"Right," Sam said after a moment of silence. "We have both the silver and the bell, so we may as well begin looking for a forge."
"A forge?"
"Yes, to heat the metal."
"I know that," Nick said, "but why? Can't you just heat it magically?"
"No. I'm afraid that I can't quite handle doing that and working the needed spells on the silver."
"So there is something you can't do! I knew it! I just knew there had to be something!"
Sam gave his friend a jab in the side. "Watch it, or I'll decide I can't keep the bugs off you either." His face cracked into a smug grin while Nick's smile melted. They both knew there was something about his blood that mosquitoes just couldn't stay away from.
"You'd really better watch it, Nicholas," Mogget added. "We're headed to the Long Cliffs next."
"Urggh," he groaned, just as Sam asked, "Why?"
Mogget ignored Nick's protest and answered the question. "Because you have exactly half the metal and you will need the greatest part to make the bell."
"I still don't see what this has to do with the Long Cliffs."
"You honestly haven't seen it yet. I thought Kibeth would have given it away with all her banter. 'Three thousand steps for water, but not a drop to drink.' I very nearly retrieved it right then and there," the cat remarked.
Lirael made a strangled sound in her throat. Dog had been gone for years, decades really, but she still wanted to strangle Mogget for speaking of her so. Strangle him, and perhaps throw him in the river when they got there. Instead, she simply said, "Let's go, then." It was nearly a full minute before she realized that everyone was staring at her as though she had gone mad. "What?"
"The sun's only three fingers from the horizon. We won't even make it to Hafmet before full dark, and you know the paperwings won't fly at night."
"Oh. I don't know how I forgot the time. In that case, I suppose we'd best make camp."
"Make a camp if you want," Mogget yawned. "I'll be in the paperwing. This land is far too squishy." Lirael stamped the ground experimentally before deciding that she, too, would sleep in the paperwing. She climbed in, tore a blanket out of her pack, and said goodnight before trying to get comfortable in the small space.
They were airborne again bright and early the next morning. Moments after waking, they had roused themselves enough to whistle up a wind strong enough to carry them to the Long Cliffs in a matter of an hour or so. Sure enough, they arrived before the sun was more than four fingers above the horizon. Lirael felt her heart drop a little lower in her chest when she realized that the space below the steps was, indeed, too small as small as she remembered. :They would have to face the steps again. She heard a sigh from behind her as Nick noticed the same thing. Like Sam, he was decently athletic from his years of playing cricket, but it would take a madman to look forward to trudging down three thousand steps.
In the other paperwing, Sam was searching for any way to get out of going down those steps. After all, once they had retrieved the fragments of silver, they would have to climb back up. "Mogget, are you certain it's in that part of the river? Is there absolutely none of it elsewhere? Up here, for instance.
"No, and you'd best be glad there's not."
"Why," Sam asked.
"Because it would already be gone by now if there was."
"Gone? Who would have taken it?"
"Who do you think," the cat replied sarcastically. For the first time, Sam noticed a black-cloaked figure a few hundred yards upriver. "No...," he said. "That can't be..." Regardless of his own words, he vaulted over the side of the paperwing and ran to Lirael's. He tapped her shoulder to distract her from the conversation she was holding with Nick, then pointed upstream and voiced a single word. "Katrel."
Lirael was out of the vessel and sprinting up the riverbank before he could blink. Evidently, he wasn't the only one whose eyes were glued to her. As he watched her run, the the shadowy figure raised a hooded head. Before Lirael was more than halfway there, Katrel lept over the edge of the cliff. His cloak billowed up like an Ancelstierrian parachute, but Sam knew it would be far less effective. His gaze was still fixed on the horrific scene when he noticed Nick run by out of the corner of his eye, a mix of dreadful emotions written across his face.
"Well," Mogget drawled, "That certainly got them moving." Sam paused to give the cat a withering look before chasing after his relatives. Mogget waited a few moments before following at a leisurely pace.
Sam caught up to find them peering over the edge of a sheer cliff. Instead of the expected scene of death, he saw a thin ledge ten or so feet below. It was about three feet wide, stuck out less than two from the face of the cliff, and looked like it would crumble if anyone so much as bounced on it.
"Do we follow?" Nick's question was slow and halting. Evidently, he had also noticed the ledge's fragility.
"Yes!" Lirael,on the other hand, looked ready to take her chances with crumbly ledges and pursue her son. She tensed, about to make the jump.
"Wait a moment, Lirael!" Sam called out while rooting through his pack. "I've got something in here that should let us get down there without killing ourselves."
She sighed exasperatedly and tapped a foot while she waited. It was only a few seconds before Sam triumphantly held up what appeared to be a small silver box.
"I'm sure that will make a wonderful landing pad, Sameth, but if you don't mind..." Lirael again prepared herself to make the jump.
"If you would just give me a minute..." He grasped the box by a thin piece of rope sticking out of one end and shook it. As he shook, the rope seemed to grow until the silver box clinked down onto the ledge. Sam followed this up by speaking a few marks nobody recognized. A ledge identical to the one below appeared about a foot in front of them, and Sam stepped onto it before indicating the other three to do the same. Once they were on, he spoke another mark that caused them to descend. It halted just above the silver box, and the group disembarked. Sam released the end of the string he had held up till then, and the box sucked it back inside. As a group, they stepped into the tunnel that had been carved into the side of the cliff. The magical ledge became transparent and seeped into the stone beneath it,leaving only a shimmering sheen of marks behind.
Once even that faded, they turned back to the tunnel. It became very dark farther inside, but there was a pinprick of light in the distance. It had to be a second way out, and where Katrel was headed. Lirael went with her only option and walked farther into the cave, one hand on her sword and the other hovering over Saraneth. She knew the cold, prickly feeling in the air to be her death sense warning her of danger. She could only hope that-No. She had clearly seen Katrel's eyes in the second before he jumped. From that one glimpse, she knew that he was no Dead thing. And yet that confirmed her worst fears. If Katrel was not one of the Dead, he must have summoned a Dead spirit. She wanted to cry at the thought; her son, a necromancer. Lirael held back the tears and pushed forward, her senses on high alert. The group walked in silence, footsteps echoing off the moist walls.
"Arrgh!"
Lirael whipped around,marks for destruction ready on her tongue and a hand fumbling at the bandolier's leather strap.
"Sorry," Nick mumbled. "Whacked my foot on a rock."
She sighed in relief, then immediately tensed again. Whatever the Dead thing was was closer, much closer. She could feel every tiny hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. Slowly, she turned, and -
"Jerrum! Cannal!" A silver spike whizzed past her head, and a shriek cam from just behind her left ear. At last, Saraneth came free of its bindings. Lirael rang it loudly, allowing its bold tones to chase the Morduat beyond the Ninth Gate. "Thank you, Nick. I never would have caught that in time."
"Tricky, that," Sam muttered. "They used a Morduat in the hope that its slight degree of intelligence would allow it to avoid you. Sneaky, and rather wise."
"However wise it was, the fact that it had time to get on that stalactite proves Katrel is almost certainly a fair distance ahead of us. We should get moving again." She continued on, now at a quick jog. The light was still dim, but she could tell they were getting closer. Lirael was still hurrying towards the exit when she crashed into a wall. Once she'd recovered from the rebound, she discovered that the exit she had been running towards was actually a glowing circle of spells traced on what appeared to be a door. She tugged on a bit of rock carved to resemble a handle, but to no avail. She reached toward the spell-circle, certain it was the key to getting inside.
"Lirael, I don't think you should-"
The tips of her fingers brushed it, and the spell pulled her hand to the door. Katrel's voice issued from the circle, loud and clear for all to hear. "Mother," he said, but the word contained no affection. "Abhorsen. Whichever you prefer. As you have no doubt guessed, I am beyond this door. A light pull on the handle would open it, but the very spell you are listening to is also keeping the door shut. Please don't try to break it. I doubt the Wallmaker could, and anyone of lesser power would certainly die trying to do so. One of us will perish the next time we meet, but I would like you to have a more honorable death than you would trying to open this door. Farewell, Mother. Perhaps we will meet again in a month or so."
"No," she whispered. "No!"
A/N Well,this chapter turned out much differently than I expected. One night at the hotel, I was thinking about this story while trying to fall asleep when Katrel pretty much took control of my mind. From the point Mogget pointed him out, I accomplished absolutely nothing I set out to do in this chapter. The next day was devoted almost entirely to figuring out the scenes and writing rather than visiting with family. Oh well, sometimes it's fun to have you mind controlled by a character. :P