xed grave dirt.”

    “So, o t of t ?”

    Silence fell as tioner spoke, for ted to eady rain, as e afternoon. t inconsequentially, as sion. Rain didn’t destroy, but it  and irritated t  of the rain.

    Sood up  t. ty-one pairs of eyes ce  too many lanterns, candles and tapers. toucone c cing outrying to feel the Dead.

    It , concealed emanation, like an untraceable wten.

    Sabriel concentrated on it, follo, and found it, righe villagers.

    Sraig t c tening intently for  tely somet cloak, s.

    “tell me,” Sabriel said. “Did anyone bring a large box  to t would be .”

    Murmurs and enquiries met tion, neigurning to eactle  floalked, Sabriel  titiously loosening oucone to stay close by tle groups of villagers. Mogget, glancing up from retcalked beoucone’s er a  ts wail of .

    Careful not to alarm ook a zigzag patening to tudied attention, t to be grohe second.

    Closer no tecill alive, but a Dead spirit ringpuller, using . Somet , ted to tical spirits in to keep a primary  alive, slipping off at nigo sate ther living prey—like children.

    “I’m sure I sa, Patar,” to  it ashore. hey, Jall!”

    ed t last, turning to look at someone else across t instant, tar exploded into action, clubbing ioner o t ferocity of a battering ram.

    But Sabriel ed t. Sood before  t  sleeper, from the bandolier.

    Sill o save t.

    Patar slid to a  and urned, but toucone ing Cer marks and silver flames. Sabriel eyed t kno time she asked,