was largely whistled charter marks； but that was all。
鈥渘o。 i can鈥檛。鈥�
鈥渨ell；鈥潯ontinued mogget； after a thoughtful pause； 鈥渢he paperwing does have some elementary charms to ride the wind。 you鈥檒l have to whistle them； though。 you can whistle； i trust？鈥�
sabriel ignored him。 all necromancers had to be musical； had to be able to whistle； to hum； to sing。
if they were caught in death without bells； or other magical instruments； their vocal skills were a weapon of last recourse。
a sending came and took her pack； helping her to wrestle it off； then stowing it at the rear of the cockpit。 another took sabriel鈥檚 arm and directed her to what appeared to be a leather halfhammock strung across the cockpit鈥攐bviously the pilot鈥檚 seat。 it didn鈥檛 look terribly safe either； but sabriel forced herself to climb in； after giving her scabbarded sword into the hands of yet another sending。
surprisingly； her feet didn鈥檛 go through the paper…laminated floor。 the material even felt reassuringly solid and； after a minute of squirming； swaying and adjustment； the hammock…seat was very fortable。 sword and scabbard were slid into a receptacle at her side and mogget took up a position on top of the straps holding down her pack； just behind her shoulders； for the seat made her recline so far she was almost lying down。
from her new eye level； sabriel saw a small； oval mirror of silvered glass； fixed just below the cockpit rim。 it glittered in the late afternoon sun； and she felt it resonate with charter magic。
something about it prompted her to breathe upon it； her hot breath clouding the glass。 it stayed misted for a moment； then a charter mark slowly appeared； as if a ghostly finger was drawn across the clouded mirror。
sabriel studied it carefully； absorbing its purpose and effect。 it told her of the marks that would follow； marks to raise the lifting winds； marks for descending in haste； marks to call the wind from every corner of the pass rose。
there were other marks for the paperwing and； as sabriel absorbed them； she saw that the whole craft was lined with charter magic； infused with spells。 the abhorsen who made it had labored long； and with love； to create something that was more like a magical bird than an aircraft。
time passed； and the last mark faded。 the mirror cleared to be only a plate of silver glass shining in the sun。 sabriel sat； silent； fixing the charter marks in her memory； marveling at the power and the skill that had made the paperwing and had thought of this method of instruction。 perhaps one day； she too would have the mastery to create such a thing。
鈥渢he abhorsen who made this；鈥潯abriel asked。
鈥渨ho was she？ i mean； in relation to me？鈥�
鈥渁 cousin；鈥潯urred mogget； close to her ear。
鈥測our great…great…great…great…grandmother鈥檚 cousin。
the last of that line。 she had no children。鈥�
maybe the paperwing was her child； sabriel thought； running her hand along the sleek surface of the fuselage； feeling the charter marks quiescent in the fabric。 she felt a lot better a