The waters of the Fourth Precinct were chilled as ever. The river ran
through, strong and enticing as it always did, waiting for some ill-
prepared necromancer or Dead creature to fall victim to its pull. A single
cloaked figure ran in from the Third Precinct, narrowly having missed the
crashing waves that had been the doom of many. Coming to a halt, the figure
brushed itself off with pale, gaunt hands. The hood of his cloak masking
his features, the stranger walked briskly though the waters of Death to the
center of the precinct, and quickly adopted a posture that indicated he was
waiting for something. After a drawn out moment, two more figures,
similarly cloaked, rushed in. These two went hand in hand, clutching each
other tightly.
"About time." the first figure said curtly, his voice cutting through the gray air. "We were held up." Responded an equally harsh female voice, coming from the shorter of the two newcomers.
"Still no excuse, Terren." The first figure stated smugly.
"Lay off her, Gahald." The female's companion interjected.
"I don't recall asking for your input, Jakoli." Gahald hissed in response. Both figures' right hands reached to their sides beneath their dark cloaks, revealing blades hanging menacingly at their sides that stank of Free Magic. Oddly enough, none present seemed affected by the harsh metallic stench.
"Come off it, would you?" Terren said, her tone gaining an edge of annoyance. She drew Jakoli's hand away from his blade as Gahald released his own.
"Tell your lover to learn his place, Terren." Gahald said menacingly.
"If you were to learn yours, he wouldn't have to." Terren responded, her eyes narrowing.
"Well, well, well. . .at it already, are we?" a new female voice interrupted, as yet another cloaked figure entered the precinct. Gahald, Terren, and Jakoli nodded a greeting to their newest companion as she joined the small group in the center.
"Hello Yuma." Terren said warmly, embracing the newcomer. The two women hugged as Jakoli and Gahald looked on in distaste. "Must you resort to such displays of affection in my presence?" Gahald muttered.
"If it bothers you that much, then leave." Terren growled as she released Yuma.
"Easy Terren. We all need to be present here, and we all have to get along. Can you please be civil to each other as long as we are here?" Yuma asked, her glance passing between Gahald and Terren.
"When she shows the least bit of respect towards me, I will show her the same courtesy." Gahald said shortly.
"Where are the others?" Jakoli asked, cutting off the last of Gahald's words. Yuma shrugged.
"I entered alone. It's getting less and less safe to travel in groups, or even pairs." She observed, casting mild a glance towards Jakoli.
"Our bodies are well protected, if that's what you mean." Terren said, spotting the jab at her and her lover.
"I would hope so." Came a new voice, emanating from a figure just passing into the precinct. His tone dripping with amusement, the new figure brushed itself off.
"Greetings, Inhur." Gahald said, his voice showing relief at this latest arrival.
"It has been too long, my friend." Inhur said, approaching the group and shaking hands with Gahald.
"Yes, but we are here now, and that is what matters." Gahald replied as he released Inhur's hand. All five cloaked figures present nodded their agreement. Unconsciously moving into a circle formation, they chatted quietly amongst themselves. Jakoli took a place next to Terren, Yuma next to Terren, Gahald next to her, and Inhur standing between Jakoli and Gahald.
"Do any of us know where Fierra or Raen is?" Inhur questioned, his inquiry being met with a variety of answers that all translated simply to no. With these words, another figure entered the precinct, joining the circle with a muffled hello.
"Greetings, Raen." Annet intoned.
"Greetings. Make room for Fierra-she's on her way." Raen replied as the group widened, and a space formed between Inhur and Jakoli. As they did so, a final figure emerged, joining the circle quietly, without even a nod of recognition towards her companions. An air of ceremony suddenly permeated the small circle.
"Let us begin." Jakoli said aloud, bowing in Fierra's direction. The latest newcomer bowed shallowly in return, and the small congregation of cloaked figures followed suit. Upon their rising, Fierra cleared her throat.
"By the bells we are called, and by the bells we are here. Who is present?" Fierra called out in a powerful voice.
"I, Terren, called by Ranna, am here."
"I, Jakoli, called by Mosrael, am here."
"I, Yuma, called by Kibeth, am here."
"I, Inhur, called by Dyrim, am here."
"I, Raen, called by Belgaer, am here."
"I, Gahald, called by Saraneth, am here."
"And I, Fierra, called by Astarael, am here."
"All are present. Who now will speak?" Terren called out, directing her gaze to the water below her.
"I will speak." Yuma said, voice brimming with confidence.
"Speak your piece." Fierra said, nodding her approval.
"We all know that us necromancers face difficult lives. Many amongst our number have been chased to the far reaches of death, all by two people in particular-The Abhorsen, and the Abhorsen-in-waiting."
"Yes-our troubles can be blamed completely upon those two. What do you suggest we do about it, Yuma? It's not as if we can march right up to Sabriel, the Abhorsen Queen, and simply kill her." Raen stated matter-of- factly.
"Companions," Yuma said coolly, directing her gaze towards Raen "The Abhorsen Sabriel is no longer a threat."
"Do you mean to tell me that the legendary Sabriel is defeated?" Gahald chortled. Yuma nodded in response, and continued.
"Constant voyages into Death have wrought their toll upon the Abhorsen Queen. This morning, she simply did not wake up." Yuma's report was met with surprise as well as relief. Fierra raised a hand, and the small group fell silent. Inhur continued, expanding on what Yuma had stated.
"This means that Lirael, the Abhorsen-In-Waiting, is now the full fledged Abhorsen. She is newly come into her inheritance, and therefore, a vulnerable target."
"This means that now is our opportunity to destroy the Abhorsen line; to prevent her and future Abhorsens from meddling in our work." Raen rationalized, speaking everyone's thoughts aloud.
"So the time to strike is now." Gahald said simply. Fierra nodded.
"We all know the rules-A warning, separation, and chances to destroy her based on your bell. Chosen one of Ranna first, the Chosen one of Morasel next, and so on and so forth. Let the warning commence." All of those present placed a right hand to their bandoliers, withdrawing the bell that had 'called' them. The dark wooden handles all matched, all reeked of Free Magic. Raising their bells above their heads in a sort of salute, then holding them out before themselves, the group rang their bells in synchronicity. The result was a loud, overpowering sound that seemed to shake the foundations of Death. It was the kind of noise that would shake absolutely anyone to their innermost core. Of course, not everyone would be able to feel this mighty toll-it would only be those sensitive to Death who would feel it's strength, particularly the Abhorsen. The small group stilled their bells after a moment, as they themselves recovered from the onslaught of power within that sound. It was Fierra who regained her composure first.
"The warning is sounded. Who now dare stand against us?"
* * *
Meanwhile in Belisaere, Lirael stood next to Sabriel's limp body. Looking over the former Abhorsen, Lirael Goldenhand pursed her lips, placing a hand on her teacher and half-sister's forehead. Sameth, Touchstone, and Ellimere were gathered about too, their gazes flickering between the new and former Abhorsen.
"She is gone." Lirael said, her words falling heavily upon the room. Touchstone bowed his head, and Sameth fought back tears.
"You can go into Death, can't you? You could bring her back!" Ellimere spurted, looking at her aunt with fervent hope. Lirael looked up blearily at her niece, and shook her head.
"I could, but I can't." She explained half-heartedly.
"What do you mean? You're the Abhorsen-In-Waiting! You could save her!" Ellimere screeched, grasping at Aunt's right hand; the hand of gold and Charter Magic that Sameth had wrought for her years ago, after the binding of the Destroyer. Many long years had passed since then. Sabriel had aged gracefully, but age she did. Her long dark hair was now shot through with grey, as was Touchstone's. Both had seen much trouble over their reign over the Old Kingdom. Sameth had been treated well by time. He was growing into a strong, capable young man, worthy of his Wallmaker heritage. Ellimere had grown in to a tall, graceful young woman-she would make a wonderful queen upon Touchstone's death. Lirael had remained the same grim, war-like woman she had seen when she looked in the mirror at the Abhorsen's house, just after realizing her true heritage. Her features, now worn slightly by time in Death, were still exactly the same as they had been upon that fateful day. Now, regarding her niece with pity and sorrow, she shook her head.
"Ellimere, I would like nothing more than to bring your mother back. I can't though. As the Abhorsen, it's my duty to uphold the balance between life and death. It was your mother's time to go, and you have to accept that. If I were to bring her back, I would be no better than the necromancers that your mother and I fight.fought." Lirael's voice trailed off as she finished, her gaze returning to Sabriel. The entire room fell silent for a moment as Touchstone leaned on his son for support. His grief- stricken face said more than any words could have. Ellimere broke the silence, releasing Lirael's hand.
"Is there nothing you can do?" She asked softly. Pursing her lips once more, Lirael closed her eyes, focusing her death-sense. From what she could tell, Sabriel had not died long ago. Opening her eyes, Lirael nodded.
"I can go into death, find her spirit. She should only be in the First Precinct."
"What would you do?" Ellimere asked, her voice growing a little stronger.
"Use Kibeth." Sameth whispered, his face and voice hollow. Lirael nodded yet again.
"I can command her spirit to walk beyond the Ninth precinct, to not be hindered by anything along the way."
"I think Sabriel would appreciate that." Touchstone said, his voice tired. Lirael regarded her brother-in-law sympathetically. She tried to find words that might soften the blow Sabriel's death had caused. Shaking her head, she came to the conclusion that any words she might have spoken would have probably done more harm than good. Lirael straightened up, removing her left hand from Sabriel's forehead. Closing her eyes once more, she felt for that familiar boundary between life and death. A Diamond of Protection was not needed-she was safe here in the Palace. She found the border quickly, and slipped through without much resistance. The next sensation Lirael experienced was the well-known tug of the river, and the low temperature of the water in which she stood. Placing her golden hand upon her bandolier, she drew Kibeth.
"Where are you Sabriel?" Lirael whispered, scanning the river before her. A strange ripple from about ten feet ahead caught her attention. Wading forward, Lirael peered into the murky river, and spotted Sabriel's form beneath the water. Using her free left hand, she reached into the water and took hold of Sabriel's hand. Sabriel's eyes flickered open as she was pulled up, and smiled in recognition at her former pupil.
"Hello, Lirael." The spirit said aloud, the sound dying nearly as soon as it came forth. Once Sabriel was standing upright, Lirael released her grip and smiled.
"Hey Sabriel. Death treating you well?" She joked, her lips twisting in a sarcastic grin.
"Can't complain-A lot different now that I'm actually dead. Come to see me off?" Sabriel grinned, pointing at the bell in Lirael's hand.
"Yes. They.They all miss you, you know." Lirael said, her voice falling flat. An expression of sorrow passed across Sabriel's face. Lirael had to look away. She could only imagine Sabriel's grief at having to leave her family for good.
"I know." Sabriel replied, downcast.
"They'll be fine. You just get to the Ninth Precinct, alright?" Lirael said, feigning strength.
"Promise you'll keep an eye on them all?" Sabriel implored, placing a hand on Lirael's shoulder.
"I promise." Lirael stated, raising Kibeth. She focused her will into the bell, and rang it with all her might. Better to focus her will into a bell than her own regret. As she rang Kibeth, she spoke.
"Go, Sabriel. Walk beyond the Ninth Precinct with all the speed you can, allowing nothing and no-one to stand in your way." Sabriel smiled weakly as she turned, and started her final journey through Death. Lirael stilled the Walker, and tucked it back into her bandolier. As she turned to leave, Death seemed to shake. A disharmony of notes was rocking the entire river. The strange noise came from bells-that was clear. The sound was overpowering, seemingly daring Lirael to do something about it. Sabriel's spirit, which was almost at the gate, fought against Kibeth to turn around.
"CALL ME BACK!" Sabriel screamed, fighting the power of the Walker that now bound her. The sound stopped, seeming to have lasted an eternity. Drawing Saraneth quickly, Lirael rang the Binder, bending the power of the bell to calling Sabriel back towards her. Sabriel walked back towards Lirael, against the current, and stopped just before her.
"What was that?" Lirael said, shaken by the strange, intoxicating power that the sound had held.
"Bells. All seven bells and the stench of Free Magic." Sabriel muttered.
"Necromancers." Lirael whispered.
"But why would they ring all seven bells together in Death?" Sabriel asked uneasily.
"This means that Death isn't safe." Lirael sighed, her grip on Saraneth growing tighter.
"Death has never been safe, Lirael." Sabriel said off-handedly, glancing over her shoulder.
"You need to go on your way, Sabriel." Lirael said softly, following Sabriel's gaze towards the First Gate. Switching Binder for Walker, Lirael rang Kibeth strong and true, and Sabriel began her final journey through Death yet again.
"I'm sorry I can't help you." Sabriel called over her shoulder as she walked forward.
"I know." Lirael grimaced, switching her bells once more.
"Good luck, Lirael." Sabriel called out as she disappeared through the First Gate. A confused Lirael nodded in response, and exited Death as quickly as she had come.
"About time." the first figure said curtly, his voice cutting through the gray air. "We were held up." Responded an equally harsh female voice, coming from the shorter of the two newcomers.
"Still no excuse, Terren." The first figure stated smugly.
"Lay off her, Gahald." The female's companion interjected.
"I don't recall asking for your input, Jakoli." Gahald hissed in response. Both figures' right hands reached to their sides beneath their dark cloaks, revealing blades hanging menacingly at their sides that stank of Free Magic. Oddly enough, none present seemed affected by the harsh metallic stench.
"Come off it, would you?" Terren said, her tone gaining an edge of annoyance. She drew Jakoli's hand away from his blade as Gahald released his own.
"Tell your lover to learn his place, Terren." Gahald said menacingly.
"If you were to learn yours, he wouldn't have to." Terren responded, her eyes narrowing.
"Well, well, well. . .at it already, are we?" a new female voice interrupted, as yet another cloaked figure entered the precinct. Gahald, Terren, and Jakoli nodded a greeting to their newest companion as she joined the small group in the center.
"Hello Yuma." Terren said warmly, embracing the newcomer. The two women hugged as Jakoli and Gahald looked on in distaste. "Must you resort to such displays of affection in my presence?" Gahald muttered.
"If it bothers you that much, then leave." Terren growled as she released Yuma.
"Easy Terren. We all need to be present here, and we all have to get along. Can you please be civil to each other as long as we are here?" Yuma asked, her glance passing between Gahald and Terren.
"When she shows the least bit of respect towards me, I will show her the same courtesy." Gahald said shortly.
"Where are the others?" Jakoli asked, cutting off the last of Gahald's words. Yuma shrugged.
"I entered alone. It's getting less and less safe to travel in groups, or even pairs." She observed, casting mild a glance towards Jakoli.
"Our bodies are well protected, if that's what you mean." Terren said, spotting the jab at her and her lover.
"I would hope so." Came a new voice, emanating from a figure just passing into the precinct. His tone dripping with amusement, the new figure brushed itself off.
"Greetings, Inhur." Gahald said, his voice showing relief at this latest arrival.
"It has been too long, my friend." Inhur said, approaching the group and shaking hands with Gahald.
"Yes, but we are here now, and that is what matters." Gahald replied as he released Inhur's hand. All five cloaked figures present nodded their agreement. Unconsciously moving into a circle formation, they chatted quietly amongst themselves. Jakoli took a place next to Terren, Yuma next to Terren, Gahald next to her, and Inhur standing between Jakoli and Gahald.
"Do any of us know where Fierra or Raen is?" Inhur questioned, his inquiry being met with a variety of answers that all translated simply to no. With these words, another figure entered the precinct, joining the circle with a muffled hello.
"Greetings, Raen." Annet intoned.
"Greetings. Make room for Fierra-she's on her way." Raen replied as the group widened, and a space formed between Inhur and Jakoli. As they did so, a final figure emerged, joining the circle quietly, without even a nod of recognition towards her companions. An air of ceremony suddenly permeated the small circle.
"Let us begin." Jakoli said aloud, bowing in Fierra's direction. The latest newcomer bowed shallowly in return, and the small congregation of cloaked figures followed suit. Upon their rising, Fierra cleared her throat.
"By the bells we are called, and by the bells we are here. Who is present?" Fierra called out in a powerful voice.
"I, Terren, called by Ranna, am here."
"I, Jakoli, called by Mosrael, am here."
"I, Yuma, called by Kibeth, am here."
"I, Inhur, called by Dyrim, am here."
"I, Raen, called by Belgaer, am here."
"I, Gahald, called by Saraneth, am here."
"And I, Fierra, called by Astarael, am here."
"All are present. Who now will speak?" Terren called out, directing her gaze to the water below her.
"I will speak." Yuma said, voice brimming with confidence.
"Speak your piece." Fierra said, nodding her approval.
"We all know that us necromancers face difficult lives. Many amongst our number have been chased to the far reaches of death, all by two people in particular-The Abhorsen, and the Abhorsen-in-waiting."
"Yes-our troubles can be blamed completely upon those two. What do you suggest we do about it, Yuma? It's not as if we can march right up to Sabriel, the Abhorsen Queen, and simply kill her." Raen stated matter-of- factly.
"Companions," Yuma said coolly, directing her gaze towards Raen "The Abhorsen Sabriel is no longer a threat."
"Do you mean to tell me that the legendary Sabriel is defeated?" Gahald chortled. Yuma nodded in response, and continued.
"Constant voyages into Death have wrought their toll upon the Abhorsen Queen. This morning, she simply did not wake up." Yuma's report was met with surprise as well as relief. Fierra raised a hand, and the small group fell silent. Inhur continued, expanding on what Yuma had stated.
"This means that Lirael, the Abhorsen-In-Waiting, is now the full fledged Abhorsen. She is newly come into her inheritance, and therefore, a vulnerable target."
"This means that now is our opportunity to destroy the Abhorsen line; to prevent her and future Abhorsens from meddling in our work." Raen rationalized, speaking everyone's thoughts aloud.
"So the time to strike is now." Gahald said simply. Fierra nodded.
"We all know the rules-A warning, separation, and chances to destroy her based on your bell. Chosen one of Ranna first, the Chosen one of Morasel next, and so on and so forth. Let the warning commence." All of those present placed a right hand to their bandoliers, withdrawing the bell that had 'called' them. The dark wooden handles all matched, all reeked of Free Magic. Raising their bells above their heads in a sort of salute, then holding them out before themselves, the group rang their bells in synchronicity. The result was a loud, overpowering sound that seemed to shake the foundations of Death. It was the kind of noise that would shake absolutely anyone to their innermost core. Of course, not everyone would be able to feel this mighty toll-it would only be those sensitive to Death who would feel it's strength, particularly the Abhorsen. The small group stilled their bells after a moment, as they themselves recovered from the onslaught of power within that sound. It was Fierra who regained her composure first.
"The warning is sounded. Who now dare stand against us?"
* * *
Meanwhile in Belisaere, Lirael stood next to Sabriel's limp body. Looking over the former Abhorsen, Lirael Goldenhand pursed her lips, placing a hand on her teacher and half-sister's forehead. Sameth, Touchstone, and Ellimere were gathered about too, their gazes flickering between the new and former Abhorsen.
"She is gone." Lirael said, her words falling heavily upon the room. Touchstone bowed his head, and Sameth fought back tears.
"You can go into Death, can't you? You could bring her back!" Ellimere spurted, looking at her aunt with fervent hope. Lirael looked up blearily at her niece, and shook her head.
"I could, but I can't." She explained half-heartedly.
"What do you mean? You're the Abhorsen-In-Waiting! You could save her!" Ellimere screeched, grasping at Aunt's right hand; the hand of gold and Charter Magic that Sameth had wrought for her years ago, after the binding of the Destroyer. Many long years had passed since then. Sabriel had aged gracefully, but age she did. Her long dark hair was now shot through with grey, as was Touchstone's. Both had seen much trouble over their reign over the Old Kingdom. Sameth had been treated well by time. He was growing into a strong, capable young man, worthy of his Wallmaker heritage. Ellimere had grown in to a tall, graceful young woman-she would make a wonderful queen upon Touchstone's death. Lirael had remained the same grim, war-like woman she had seen when she looked in the mirror at the Abhorsen's house, just after realizing her true heritage. Her features, now worn slightly by time in Death, were still exactly the same as they had been upon that fateful day. Now, regarding her niece with pity and sorrow, she shook her head.
"Ellimere, I would like nothing more than to bring your mother back. I can't though. As the Abhorsen, it's my duty to uphold the balance between life and death. It was your mother's time to go, and you have to accept that. If I were to bring her back, I would be no better than the necromancers that your mother and I fight.fought." Lirael's voice trailed off as she finished, her gaze returning to Sabriel. The entire room fell silent for a moment as Touchstone leaned on his son for support. His grief- stricken face said more than any words could have. Ellimere broke the silence, releasing Lirael's hand.
"Is there nothing you can do?" She asked softly. Pursing her lips once more, Lirael closed her eyes, focusing her death-sense. From what she could tell, Sabriel had not died long ago. Opening her eyes, Lirael nodded.
"I can go into death, find her spirit. She should only be in the First Precinct."
"What would you do?" Ellimere asked, her voice growing a little stronger.
"Use Kibeth." Sameth whispered, his face and voice hollow. Lirael nodded yet again.
"I can command her spirit to walk beyond the Ninth precinct, to not be hindered by anything along the way."
"I think Sabriel would appreciate that." Touchstone said, his voice tired. Lirael regarded her brother-in-law sympathetically. She tried to find words that might soften the blow Sabriel's death had caused. Shaking her head, she came to the conclusion that any words she might have spoken would have probably done more harm than good. Lirael straightened up, removing her left hand from Sabriel's forehead. Closing her eyes once more, she felt for that familiar boundary between life and death. A Diamond of Protection was not needed-she was safe here in the Palace. She found the border quickly, and slipped through without much resistance. The next sensation Lirael experienced was the well-known tug of the river, and the low temperature of the water in which she stood. Placing her golden hand upon her bandolier, she drew Kibeth.
"Where are you Sabriel?" Lirael whispered, scanning the river before her. A strange ripple from about ten feet ahead caught her attention. Wading forward, Lirael peered into the murky river, and spotted Sabriel's form beneath the water. Using her free left hand, she reached into the water and took hold of Sabriel's hand. Sabriel's eyes flickered open as she was pulled up, and smiled in recognition at her former pupil.
"Hello, Lirael." The spirit said aloud, the sound dying nearly as soon as it came forth. Once Sabriel was standing upright, Lirael released her grip and smiled.
"Hey Sabriel. Death treating you well?" She joked, her lips twisting in a sarcastic grin.
"Can't complain-A lot different now that I'm actually dead. Come to see me off?" Sabriel grinned, pointing at the bell in Lirael's hand.
"Yes. They.They all miss you, you know." Lirael said, her voice falling flat. An expression of sorrow passed across Sabriel's face. Lirael had to look away. She could only imagine Sabriel's grief at having to leave her family for good.
"I know." Sabriel replied, downcast.
"They'll be fine. You just get to the Ninth Precinct, alright?" Lirael said, feigning strength.
"Promise you'll keep an eye on them all?" Sabriel implored, placing a hand on Lirael's shoulder.
"I promise." Lirael stated, raising Kibeth. She focused her will into the bell, and rang it with all her might. Better to focus her will into a bell than her own regret. As she rang Kibeth, she spoke.
"Go, Sabriel. Walk beyond the Ninth Precinct with all the speed you can, allowing nothing and no-one to stand in your way." Sabriel smiled weakly as she turned, and started her final journey through Death. Lirael stilled the Walker, and tucked it back into her bandolier. As she turned to leave, Death seemed to shake. A disharmony of notes was rocking the entire river. The strange noise came from bells-that was clear. The sound was overpowering, seemingly daring Lirael to do something about it. Sabriel's spirit, which was almost at the gate, fought against Kibeth to turn around.
"CALL ME BACK!" Sabriel screamed, fighting the power of the Walker that now bound her. The sound stopped, seeming to have lasted an eternity. Drawing Saraneth quickly, Lirael rang the Binder, bending the power of the bell to calling Sabriel back towards her. Sabriel walked back towards Lirael, against the current, and stopped just before her.
"What was that?" Lirael said, shaken by the strange, intoxicating power that the sound had held.
"Bells. All seven bells and the stench of Free Magic." Sabriel muttered.
"Necromancers." Lirael whispered.
"But why would they ring all seven bells together in Death?" Sabriel asked uneasily.
"This means that Death isn't safe." Lirael sighed, her grip on Saraneth growing tighter.
"Death has never been safe, Lirael." Sabriel said off-handedly, glancing over her shoulder.
"You need to go on your way, Sabriel." Lirael said softly, following Sabriel's gaze towards the First Gate. Switching Binder for Walker, Lirael rang Kibeth strong and true, and Sabriel began her final journey through Death yet again.
"I'm sorry I can't help you." Sabriel called over her shoulder as she walked forward.
"I know." Lirael grimaced, switching her bells once more.
"Good luck, Lirael." Sabriel called out as she disappeared through the First Gate. A confused Lirael nodded in response, and exited Death as quickly as she had come.