Sam cursed. The horizon south of the Wall was stained blood-red. If Nick was still alive, he wouldn't last much longer. He whistled the wind to a stronger gale, as he'd been doing the whole trip. It was so fast now that it nearly tore the individual sheets of paper from the sides of the paperwing. But still he pushed it faster, forcing the craft to its very limits. Only one thing kept it together now, and Sam feared that would fail once they crossed the Wall. He didn't allow his thoughts to go any farther. He couldn't think of what would happen if his mission were to fail.

They crossed the Wall, still flying on the ferocious winds. One of the painted eyes tilted back to look scathingly at him. Sam grit his teeth, but did not lessen the gale's force. The eyes really were startling when they were staring straight at you. It was only another mile to the loch, but every second seemed an eternity with that gaze weighing on him. Just as he thought the paperwing would roll and dump him out, Nick came into view. It was the first time he realized just how high up they were. He'd require a mighty wind going almost straight down to land where they had planned. And, much to his dismay, that was exactly what Sam created. The slightest change of a single mark sent the paperwings hurtling toward the ground in a deadly spiral. Seconds before impact, he cast another spell to totally deaden the wind, and a third to create a net below them in case they didn't pull out of the spiral fast enough.

†††

Sam must have gone mad. That was the only explanation for it. They'd already released a tremendously powerful being, and now Sam was going to kill them in a plane crash before they could destroy it. Worse yet, it looked like he was going to crash into Nick! Then, as suddenly as they'd started falling, they stopped. The paperwings came to a complete stop in mid-air, making Lirael's stomach do flip-flops, before righting themselves and gently gliding towards the ground. But the force proved too great on the ropes tying the bell between the paperwings, and they snapped, the precious cargo plummeting to bury itself in the soil.

Lirael jumped from the cockpit before even the nose of the plane touched the earth. Sam was not far behind, and Nick was already beside the bell, trying to knock it out of the dirt.

"Ready then? One,two, three- heave!"

They shoved, and the bell rocked backwards before lightning struck it. All three fell to the ground, stunned.

"Three? A mere group of three thinks to destroy me? Hah! You will be the first to die!" The fine red mist pulled itself into a fairly man-like shape, both too long and too tall. A tentacle-shaped arm struck out at them, toppling all three to the ground again. The bell was hit as well, and finally came out of the dirt, leaving its protective coverings behind. Sam threw a foot under the clapper so it couldn't sound. The metal came down hard on his ankle. He winced, unsure whether it was broken.

Beside him, Nick rolled to avoid another deadly appendage. His new position put him within reach of the behemoth handle,and he knew what he had to do. Nick grabbed it, gathered his strength, and swung.

"No! Not yet!" Lirael lunged to the side, shoving part of her bandolier into Sam's hand and stretching for Nick's as well. She began a spell at the same time, the words flying from her mouth so fast she nearly stumbled over them. Sam joined in, racing towards the finish. Both were shouting marks as the last tones of the bell faded. When all sound was gone, they ceased, and gave each other a knowing look.

"Damn!"

The final sign of their failure came as the ground fell away beneath their feet. Lirael wasn't sure whether she was falling or flying. It didn't really feel like either. It was more like floating. Yes, floating, that was it. Floating in an endless sea of black.

"Sam?" she whispered. No answer came. "Sam!"

"Lirael?" She could hear his voice somewhere to her left, but could't see him. This black was like fog, only not cold or clammy. 'Perhaps...' Lirael gave an experimental stroke, and soared forward. At least something worked somewhat as it should here. "Sam?" she called again, feeling rather like she was in a ridiculous game of marco-polo.

"Here!" His voice emanated from directly behind her. Then again, perhaps even swimming didn't work the same in the strange void. Nonetheless, she swiveled and let her hands quest through the foggy air. At last, she found a hand to match her own. She pulled him closer, till she could just see him. "Ready?"

"Yes," he replied, but hesitated. "I think." He didn't want to voice what they both knew was true.

"Don't drop it," she instructed needlessly, handing him a bell. She couldn't see which it was, but something about it spoke of Belgaer. She gave him another, which he placed gingerly between his toes. Ranna followed, tinkling softly as she handed it over.

That left four for her. She drew each with the skill of a trained Abhorsen, and hoped she could ring them as well.

"On three?" Sam asked, shocking her nearly enough to make her drop the bells.

"Yes," she replied automatically, and drew a long breath. "One, two," Lirael paused for another breath. "Three."

And for the first time in all of history, the seven necromancer's bells chimed in harmony. And, though none of the bells had been so haphazardly rang before, not one of them sounded a discordant note. In moments, thick black fog faded to thin gray mist, and with the mist came a new dawn. A new dawn that, Lirael thankfully noticed as she fell to the ground, shone down on the same old world it always had. She'd never loved the sight so much. A gasp of pleasure at their success turned to one of pain when something clenched low in her belly. She hit the ground hard, struggling to catch her breath.

"Mother?" The voice was innocent and young, and almost identical to Katrel's before he had been hooked into Orannis's service. She squinted at him, still doubled over, and was shocked to see that it really was her long lost son.

"Are...are you hurt, mom? I could cast something... It won't be strong, but..."

"No," she said with as much motherly strength as she could muster. "Go sit with your father for a minute."

"Dad's dead," he told he, voice laced with the sweetness of childhood despite the grim news.

"Nick's..." Another contraction slammed into her gut. "Your uncle, then. Go find him." She winced again. "And... tell him to come here. Tell him your brother's coming."

Sam came running a few moments later. "Sorry, Sam," she gasped, "but I need you..." she curled into a little ball as the next wave hit, "to be a midwife."

He said nothing, but bent to his latest work. Within the hour, Lirael was resting with not just one, but two new sons, as well as her first.

And so it was that when Lirael finally passed into the river after many more years of battling the dead, there were still three; one to watch the past, another to guard the present, and a third to See the future.

A/N And that's it! Thanks to all who stuck with me through tis crazy tale and all its ups and downs. Thanks especially to the reviewers, I can't tell you guys how much it really does mean. And now... Now I'm gone. It's New Year's Eve, after all, and I've got some friends to party with!