A tall, silvery-haired man with wicked green eyes had walked long and far. His flowing white robe brushed the ground as he strode along, blending in with the snow left over from a few days ago. He stopped at a small, frozen stream and gazed upon its surface;
He saw a face behind him. A woman of medium height with curly dark hair and a tan tunic and breeches over a red under-shirt peeked over his left shoulder. Her expressive grey eyes twinkled at him.
"Well met, friend Yrael. Gazing at yourself again, I see." The woman said, attempting a mystical tone like that of the Clayr and failing miserably. Yrael burst out in uncharacteristic giggles.
"Well met, Kibeth. Just as ridiculous as usual, I see." Yrael replied, turning around to face the woman, who, if you looked at out of the corner of your eye would appear to be a large, black-and-tan mutt of indiscriminate origin.
The two walked on together in silent conversation.
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Kyrael sat on the landing stage of Abhorsen's House, reading and dangling her feet in the water. Her short, light brown hair blew in the wind, into her violet-grey eyes and over her Charter mark. She turned another page in The Book of the Dead and continued to read- this page described the best uses of Charter-made daggers against Free Magic constructs.
"If you are over running water and a Construct of the Second Kindred or above attempts to charge, use Charter daggers (marks indexed in back) in concordance with a Charter net (marks indexed) to bind and break the creature, then call out the sixteenth master mark if you have no bells; bind the net under the water and the Construct will be defeated. If you are facing a Construct of a lower nature, to simply lure it into the water will be enough to bind it temporarily. Then, if you wish to send a Construct of any kind to its final demise, so that it may not be raised again, take Kibeth and Saraneth from your bandolier. Ring Kibeth above your head in clockwise half-circles, six at a time with the clapper scraping along and back around the bell rim each time. During your half-peals of Kibeth ring Saraneth in a vertical line, from right to left, then a horizontal line from north to south. Ring Kibeth in a standard Demmare's Peal (described on Page 622) and then shout "Return to Death and walk beyond the Ninth Gate, to be raised again nevermore!" The shout and Demmare's Peal are essential- if you have not the time for the rest of the ritual, one clockwise half-peal of Kibeth , the Demmare's Peal and the shout will suffice to shackle the Construct at the Eighth Gate, where you may go and finalize your binding when you have more time on your hands."
"Huh." Kyrael said out loud, flipping to the index.
"Dagger, Charter-made. Use a mark of blinding and binding, six of locking, barring and breaking, and the seventh Circled mark, sealed with the twentieth Righted master mark of fire and air, take six swings clockwise of the arm and throw at desired object."
"Huh." Kyrael said, with considerably more interest, dipping into the Charter for the marks and sealing them together in her hand with the master mark. She swung her arm six times backward and let fly; the dagger impaled itself next to the lintel-post of the door into the tunnel under the Long Cliffs, nearly catching her father's shirt as he passed through to the stepping-stones.
"Kyrael! Please be more careful where you cast your Charter-spells!" Nicholas Sayre, husband of the Abhorsen Lirael Goldenhand called out, picking up the dagger gingerly with two fingers. It appeared to be metal, solid albeit glowing. It suddenly fizzled out of existence as Kyrael spoke a combating master mark to the one that bound it together.
"Hey! I wanted to look at that, Kyr!" Nicholas called, hopping across the stepping-stones and ending up next to Kyrael as she shut The Book of the Dead with a snap.
"Oh, I'll show it to you later, Dad. Right now I think it's time for lunch." Kyrael said, opening the gate and tearing up the path as a sending banged on the gong that signaled everyone it was time for a meal.
Nicholas followed, at a more normal pace.
"Hey sis." Michael called, from his spot at the table.
"Hiya Michael. Where's mum?" Kyrael said inquiringly.
"Oh- about ten minutes ago she got a message from New Barhedrin, near the Wall. They have a few Haunts and a Ghlim roaming the outer edges of their village. Nothing Mother can't handle." Michael said, digging into his shepherd's pie.
"Alright. I wonder why there was a Ghlim so far south, though." Kyrael said, sitting down opposite Michael.
"S'h phobhy nufigg f' uwwy 'bout." Nicholas said, his mouth full of food.
"DA-ad!" the two children cried.
"Well, yeah. Shuffigg. What a word." Kyrael said dryly. As the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, it should have been she who'd gone, instead of Mother, who was still tired from banishing Mordicants that had been plaguing Beldevere last week.
Kyrael quickly finished her food and went to the library, to see if there was anything on a Ghlim near Barhedrin in the past. She ran her finger along a row of bookshelves, stopping at a slim, clothbound volume. "History of the Borderlands of the Wall and Barhedrin Hill" she read aloud. "Well, this should do it." She said, flipping to the index.
"Ghouls... Grims...GHLIMS! Got it!" she said excitedly, flipping to the appropriate page.
"There have only been two Ghlims of note in the Borderlands, one of which continually plagued the village of Barhedrin for over a century. It was bound inside an anvil by the twentieth Abhorsen, Erimael the White. Erimael was so named because she was the fist Abhorsen to have all color leached from her skin while passing into Death to bind a necromancer." She read.
Kyrael took the book with her and ran to the mews to send a message-hawk to her mother. Maybe it was the Ghlim previously trapped!
She quickly scribbled a message to her mother and told it to the message-hawk, sending it on its way with a Charter-spell to make sure it didn't stop until it had delivered its message.
She took the book back to the library and put it and The Book of the Dead on their respective shelves. It was interesting that no Abhorsen before Erimael the White had had color leached from their skin because they crossed into Death, Kyrael thought.
Kyrael headed to the orchard and picked some peaches, then handed them to a nearby sending and told it to go make peach pie. The sending delightedly rushed off on its task and Kyrael was left in peace. She climbed up the nearest peach tree and sat, her back against the trunk, balanced on a branch. She cast a Charter-spell of warding and hiding to keep anybody from disturbing her and promptly fell asleep.
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Yrael and the Seven gathered in a sacred clearing. "Who shall go first?" Questioned a tall, serious man with a cheerful ten-year-old girl sitting on his shoulders.
"I-yawn- shall." Answered Ranna from her cloud, where she floated between Mosrael and Saraneth.
And Ranna stepped forward into the silver- glowing circle and disappeared.
"I next." Said Dyrim, from Belgaer's shoulders. She too walked into the circle and disappeared. This continued until there were only Astarael and Yrael left.
"I trust you will not forget your promise, brother." Said Astarael, stepping into the circle and vanishing too.
"Oh, lackaday and bother! I hope I can get a lot of fish!" Grumbled Yrael, doing the same as the others before him- except this time, the circle vanished with him.
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Kyrael awoke with a jolt. She'd thought she was Yrael... or Kibeth there for a second! Shaking off the strange notion, she removed the spell cloaking the tree and went back into the House.
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So what do you think? If this is stupid, I'll stop. Please review!
Stock tips, death threats, premonitions and horseshit are welcome! (As long as you review)