Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I would've already published 12 books. But I haven't even published one, ergo, I do not own these characters.
A/N: -pokes- I neeed more reviews... I neeeeds them, preciousssss. Also, sorry about the long wait... would've been shorter, but I went on vacation to Canadia! Um... Canada... sorry.
They found the village that evening, after dusk had fallen and shadows overtook the land. Lirael and Nick stood at the top of a small rise in silence, watching the village.
All the lights were out; the doors were closed. Lirael, studying the houses, could only see a faint flickering light from some hearthside fire, banked for the night.
"Already in bed," she said, beginning to walk down the slope. "We can find their Charter Stone, sleep by that for tonight."
"Won't there be an inn, at least?" Nick asked, hurrying to catch up with her and half-sliding down the incline.
"Probably, but the innkeeper is probably already asleep too," said Lirael. "And I forgot to ask Sanar or Ryelle for money. Ow!" This last was surprised; she stopped in her scramble down the hill and closed her eyes, grimacing.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Nick said worriedly, coming down the last few feet in a slide and arriving next to Lirael.
Lirael smiled weakly at the phrase. "My Death sense," she explained, opening her eyes. "It... startled me. Maybe they buried someone lately."
Nick frowned. "Death sense?" he asked.
"Oh. Sorry." Lirael paused for a moment. "It's... a feeling, a sense, that I get when people have died nearby, or there are Dead near. Sabriel has it, too, of course; she's the Abhorsen. And Sam. Ellimere I'm not sure about. And... something the Disrep—Kibeth said once... I think some of the Clayr must have it too."
Nick remained silent through this muddled explanation. "It just tells you if there's something Dead, then. Doesn't sound too useful to me."
"If I can touch whoever's dead, I can sense how long they've... been dead," Lirael answered absently, staring down at the town. "And if they're brought back from Death, like Hands, or Mordicants are, by a necromancer, it tells me what sort they are. Right now, though, it's just twinging." She sighed. "We should keep going," she said half-heartedly, but started down the hill again anyway. Nick followed.
They arrived at the bottom of the slope dusty but unharmed; Yrael hadn't woken, to the unspoken relief of both Nick and Lirael.
Lirael whispered a Charter mark, and light bloomed in her hand. She led the way through the darkened streets, light held high. Her Death sense pressed at her, but she pushed it away determinedly. Nick came behind, in a dim gloom—the light was weak and didn't do much but push back the darkness a bit. He stumbled over something, mentally swore, and looked down. The building he stood near was an inn, the sign visible even in the night and proclaiming it to be called the Sword and Trumpet. The something he had tripped over was a man's legs. Figuring that the man was drunk, Nick ran after Lirael's soft light and thought no more on it.
He found her staring numbly at the village's Charter Stone. The only Charter Stones Nick had seen were the Great ones, in the reservoir beneath the palace, but even so he could tell that there was something wrong with this Charter Stone.
"Broken," Lirael muttered. "Why did they not See this, so close to their Glacier?" She shook her head slowly, then turned it to look at Nick. Both of them looked back at the flickering lights they had taken for hearthside fires. Lirael swallowed, bile rising in her throat, Death sense rising unchecked and almost overwhelming her. She stepped backwards, and stepped again, until she was out of its influence enough to reach into the Charter. Lirael plucked two out of its neverending spiral, and whispered their names to herself as her light brightened, throwing everything into sharp relief as light flowed over it. She blinked back tears at its brilliance, as did Nick. Together they walked to investigate the town once more, Lirael loosening her sword with one hand and repeating the names of the bells and their uses to herself, should the need come to ring them.
The fires were the dying embers of a fire that had swept the town, blackening buildings and collapsing inner structures. Dead lay in almost every house; the man Nick had taken for drunk was dead, throat slit. Some of the bodies were headless, and others were not. Lirael walked among them all, tense, awaiting an attack from any quarter. Nick followed, sword hilt clenched in one hand, posture stiff. Finally, after what seemed an eternity had passed, they had seen all the dead, walked through all the houses. Lirael stopped in the middle of a street and glanced around.
"They're all gone," she said softly, disbelievingly. "The Clayr should have Seen this. They should have prevented it." She looked around again, expecting to see one child left, one of the elderly, one adult in hiding. "Even their Charter mages," Lirael said. "What did this?" She strode back down the street, into the heart of the village, toward the broken Charter Stone. A Charter Mage lay there, throat slit, sightless eyes open. Lirael swallowed and gently closed the mage's eyelids, then stepped back to draw marks in the air. Nick nearly asked what they were, but stopped himself and simply watched as she completed the last one. Flames licked up, leaning away from the broken Stone as if in a wind. All was ashes when the fire burned out. Lirael sighed heavily. "Go swiftly," she said to the ashes. "And do not look back."
Yrael wound his way out of her pack and onto her shoulder, green eyes intrigued. His tongue darted out to taste the air, then drew back. Yrael looked startled, but quickly sank back into his usual mocking half-smile. He glanced around. "I notice you have failed to procure sardines, Abhorsen-in-Waiting," Yrael said lazily, draping himself across Lirael's shoulder and winking slyly at Nick.
Nick frowned and almost spoke, but thought better of what he was planning to say. "They're dead, Yrael, all dead," he said harshly. "How can you think about sardines?"
"Very easily," Yrael retorted. "People come, people go. Abhorsens come, Abhorsens go. Except for one..." A secret smile spread itself across Yrael's face, almost a smirk. There was a short pause, and Yrael said, "Well, if you really must send all these on, I'd suggest getting on with it. It's getting late."
Lirael sighed. "I suppose," she said, and slowly trod over to the nearest body, Yrael leaping easily to the ground. "Nick—"He came to watch as she slowly drew the Charter marks for cleansing, burning, peace and sleep in an order every Charter mage knew. An ember lit, and swiftly it lit into an inferno which settled into ash in mere seconds.
Nick nodded, and moved to the next one, Lirael following. They did that sequence together, then moved on separately, Lirael sure now that Nick knew the marks. Yrael watched as fire flared at different points within the village, then disappeared. He tasted the air again, and smiled in recognition. "The one who did not go," he murmured, and curled up on the ground, meaning to use the time wisely--sleeping.
A/N: Ooh! Dontcha just love foreshadowing? XDD Spiffy spiffy. Next chapter probably within a week... I hope... erm... don't kill me if I don't get it done. 'Cause it's a long walk back. –nods- Oh, and I would've written more in Canadia, but I fergot to bring my copies of the books. –tear- Well, anywho. I'm back now. Celebrate! Wh00!