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Past the Ninth
Chapter 1 The Hooded Man
It was hot, at the top of Cloven Crest, actually it was a record breaker. Gruda-her present name-certainly could tell. She was standing on the top of the mountain, wiping sweat from her eyes. She was getting impatient. As she made to check her right side, just in case Hedge's brother, Francis, had arrived. He had not. Gruda sighed. Business did take forever, especially when it wasn't exactly legal. Finally, at five past noon, a dark figure approached the top. "Hello, Gruda Wiscia." It said, voice as cold as ice.
"Hello, Master." Gruda answered to the man, bowing.
He was clad in a brown traveling cloak that made it impossible to see his face, a small torso, and long, dangly arms and legs made him have the look of a very badly put together jigsaw puzzle. "I have brought what you have ordered of me." She said bowing again, long brown, bangs flat on the rock-covered ground.
"Good. I have brought what you wished in return." He gestured to the bottom of the mountain. Two Hish (as humans called them) stood there, showing their fangs to each other.
"Thank you, Master." Gruda whispered, displaying a small, silver key on an equally small silk cushion. "You may go past the ninth now, Master, and return, but-"
"You are welcome." He said taking the cushion, delicately, then, with a swish of his cloak, disappeared.
"So much for a warni-" Gruda stopped dead, clutching her throat, gagging. The stench of Free Magic was in the air.
"Traitor!" was her last word as she fell, hazel eyes blank. The Hish had disappeared as well, but a faint voice, cold. It matching the one of the cloaked man, exactly, floated in the cold northern wind. It laughed a cold laugh that was not amusing at all. "Killing gives me more pleasure than business." It hissed.
Lirael, at Abhorson's House, on a bench in an oak tree in the grove, felt the Death as the wind blew in her direction. She shook her head. Something about it felt...strange, yet familiar. "Sam!" She called to her best friend making it possible to communicate with him by way of Charter marks. He had been in the garden, spelling the ground to make it richer and less dry.
"I feel it too." He said in the bubble, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It reminds me of Hedge, sort of." He said walking inside the house holding the spell in his hand.
Lirael frowned. "He didn't have...an apprentice?" she whispered, obviously hoping otherwise.
"How am I supposed to know!" he snapped.
Lirael groaned. Sam had been VERY touchy recently, since the heat wave. "Sorry." Said Sam sourly sitting on his bed. Lirael nodded as she slipped to the ground. "Bye." She muttered then spoke the mark to end the spell.
She gathered the marks to make her cooler, then headed back to her room. Sam had been acting...odd...even before the heat. After their encounter with Hedge, to be precise. Strange...
Nicolas, still in the Abhorson's house, taking hourly doses of Charter magic given by himself, Sabriel, Lirael, Sam, or Touchstone, sat on his bed. He sat reading some scientific book when he felt It. A great jolt in his stomach. Somehow, he knew someone had died-near by. "Lirael!" He called as loud as he could. Weeks earlier, he had been banned to get out of bed.
Instead, Sabriel walked to his bedside. "So, you felt it?" she asked, plainly worried.
"Yea. I-what made ME feel it? Inside me?" Nick had asked for a positively impossible explanation.
"Having the Mark makes you know when someone had or is dieing." She explained. "Now, sleep." She whispered as she thought some sleeping marks. Nick opened his mouth to argue, but the mark had already taken him.
"Lirael!" she called into a speaking spell like the one Sam had used with Lirael. "We need to go." Something, Sabriel and Lirael knew, important was about to happen. They had to find out what, that was the problem.
Past the Ninth
Chapter 1 The Hooded Man
It was hot, at the top of Cloven Crest, actually it was a record breaker. Gruda-her present name-certainly could tell. She was standing on the top of the mountain, wiping sweat from her eyes. She was getting impatient. As she made to check her right side, just in case Hedge's brother, Francis, had arrived. He had not. Gruda sighed. Business did take forever, especially when it wasn't exactly legal. Finally, at five past noon, a dark figure approached the top. "Hello, Gruda Wiscia." It said, voice as cold as ice.
"Hello, Master." Gruda answered to the man, bowing.
He was clad in a brown traveling cloak that made it impossible to see his face, a small torso, and long, dangly arms and legs made him have the look of a very badly put together jigsaw puzzle. "I have brought what you have ordered of me." She said bowing again, long brown, bangs flat on the rock-covered ground.
"Good. I have brought what you wished in return." He gestured to the bottom of the mountain. Two Hish (as humans called them) stood there, showing their fangs to each other.
"Thank you, Master." Gruda whispered, displaying a small, silver key on an equally small silk cushion. "You may go past the ninth now, Master, and return, but-"
"You are welcome." He said taking the cushion, delicately, then, with a swish of his cloak, disappeared.
"So much for a warni-" Gruda stopped dead, clutching her throat, gagging. The stench of Free Magic was in the air.
"Traitor!" was her last word as she fell, hazel eyes blank. The Hish had disappeared as well, but a faint voice, cold. It matching the one of the cloaked man, exactly, floated in the cold northern wind. It laughed a cold laugh that was not amusing at all. "Killing gives me more pleasure than business." It hissed.
Lirael, at Abhorson's House, on a bench in an oak tree in the grove, felt the Death as the wind blew in her direction. She shook her head. Something about it felt...strange, yet familiar. "Sam!" She called to her best friend making it possible to communicate with him by way of Charter marks. He had been in the garden, spelling the ground to make it richer and less dry.
"I feel it too." He said in the bubble, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It reminds me of Hedge, sort of." He said walking inside the house holding the spell in his hand.
Lirael frowned. "He didn't have...an apprentice?" she whispered, obviously hoping otherwise.
"How am I supposed to know!" he snapped.
Lirael groaned. Sam had been VERY touchy recently, since the heat wave. "Sorry." Said Sam sourly sitting on his bed. Lirael nodded as she slipped to the ground. "Bye." She muttered then spoke the mark to end the spell.
She gathered the marks to make her cooler, then headed back to her room. Sam had been acting...odd...even before the heat. After their encounter with Hedge, to be precise. Strange...
Nicolas, still in the Abhorson's house, taking hourly doses of Charter magic given by himself, Sabriel, Lirael, Sam, or Touchstone, sat on his bed. He sat reading some scientific book when he felt It. A great jolt in his stomach. Somehow, he knew someone had died-near by. "Lirael!" He called as loud as he could. Weeks earlier, he had been banned to get out of bed.
Instead, Sabriel walked to his bedside. "So, you felt it?" she asked, plainly worried.
"Yea. I-what made ME feel it? Inside me?" Nick had asked for a positively impossible explanation.
"Having the Mark makes you know when someone had or is dieing." She explained. "Now, sleep." She whispered as she thought some sleeping marks. Nick opened his mouth to argue, but the mark had already taken him.
"Lirael!" she called into a speaking spell like the one Sam had used with Lirael. "We need to go." Something, Sabriel and Lirael knew, important was about to happen. They had to find out what, that was the problem.