Lirael and Nick picked up Tori, still unconscious from the loss of blood, and between the two of them they still had the strength to carry her out to the first hallway. There they set her down without exchanging a word. Lirael cast something like ten spells of protection, locking and warning, while Nick added his own marks to strengthen the spells.

Neither could recall how long it took them to finish, but they would both remember the sigh that the door seemed to make when they cast the last Charter mark.

They stood there, together, silently, for a long moment. Then Lirael turned and picked up Tori again, and Nick joined her. They opened the next four doors with ease, and Nick shoved open the last door, the big door, with his foot.

One of the Rangers – Hanna – on the other side carried Tori back to the crack, where the other Rangers still waited – except that the crack was gone. According to the Rangers, soon before Lirael, Nick, Tori and the Rangers returned the sheet of Charter marks has healed itself and the stones returned to the path. Lirael still insisted on testing the stones out for herself, but only briefly; they felt solid, the sheet of Charter marks was complete, and Lirael was exhausted.

They met Sameth and the rest of the Rangers at the doors to the Great Library, where Lirael's nephew checked the Charter Marks that all of them bore on their foreheads before letting them pass.

That was the last thing Lirael remembered before she fell, finally, asleep.

Tori awoke after what felt like an eternity. The room was dark, but she could tell without even turning on the lights that she was back in her own bed, in her own room.

She turned her head at figure she saw sitting by her bedside, and her spirit soared. It was Lirael, she had stayed, and she could tell Tori about what she still couldn't recall from the night before, and –

The figure noticed Tori's movement, and threw up Charter marks to light the room.

It was Tomer, not the Abhorsen-in-Waiting.

"Tori, can you tell me your name?"

"Torethele," she replied.

"You mother?"

"Edishi."

"Your father?"

"Yorenel."

"All right, how do you feel?" He leaned over her. "Are you hungry, or –"

As if activated by the word hungry, a sudden pain erupted from Tori's stomach, and she raised herself into a sitting position to better press at her abdomen.

"Seven Bells, I'm starving, make it stop…"

Tomer sprung up from his seat, walked to the door and leaned out of the doorframe, where another presumably Clayr stood. "Go get some food for her. Simple, hot and filling."

"Right away," the other Clayr replied, and Tori heard them walk away.

Tomer returned to Tori's bedside and cast three Charter marks onto her arm; the pain in her stomach subsided as they faded onto her skin. "Is that better?"

Tori nodded.

"Oh! I forgot. Lirael left this for you," the Healer said, and handed her a folded piece of paper, sealed with the Abhorsen's key sigil in wax.

Tori took the paper and leaned back onto her pillow, which Tomer had propped up onto her bedframe when she'd sat up.

Dear Torethele, it started,

Others have undoubtedly already told you this, but we bound the Wraedheren anew and sealed it (properly this time) in its chamber. I don't know how much you remember, so I'll summarize by saying that we went into Death together and bound the creature's spirit while in Life, Nicholas Sayre bound its body in five separate parts. You did an excellent job in the binding.

We recovered the bodies of the three Librarians that the Wraedheren killed. It had used their blood to try to release its mate, but it was unsuccessful. We held their Farewell the day before I left. They were good Librarians, and good women – I worked with two of them during my time in the Library.

I don't know if you remember this, but while we were in Death you told me that you'd never heard of a Librarian who had ever released a Free Magic creature into the Library before. I myself have heard of them (it's gossip that circulates unreliably through the Library, and these offending Librarians were few and far between in the history of the Great Library) but I am also guilty of releasing a creature on my own. A Stilken, specifically.

"I have the food!" the Clayr woman from before announced, and walked into the room with a tray. Tori raised her arms so that the woman could lay it on her lap, but instead she held it with one hand and pulled two supporting legs down.

"Here you go," she said, and lay it down so that the legs – actually four legs, two on each side connected by a wooden bar – rested on either side of Tori's legs.

Tori smelled the food, and her stomach grumbled, but she didn't set aside the letter.

It had lain bound in a room at the end of the tunnel hidden by the gates in the large garden chamber you sketched. I escaped before it could first, though, and I trapped it in the larger chamber until I discovered how to defeat it – for which, by the way, I had to sneak into Chief Librarian Vancelle's living quarters and steal her sword.

However, my predicament was better than yours: I was older than you are; a Stilken is nowhere near as powerful or hard to bind as a Wraedheren is; and (and I mean this with no insult to you) I am more confident, and more skilled, at Charter magic, than you are. That you were unable to bind the Wraedheren on your own, or prevent its escape, is no fault of your own.

Please forgive your mother, even though it will take some time for you to understand why. Our mothers often set us on paths that we do not desire, paths that aren't at all easy or clear. But at the end of the day, they mean their best and they try their most for us. I barely remember my mother, and it's perhaps the only thing I truly regret from my childhood.

Prince Sameth will probably still be here when you wake up. He's directing the rebuilding of the records room and the tunnel below it, and strengthening the spells that protect curious Librarians from what lays on the other side of those many doors.

Nicholas Sayre has been working with Tomer in the Infirmary over these past few days to develop spells that will better treat and prevent your panic attacks. No one should criticize you for them, either. That they occur to you speaks to neither your character nor your abilities.

I will return sometime in the next month to finalize the protective spells that surround the Wraedheren's chambers. I will also speak with you again, if you want, during the days that I will be in the Glacier.

If you ever want to discuss anything with me, you can send me a message via hawk. I've already spoken the Head of the Aviary, so they won't object to sending me your messages. While not out on Abhorsen duties I reside in the palace in Belisaere, and occasionally the House of the Abhorsen downriver on the Ratterlin River. I shall endeavor to respond to any letters you write quickly.

Yours,

Lirael, daughter of Arielle and Terciel

Abhorsen-in-Waiting, Remembrancer

Tori finished the letter, set it down and dug into her food.

The message came to Lirael at the Abhorsen's House, a week after she and Nick had returned from the Glacier. It had felt like she'd spent an eternity there, but according to Sabriel it had only been five days: Two days while they addressed the problem of the Wraedheren, and three more to recover and help Sam in his endeavor to reconstruct the rooms in the Library damaged by the events surrounding the creature's release.

Nick, upon returning to the Abhorsen's House, and with the boundless energy he seemed to always have, had immediately launched into a correspondence with the Healer Tomer, sending one hawk in particular back and forth from the Glacier. Ellimere, newly returned from Ancelstierre and curious to learn specifics of the trip – Lirael had been closeted with Sabriel to describe the more technical, magical elements of the endeavor – learned that they were discussing how different Charter marks affected different parts of the body.

On this particular day, the hawk had returned with two messages, each addressed with a different hand. Nick collected his usual scroll, labelled as "Nicholas Sayre, Scientist", and handed the second paper off to Lirael – "Abhorsen-in-Waiting and Remembrancer Lirael".

By just the label, Lirael knew who had written it – well, that and the handwriting, uneven and written by a hand still forming its patterns and habits.

She sat down at the desk in her bedroom and read the letter twice, once quickly and once more slower. She sat in silence for a while after finishing it the second time, thinking intently on how to respond.

Finally, Lirael decided what to write. She fetched a piece of blank paper from a drawer, dipped her quill in ink, and began to write her reply.