Mogget did the first thing that came to his mind. Mogget, as a cat once more, ran. He dashed along the ground as quickly as a white streak of lightning, until his collar became entangled in a large dead bush. The collar, decayed from the exposure to Free Magic, and not yet sealed with a bell, tore from the strain. Mogget continued his mad dash for a moment, but no longer. In that fraction of a second, Mogget was once again transformed into his raw shape of Yrael, eighth of the nine bright shiners.

The Stilken, having seen the being of immense power before it, slowly backed away. Yrael moved faster, and in one smooth motion absorbed the Stilken's essence into himself. Exhausted from the momentary battle, and still at war with the spirit inside him, lay down to rest.
What could he do? In this elemental form, he would barely be able to touch the metal. The Charter magic in it would combat the Free Magic Yrael produced too strongly to grip for more than a second. Perhaps for now he would just stay here, rest a while longer while his head stopped spinning.

Though Mogget had no wish to harm the Abhorsen or her family at the moment, and the fish dinner awaiting him was very tempting, the spirit of the Stilken inside him was still strong... And it wanted revenge. Revenge, against the girl who had bound it, and the bloodline of Charter who had done so before that. The Stilken found some dark corner of Mogget's heart, where the desire to annihilate all living Abhorsens still raged, and the two merged. An overpowering will fed on the rest of Yrael, even to his very thoughts, where he was attempting to conceal the locations of Sabriel and Lirael. But the small part of Mogget left to resist could not hold out for long, and the Stilken soon knew.

Mogget ran in hopes of reaching the House, or better yet, the Clayr's Glacier. If only his will to move could hold out long enough to warn the family, perhaps... Fast as Yrael moved, he was only eight miles north of the wall when The Stilken took over control of Yrael's muscles as well as most of his mind. The only area Yrael was not forced to surrender was his speech, for it was strange to the Stilken, and it did not dare invade that section of the being's mind.

The Stilken, in its new-found power and knowledge and power, raced off to Belisaere. It knew that two hours would be required to travel that far, and it longed for revenge. This longing gave it speed beyond reason, and before the night was upon it, the Stilken had reached the Abhorsen's house.

It knew that there was one of them inside. Even without the knowledge of that which was called Yrael, it could sense the blood in the house. It wasn't the blood of an Abhorsen, that was certain. But what the Stilken sensed was better yet. A wallmaker, that was the status of he who had first imprisoned him. And wallmaker, too, was inside that house.

The Stilken charged, its brain infused with a plot , now not only for revenge, but for the opportunity for a particularly savory meal as well. For the blood of a Charter mag was delicious, and this one was very strong indeed. It never saw the river till it was too late, and the Stilken tumbled in with an ear-shattering shriek.

The Stilken raged against the mighty Ratterlin with all its strength, but the river seemed to rush all the faster as it did so. Within a minute, the Ratterlin had dragged the Stilken away from the House and to the brink of the cliff.

Mogget didn't know what was happening. The Stilken's spirit was screaming, so something bad must have been happening to it. To him, he realized. But along with being frightened, the Stilken was distracted. this could be Mogget's one chance to regain control. He concentrated all his power on ridding himself of the Stilken. It started out very well. Mogget had already gained control of most of his body before the Stilken even noticed.

He gazed about, trying to see what was causing the Stilken such distress. The river! It burned and bound his spirit-flesh as he continued to thrash about. It was then that the Ratterlin took its steep and deadly fall down the cliff.

Mogget knew only one way to survive the drop and rocks below. It was still dangerous, for if even one piece was shattered... It was now or never, or rather, now or die. Mogget forced both his and the Stilken's spirits to separate into a thousand tiny pieces. Seconds later, there was a blue-tinted haze about the bottom of the cataract.

†††

Sabriel had been riding for days, traversing the borderlands to quell masses of dead that had been wandering aimlessly since Orannis's binding. Now, at last, she could return to her family. As she rode by the waterfall she though about just how splendid it looked this time of year. The base of it was wreathed in a halo of mist, hiding the jagged rocks that jutted out of the river's white surface. But, she thought, better to be getting on towards home than staring idly at water falling off a remarkably large bit of rock.

†††

As the water frothed and fell around him, Mogget tried to pull himself back together. He knew that he had been extremely fortunate, and that all of his spirit-stuff had stayed intact. The Stilken would still occupy part of his being when he got himself back to normal, but at least he would be in control.

After regaining his shape, Yrael spied something in the distance moving towards the house. A horse, perhaps, or possibly.…. The horse turned, and Mogget could see that there was someone on its back. Sabriel! She always wore the silver ring of binding on her finger. If only he could reach her, she would bind him, therefore separating himself and the Stilken. With one mighty lurch he threw himself out of the river.

"Sabriel!" he called out. "Sabriel, I'm behind you!" He rushed towards her, but she rode on without pausing. Within seconds, she was crossing the first of the jumping-stones.

Mogget knew that even he could not cross such a river, as the Stilken had been reminded of so shortly before. His only hope now was Lirael in the Clayr's glacier, whom Sabriel had entrusted her second ring to. It was a great expanse of land to cross, but he could be there within an hour or two if the Stilken stayed quiet.

†††

With everyone else out of the house, it had been eerily quiet. But, this provided the perfect opportunity for Sam to finish the creation of the gethre. His only distraction would be hunger, and he had learned to ignore that long ago.

Surprisingly, it had taken less than an hour to fill his head with the marks . He had suspected that it would take much longer, but then his work had already been halfway completed. He had still had to spend the previous five hours completing a suit of slightly magical clay to cast the hardening charms on, though.

He was somewhat concerned that Mogget hadn't returned by now, but that was fine for him. At least he wouldn't have to listen to any cat-calls from under the table.

Sameth could feel the sheer power of the marks as they flew from his head to mouth and fingers, then finally down to the ceramic suit at his feet. Just as haran, the last mark, jumped to the newly-made gethre, Sam heard the soft snick of a closing door. He cast one sidelong glance at his completed work and ran downstairs.

A/N For anyone who may be wondering, its just Sabriel at the door. Might be good to know considering we won't see either of them for about 6 years.