groo power.”

    “You’re cleverer t,” commented Mogget. “Not t t’s saying much.”

    “A child,” said Sabriel. “hy would a child know?”

    “If you’d ion, you’d knooo,” said Mogget. “A e of good silver, t school of yours.”

    “Per no I kno being at scierre saved my life. But enoug. hich way do we go now?”

    toucone looked at t visible above trees, per of its noon-time zenitoucone looked from it to trees, ted: “East. ter Stones, leading from o tern edge of tcones.”

    tones ill ter t, some sort of animal track t meandered from one stone to t. It  pleasant, tant presence of ter  Stones a reassuring sensation to Sabriel and toucone, wrees.

    tones in all, and none of t a stab of nervous tension every time t to anotark picture alone of Cloven Crest.

    t stone stood on t, atop a granite bluff ty or forty yards ’s eastern edge and the end of high ground.

    tood next to tone and looked out, out toe-crested, restless, alo shore.

    Belo, sunken fields of Nestoained by a netself lay ters of a mile a of sigher side.

    “toucone, in a puzzled tone, as if  believe w he was seeing.

    Sabriel folloually silt and er, sitting tepidly where food once grew.

    indmills, poood silent, trefoil-sill atop scaffolding to-laden breeze blehe sea.

    “But ter-spelled,”

    toucone exclaimed. “to folloo  care . . .”

    “t added, elescope in Sabriel’s pack.

    “Nestoone must be broken,”

    Sabriel said, moutigain stenche village.”