Sabriel stole quietly up the hill towards the reservoir. Full dark would soon be upon her, and she moved quickly, in the brightest of the light remaining, which in truth wasn't much. Her bandolier was strung across her chest, and she held a bag of beeswax in her hand. Her thoughts kept themselves quiet on the long walk up, not voicing themselves until she stood above the North Stairs leading down to the dark depths of the Reservoir. Suppressing a shiver, she pulled her sword from its sheath and, holding it in front of her, plunged headfirst down the stairs into the darkness.

The stairs were surprisingly deserted, and her footsteps echoed around her. She could hear the water lapping against the marble barriers and the bases of the broken stones, the frightened whispers of the adolescents who waited on the barges below. Someone being sick; the power of the broken stones was strong still. Emerging at the bottom of the flight, Sabriel looked out across the water towards the barges in the middle. Two groups of people, most no older than herself, huddled together as far from the stones as the barges would allow. Holding both sword and bag high above her head, she slipped into the water, wadding as softly as possible out to the closest barge. The ripples she made splashed against the marble and wood, ricocheting throughout the expanse. Hands reached out to help her up, and the frightened murmurings stopped as she gained the barge. The nausea was already gripping her innards, and she felt light-headed, but she fought the symptoms off and put on a confident front.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, sheathing the sword and dropping her bundle.

"Two hours, milady. We have heard stirrings outside, but so far none have entered. We think they are waiting for full dark?"

"Yes, they most likely are. I didn't happen upon any on my way up, but I was careful not to, else they be scared away," she said, bending to retrieve the burlap bag she had brought. "This is beeswax. You are all to put it in your ears and are not to take it out, no matter what may happen. Do you all understand?" They all nodded, and she began passing the bag around, watching as they all pushed some of the substance into their ears. Once both barges had used the bag, she placed it on the edge of the boat, and slid into the middle of the group, concealing herself as best as possible. Now all that was left to do was wait.

They didn't have to wait long. As the last sliver of sunlight slid from view, the reservoir became gloomily dark, the water eerie and murky, as though some great monster lurked in its depths. With the going in of the sun, the Dead came out, in trickles at first, of only a few. But as they sensed the Life in their domain, they poured out of their shadowy hiding places, sliding down the stairs and surrounding the water like a thick, black hoard. Where there had been anxious and excited mutterings on the barges before, now there was only silence - silence and tremors of fear.

Sabriel stood quietly in the middle of the barge closest to the center of the pool, closest to the broken stones. She could feel Death beyond them, just a breath away, the presences lurking just beyond the First Precinct. Daunting as it was, she couldn't back away now. Her eyes accustomed to the darkness, she peered at the sides of the room, trying to gauge the number of Dead here. She couldn't guess their amount, one hundred, two, one thousand? Perhaps she should just wait until the midnight bell sounded in the wharf; she was certain that all of the Dead would be out by then. And they would all follow her into Death.

Hours, it seemed, passed by, and still the numbers of Dead appeared to grow larger by the score. Those assembled, both on the water and out of it, were becoming apprehensive. Just how much longer would Sabriel wait until she acted? That exact thought seemed to be crossing a lot of minds, Sabriel's included. She looked around her, at all of the innocents surrounding her. This would be the last time she endangered the lives of guiltless people. She was getting rid of the Dead, sending them back to Death where they belonged. Once Belisaere was free, her job was done. Then she could leave Touchstone and Mogget and everyone else to live their normal lives, just like they had before all of this had started, before she had changed everything. But I love him, and he loves me, regardless of the fact that I've just about ruined his kingdom. What will my leaving, for good, forever, do to him?

Oh, he'll get on somehow. There are enough women out there who'd give anything to be Queen.

But what if-

Her mental argument with herself was cut off when a flash of white interrupted the darkness of the space. A few people screamed and nearly fell off of the barges when the white object landed on her shoulder, claws sinking in deep, regardless of the armour she was wearing.

"Mogget," she hissed, crouching even lower so the Dead wouldn't see her. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"And to think, I thought you would be happy to see me, not to mention hear my news. But I guess I'll just leave, seeing as I'm not wanted here."

"Mogget, what news?"

"Oh, so now you're interested are you? And what do I get in return?"

"Your life?" Sabriel muttered through clenched teeth. "I don't have time to waste here, just tell me and go."

"Fine then. I'll remember all of that when I'm finally free. No mercy for you."

"Just tell me!"

"I just thought you'd like to know that all of the Dead wandering the city are currently packing the stairwells, and spilling out into the courtyard. They should all be able to hear your bells."

"Oh. Erm, thank you."

"Yeah, you're not welcome," he grumbled, curling himself around her neck and promptly falling asleep.

Sabriel slowly pulled herself upright, releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding as she stood. This is it. Sighing, she placed her hand upon her bandolier, reaching for the largest bell it held. Carefully, she unbuckled the strap restraining it and grabbed the clapper to keep it from sounding even in the slightest. She closed her eyes and held the bell close to her chest, breathing deeply, slowly. In one final instant, she thought of Touchstone.

"I love you," she whispered, then removed her fingers from inside the bell, freeing the clapper. As she let her wrist go, ringing the bell, she heard a great moan from the Dead assembled. But the sound rang true, pure, mournful. Astarael sang, and the Dead followed Sabriel into Death.

A/N: I know, I made you all wait for ages on this chapter. I apologize. I've had part of it written, but it wasn't very easy for me to write. And I left you with a cliffhanger. I'm sorry! Don't spork me! I've been, well, preoccupied. With loads of stuff that I wish I hadn't been, but I can't control my life. But it is holidays now, so maybe, if I buckle down, I can get something written and you won't hate me again.