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Prologue

In the Sixth Precinct, the inexorable current of the river that flowed through Death slowed al place for the Dead who hoped to go no farther, and for those who strived to claw their way back through five gates and precincts and out into the living world again

Aainst the co people Necromancers, of course, for no others could be here while still alive At least alive for thedeeper into Death than their knowledge and their strength alloere the particular prey of the Greater Dead who prowled the precinct, ever eager to consume any scrap of Life that would aid theain

But in this case the Greater Dead stayed well away, knowing the tomen werethe seven bells, necroic, but their bells had any handles rather than ebony, and the silver bell-ht Charter marks

That alone declared their identity, but it was confir plates of a ethre, with surcoats over the armor One wore deep blue, sprinkled with many silver keys, the other a coat also with silver keys upon the blue, but quartered with golden stars on a field of green

The silver keys were the blazon of the Abhorsen, foe and nes Dead, and this was the Abhorsen Sabriel, fifty-third of the line With her was her apprentice Lirael, the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, who also bore the stars of the Clayr to show her own unique heritage: she was not only an Abhorsen, but also a Remembrancer, who could See deep into the past, just as the Clayr could See the future

“She has evaded us,” said Sabriel, looking out over the grey and dismal river She could feel the presence of the Dead,to avoid her attention But they were all lesser things than the one she and Lirael had hunted, a long and weary way The desperately scrabbling so on, without the need for interference

“You’re sure it was Chlorr of the Mask?” asked Lirael She looked around more warily than Sabriel This was only the eleventh time she had come into Death, and only the second tih once she had been very far indeed, to the border of the Ninth Gate She was very grateful that Sabriel was by her side, while still not being quite able to quell a feeling of great loss The last tireat friend the Disreputable Dog had accoth

But the Dog was gone forever

Lirael still felt the pain of that loss, and the dread, dis of Orannis were never far froht note of cheer from that ti had sent hie of Life Lirael would have liked to talk to Nicholaswent, grasping at the hope the wily hound had not gone toward the final gate

In fact Lirael would have liked to see eneral, for he was one of the very few people she had ever met who she had immediately liked and had felt some unspoken connection to, or at least the potential for so of the sort

But Nick was gone too Not dead, thank the Charter But returned to Ancelstierran regions far south of the Wall, to get hidoic and the Charter to live a normal life, Lirael told herself

She et him

“It was definitely Chlorr,” said Sabriel, recapturing Lirael’sattention The older woman wrinkled her nose “Over time, you’ll learn to differentiate the various types of the Dead, and individuals strong enough to earn the description of Greater Dead You sense it now, I suspect”

“Yes” said Lirael

It was true she could feel the Dead all around, with that strange sense she had not known she possessed for much of her life She narrowed her eyes and tried to sort through the different sensations, for that sense was so, touch and smell, but it drew upon the more powerful a trace, like the scent of suished some time before

“Has Chlorr gone deeper into Death?” asked Lirael She hoped the slight quaver in her voice was not apparent She was quite prepared to go on if it was necessary She only hoped it wasn’t

“No,” said Sabriel “I think she was too fast for us, and went sideways and then back toward Life But to do that”

She stopped talking and looked around again, intent upon the placid though still treacherous river Lirael watched her, once again dom and the subject of so ends, was also her relatively newly discovered half-sister A twenty-years-older half-sister, though Lirael felt that after the events of the su herself

“To do that,” repeated Sabriel, “Chlorr must be anchored in Life”

“Anchored in Life?” asked Lirael, startled Chlorr of the Mask had been an ancient necromancer until she was physically slain by Sabriel Bu

t she had not gone beyond the Ninth Gate, instead beco of fire and shadow that needed no flesh to inhabit out in the living world

“I destroyed the shape she wore,” said Sabriel “But even at that time I wondered She was very old, hundreds of years old I could feel that age, a leaden weight within the far younger skin”

She stopped talking and turned about in a circle, sniffing, her eyes narrowed Lirael looked around too, listening to the faint sounds of movement in the river, sounds that would normally be obscured by the rush of the current

“There are various ways to extend a life,” continued Sabriel, after a moment “I was too busy to consider which she had used, and became busier still, as you know But now I think she must be connected to some anchor in Life That is why she did not fully obey my bells, and did not die the final death”

“But how” stammered Lirael “How could she do that?”

“There are a number of methods, all of them foul,” or did so, and there are passages froh it es to you As always, it has its own ideas of when the reader is ready”

“It certainly does,” said Lirael, who, despite considerable familiarity with sorcerous texts from her time as a librarian, was still unsettled by the way the contents of that strange to it, she often felt the same bone-deep chill she felt in the river now

Lirael spoke slowly, half her mind still focused on her sense of Death, and the Dead There were things going on, small movements, like flotsam on the tideit took her a few seconds to work out that the dozens and dozens of lesser Dead were gathering together,to form a host

“We shall have to find out, in due course, but Chlorr by herself is not of primary iain, and provided she stays in the North There are other, more immediate problems Some at hand, I would say”

Sabriel unfastened the strap that held her favorite bell quiet on her bandolier, her fingers closing on the clapper, bright Charterfro s of a surprise, even an as are more afraid of her than they are of us We must correct that view”

Lirael barely had time to draw her sword and a bell of her own before the Dead attacked, particularly as her right handperfected, the new hand that had been made for her by Saic