Mogget's head butted against Nicholas's leg insistently. "You. Must. Get. In. The. Paperwing!" The last was punctuated by a sharp nip to the heel that made Nick jump into the aforementioned vessel. Mogget leaped in behind him. "Take off. Then listen carefully. You will need to know your role precisely if we are to succeed.

"What do you mean, my role?"

"You will be the one ringing the bell."

"What?!?"

"You are the only one with even a trace of Orannis in their blood. Thus you must be the one to ring it."

"But I don't know anything about ringing bells! That's Lirael's job!"

"It's yours now, and you would know all you need to if you would only listen instead of trying to argue with me. You won't win anyway."

"Fine. Get on with it."

"I'm glad you've come to see the light. Now, pay attention. As you know, the bell's shape changes constantly. I'll only be able to stop that for a second, so you'll have to ring the bell the moment you hear me yowl. Lirael will be sounding Saraneth at the same time, so don't get distracted."

"Right. When do we do this?"

"Now."

Sure enough, the paperwing was going down. At least it would be a smooth landing this time. Everything was still flat from the first time they'd dealt with Orannis. Ahead, Lirael and Sam were already disembarking. "Remind me again why he's here?" Nick requested.

"The only reason we created my bell was so we could obtain Orannis's silver to make his," the cat replied. "Sam will be the one to run and get it, since you two will still be ringing."

"And Orannis?"

"Will be free. But," he said as Nick started to panic, "he won't be anywhere near as powerful as he was. If he tries to be, he'll go mad."

"Will that be before or after he kills us?"

"Hopefully before. If it is after, though, we can at leas die knowing Orannis went down with us."

"You're such a comfort, Mogget."

Lirael and Sam were already sprinting down the hill towards the silver hemispheres. Nick knew they must be as anxious as he himself was. They did, after all, each have their respective jobs. He laughed low in his throat, halting it before it came bubbling out of his mouth. He wouldn't trade Sam jobs for a thousand silver deniers. The current one was quite enough, thank you.

The sound of Saraneth's deep voice snapped his mind back to his work just in time for him to hear Mogget yowl hideously. As horrible as it sounded, the bell he held finally stopped shifting and began to vibrate, tickling his palm. Nick took charge of the bell, forcing the clapper to slide smoothly along the interior curves of the bell.

Combined with Saraneth, it created a sound unlike any other. It was low, but had a high note hidden beneath the low overtones. Nick could feel his bones resonate, and even the trees seemed to shake with the vibrations of the bell. As suddenly as it began, it was over. As things settled back into their natural place, some missing a few leaves or petals, a fault line formed in each of the massive hemispheres.

Sam moved his hands quickly, so fast that Nick would not have known he was weaving a spell if he hadn't been told earlier. After only a few seconds, he slowed.

A reddish-orange gas had begun to waft from the hemispheres that were now raised slightly above the ground. It cascaded to the rusty soil like some sort of volatile water. Sam stepped well away from the growing puddle before continuing the spell. Seconds later he was holding two filmy blue strands that had tied themselves around the silver. He ran towards them, towing the hemispheres effortlessly.

Upon reaching the paperwings, he spoke a few more signs to lash the other ends of the magical ropes to the wings of the aircraft. He threw yak-hide ropes around them too, before he slapped the nose of each,signaling the pilots to take off. Sam leaped into the back of the green and silver one, exchanging places with Nick as it rose into the air.

It was a long flight back to the far north, especially with such a large weight hanging beneath them. When they finally arrived, they had to, ever so carefully, drop the hemispheres into a small meadow by the forge. The paperwings themselves went down a few yards away.

As Sam bent to his work,Lirael disembarked to stretch her legs. Mainly she just wandered around a bit, but her feet inevitably brought her to the forest that held her mother's grave. Hers, and, she told herself, Nordale's. Strange, how she should discover she had a brother only after losing her sister. 'And yet'' she thought, 'Sabriel may still live. I'm fairly I would have felt it if she had died. But then again, I didn't feel Touchstone's, now, did I?'

Lost in her miserable musings, Lirael scarcely noticed Vannah emerging from the underbrush. But when the old woman spotted her, she received a glare colder than the surrounding air. She could almost hear the words restrained behind the stony eyes. 'If you dare go near that grave, I'll make sure you don't come back.'

Small as she was, Lirael held no doubts that Vannah would live up to that promise. She strode quickly away from the path, breaking into a run when she was sure she couldn't be seen. Lirael didn't cease her flight till she was upon the paperwings, not even when she nearly crashing into the last remnants of the hemisphere Sam was welding. Then, breathing hard, she concealed herself between the two vessels.

Sam arrived shortly, towing a massive bell behind him. Forgetting her fears, Lirael ran out to stop him.

"Are you crazy? The bell could sound if you move it like that! You know what will happen if it does!"

Sam nodded solemnly, then showed her how he'd tied cotton and yak hides around the clapper to keep it from striking the sides. She got behind the bell to help maneuver it into position. Once they'd wedged it between the two paperwings, Sam retied the ropes, making sure they wouldn't slip. They again boarded the paper birds, and prepared for flight. Lirael began her whistle. The vessel refused to lift, and one yellow eye rolled back to glare at her. Or, she realized, something behind her. She sat up in the hammock seat and twisted to see the rear of the craft. Clinging to the tail was a rather bewildered looking Vannah.

"Daughter of Ice!" She called, "There is something you must hear!"

Lirael cut off her whistle, letting the spell fade into nothingness. When she was sure the wind wouldn't whip her away, she stepped out of the paperwing. Fully intent on detaching the woman from its tail and leaving as soon as she did so, Lirael had difficulty keeping her stride even rather than stalking towards her. "What," she said through her teeth, "do you want?"

"The cold was not the cause of your mother's death?"

"That's impossible! That was a part of the vision she told Mogget before she left. Their own deaths are the only visions the Clayr see with complete accuracy."

"Oh, not always. Though I have no doubts the cold would have taken her if something else hadn't. But that is not why I bothered to stop you. When I saw you staring towards the forest earlier, I knew you were the one she had told me about. Just before she passed, she had a vision, the likes of which I'd have hated to see. even hearing her describe it was horrible, so I will spare you most of the detail. But here is the essence of it; thrice you will destroy your world, and twice you will save it. Yet the one you can't restore will be the one that means the most to you. But destroy it you must, for if you don't all three shall be lost. That was all she said before she crossed into the dark river. Now go, and remember her final words."

Vannah walked away, untouched by the winds that soon rose to Lirael's call. The paperwings rose into the air, ferrying their burden back to Ancelstierre.