d a useful . . . friend!”

    “Very oucone said,  at least t  over servile, Sabriel t.

    “No.

    “ any ideas about this door?”

    “Just one,” replied Mogget, sliding bet marked the door.

    “Push. One on each side.”

    “Push?”

    “?” said toucone, sook up a position, braced against t side of t on tal-studded wood.

    Sabriel ated, t t.

    “One, t.

    Sabriel pusoucone on “pus took several seconds to sync bar, climbing from floor to ceiling, dust motes dancing in its progress.

    “It feels strange,” said toucone, te strings.

    “I can  time,   singing.

    “I can see time,” ly t .

    t t of pine trees clearing trils of underground dust. Mogget sneezed quickly times, and ran about in a tig bely and inexplicably as they’d opened.

    tood in a small clearing in t, or plantation, for trees ood in turf and stunted bus battleground.

    “tcoucone. ook several deep breat t is inter, I think—or early Spring?”

    “inter,” replied Sabriel. “It e  seems much milder here.”

    “Most of t of, teau,” Mogget explained. “teau is bet above tal plain. In fact, towe, wly below sea level and has been reclaimed.”

    “Yes,” said toucone. “I remember. Long Dyke, to raise ter—”

    “You’re botive for a change,”

    remarked Sabriel. “ould one of you care to tell me somet to kno Cers?”

    “I can’t,” Mogget and toucone said together.

    toucone continued, ingly, “t someone o ter, migo speak. A cized er mark, but not