Mogget, t column of ting fire. “You oo,  you, Mogget? Unbound, in your other form.”

    “Yes, I . “it time. A very poer of t a little too good-ed to deal reacerrible trouble getting o Belisaere, and in t timely enougo save ters.”

    “ oucone.

    “ happened?”

    “Rogir o Belisaere,” Mogget said o a creen cronies. “But only an Ab, and  there.

    Rogir’s real body  for his physical form.

    “Someake life all time to stay out of Deat ter made it very difficult for o do t anyer.

    o breaking a feones, some o prey on, and t him down.

    So o break t Stones, and for t  t .

    “Because  ac Stones ers tle too late. true, o drive o Deat since rue body inued to exist. Even from Deation of t a royal family,  Cers crippled, corrupting and  really beaten t nig delayed, and for to come back, trying to re-enter Life—”

    “ errupted Sabriel. “ing for generations,  trying to keep in Deater Dead , ter of t.”

    “I do not kno. “Your fat so.”

    “It is oucone said, distantly.

    “Kerrigor .

    his full ceremonial name was Rogirek.”

    “s—must o Belisaere just before  aloud. “I o Life so near the all?”

    “ be near to be close to it,” Mogget said. “You s. to reneer spell t prevents e.”

    “Yes,” replied Sabriel, remembering t suppressed it, before it became a racking sob. Inside, s like screaming, crying. Sed to flee back to Ancelstierre, cross t sed  first,  find my father’s body.”

    t, save for t he rigging.

    toucone