Disclaimer: I do not own the Abhorsen trilogy, belongs to Garth Nix. The song in which this is based: 'Bring me to Life' belongs to Evanescence.
She, the one called Sabriel, could tell there was something wrong with me. She saw it in my eyes. And indeed there was something troubling me. I sat by the fire in a place presumably called Holehallow. It was not here precisely in this dank place that I fell under the spell of my half-brother's treason, but in the reservoir with the Great Charter Stones.
He had stunk of Free Magic. Free Magic and blood. What had he said before everything became black?
Something about an Abhorsen. Yes, an Abhorsen. Being dead. And then I fell under the spell he weaved, watching as he caught my mother and sister's blood in a golden cup as if he were pouring a glass of wine. Then a numbing sensation overcame my fear and a current tugged at me. But I couldn't move. My spirit had been trapped in Death.
He is called Kerrigor now. The name to stir souls and plant a seed of fear in even the bravest of men's hearts, it was only a childhood plaything, this name, and yet he used it for his own foul purposes. I would have never guessed.
Or at least…
I figured out too late.
I had felt a presence in Death. I had felt Life but I knew I couldn't reach for it. I saw light and the faint glow of Life. I didn't seek to destroy it then but to grasp onto the thread and let this creature of Life pull me back.
Bring me to Life, I had silently pled, someone save me.
I had been trapped too long, sunlight stolen for a thousand years, so it seemed. Only open to the sunlight of Death. Gray, lifeless and frightening as the place it dwelled.
Death.
I had been trapped, held captive without a thought, without a voice, without a soul
Please, I pled.
Don't let me die here.
Don't let me die now.
There must be something more.
There is a reason I must return, please…
…Bring me to Life
A woman. Pale and raven-haired. The blue surcoat with embroidered silver keys, the bandolier of bells, sword sheath shimmering with Charter marks. An Abhorsen! I tried calling to her but I had no voice. I tried reaching but I had no freewill. She had seemed to be searching for something.
I saw raven hair spilled over thin shoulders and brown eyes; deep and questioning, gazing at me through the mirror-like surface that was the cold river of Death. She took me back to Life.
I felt the whisper, the barest stroke of breath, and I took it in, struggling to breath through a wooden chest. But I felt my muscles loosen and I was able to breathe again, I felt my head swim and the place spin. I stumbled and fell, trying to stop the dizziness. I had fallen into arms, the arms of the woman. The Abhorsen.
I felt cool ground, soft makeshift blankets and heard the crackling of fire when I woke from a true sleep. A white cat opened one green eye to scrutinize me. When he asked for my name, I could not remember.
I had a name.
Or at least two hundred years ago I did.
I had not slept for a thousand, as it had seemed, but two hundred.
I am called Touchstone now. A fool's name.
For I am a fool, or at least in the cat's eyes.
In the Abhorsen's--Sabriel's--eyes I am a broken man, with no memory of my past. But she is patient with me and I am patient with her. It is odd, these feelings of balance, when I have felt nothing except cold, hard regret.
But perhaps we can work together, the Abhorsen and I, to piece together the Old Kingdom and bring Kerrigor to the Ninth Gate.
Perhaps…
For I do not wish to hear Rogir's words again and have him laugh at my failure. I will not let this Abhorsen die.
She has freed me and I will not repay her with failure.
I will not lead her to Death, not after all she has done already.
I will not lead anyone to a meaningless death.
Not again.