The next day, Sabriel and Ellimere parted with the others. It was not a sentimental parting, since that would reveal that they were worried, and it was not good to show fear. The two women climbed into the Paperwing, while the others looked on in silent reverence. When the Abhorsen whistled the Charter Marks to lift off, Touchstone raised his hand in farewell, and Sabriel did likewise. It would be their only acknowledgement that they were parting: they would, after all, be reunited very soon. But Lirael's feeling of unease increased as she watched the Queen and her daughter disappear into the distance. It was impossible not to think that if anything happened to Sabriel, she would be the one to take her place.
She was forced to abate that feeling, however, and smile as though everything was all right. The others had been able to return to daily life as though nothing had happened; only she knew better. Sameth had disappeared off to his workshop, and Lirael knew that instead of making toys he was figuring out the monstrous task ahead of him.
So she went to visit him, having nothing else better to do than sit around and worry constantly. He was absently tinkering at some thing or another, but Lirael could plainly see his mind was elsewhere. Apparently she was not the only one who worried. She sat on one of the workbenches nearby, and watched on in silence.
Finally she said, "Do you think…they'll be able to help the Clayr?"
Sam didn't answer for a moment, and Lirael wondered if she would have to repeat the question. He looked as though he was in some far-off land that only he could see. At length, he said, "They'll do what they can. Ellimere will probably organize schedules for all of them, and M—Sabriel will track down anything that'll try to take advantage of the Glacier melting. Of course, if the Glacier isn't actually melting…" he let that hang.
"But we can't hope for that," Lirael said miserably. She almost regretted not volunteering to go with Sabriel and Ellimere, but she knew that, should something happen to Sabriel, she would be the only one to replace her. But she was definitely frustrated, and saddened at the same time; she desperately wanted to be with her people, to do something instead of sitting around speculating.
"It can't hurt," replied Sam, in response to her despairing remark.
Lirael sighed. "What're you doing?" she asked him.
"I'm making a bracelet that changes color whenever the wearer wills it," he answered, showing her his progress. "I think that Ellimere would like it…she's always fond of trinkets—"
"It's pretty," Lirael said absently, not looking at it. "But what are you thinking?"
Sam set the bracelet back on the table and turned to face her, giving her his total attention for the first time. "Thinking about—how to rebuild the Glacier," he said shortly.
"But it's impossible," Lirael found herself protesting. "You're just one person, and the Glacier's made of ice, not brick or metal. Even if you could build something that big…you'd have to shape it around the mountains, and you'd have to build the Observatory, which is basically part of the Clayr's magic—"
"Lirael," he said patiently, "don't you think I know all that? It's not impossible, and I wouldn't be alone. Surely there are people who can build regular walls and things like that…if I could enlist their help, I could add the magic later, and it could work."
Lirael shook her head. "It's crazy, and I hope it won't have to come to that. The Glacier's slow at melting…" But she was unsure. What if it did come to that the only hope of the Clayr's survival lay in the hands of a single, inexperienced Wallmaker?
Sam had no answer to that. Instead, he said, "I think we should go to Nick now. It's time for his Charter lesson…"
"I'll help," Lirael volunteered. "Since there's nothing else to do…"
"I'm warning you," Sam said, "he's quite good at two things: fire and healing. Those are his strong points. C'mon, he's waiting…"
Lirael followed her nephew through the palace, which had everyday life going on as usual. No one would have guessed that the Queen and the Princess were gone on an important, somewhat dangerous, and very futile mission.
They found Nicholas Sayre in the courtyard, waiting for them, his head tilted to one side with a slight dreamy look; clearly his attention was elsewhere, as had been Sam's. But, from the looks of it, Nick's daydream was more pleasant.
"'Lo, Nick," greeted Sam sitting beside his friend.
He was instantly roused. "Ah, hello there Sam! And Lirael," he added in slight surprise, just noticing her. "What brings you here?"
"I believe you have a Charter lesson due at the moment," she replied with a thin smile.
He blinked, then smiled. "Oh, of course. Naturally. I didn't realize—ah, you're helping, Lirael?"
She shrugged, the smile remaining. "Nothing better to do," she said honestly.
"I appreciate the concern," Nick said somewhat dryly. He turned and slapped Sam on the back. "Well, let's begin, ol' friend. What's on the agenda today?"
"Show Lirael your fireball," urged Sam.
Nick looked stricken. "I wouldn't want it to set anything afire!" he protested.
"Then don't send it anywhere," Lirael pointed out the obvious answer.
Nick looked sheepish. "Ah, yes, of course." He seemed to be uncertain, and tried to concentrate on the Charter—but clearly, having an audience other than his usual tutor increased his nerves and self-conscience. He fumbled once, then twice, getting a spark but nothing more.
"Relax," ordered Sam calmly, "focus. There's just you and the Charter…"
As Nick obeyed, he spoke the Charter Mark, and a very healthy ball of fire expanded in his hands. He inflated it, then caused it to spin, then to swirl around him, then dissipated it with a clap of his hands. Lirael had seen more impressive demonstrations, but given their confined space and the chance that they may injure someone, it was all in all not bad. Especially considering how long Nick had been taking lessons—and how long he'd even started believing in magic. And he wasn't tired from his efforts in the slightest! Clearly he had plenty of energy to expend.
"Now your healing," persuaded Sam. Obviously he wanted Nick to impress Lirael with his stronger points in magic.
"But what's there to heal?" Nick asked. "I don't really intend on cutting myself, so—"
"You can heal fatigue, right?" asked Lirael. "Well, I'm rather tired. Perhaps you can heal that."
Nick seemed startled at the suggestion, but nodded. "I'll, ah, try my best." He closed his eyes, and reached into the Charter once more. Now that he had done it once without stumbling, it was easier for him to do it again. He spoke another Mark, and Lirael felt like she was plunging through cool water—though she wasn't getting wet. When it ended, she found she was feeling much more energetic, and no trace of her weariness at all.
"Thank you," she said, smiling graciously at Nick. He scratched his head sheepishly, accepting her gratitude with something resembling shyness. But that was ridiculous—Nick was anything but shy.
"Don't let these little demonstrations fool you," Sam told Lirael. "Nick's a better healer than I've ever been. He always seems to have energy for more, too. I swear, we should employ him as a village healer." He grinned at his friend.
"Oh, no," Nick protested. "How would I ever discover anything interesting if I lived my life as a hermit? No, no, I'll stay here, thank you!"
"Still," Sam persisted, "you must admit you have a knack."
"Fine, I have a knack," said Nick, seeming a little exasperated. "Now, can we get on with the lesson?"
Lirael found herself smiling as she followed their dialogue, her feeling of apprehension momentarily forgotten. Apparently, fatigue was not all Nick could cure her of.
A/N: Hmm…another abrupt ending…well, this was just a filler chapter. The next one should be more interesting. Thank you, faithful readers, for reading on! I hope I won't disappoint you.