Sabriel ed Belisaere to be a ruined city, devoid of life, but it  so. By time ts toruly impressive  ringed ty stood, ts, of a size ed as ting elling of  be in Belisaere. “Good sun and s er”  typical greeting in toucone’s time.

    ty’s main . A o a vast pool, easily as big as ty or ty playing fields.  most ed. to tted bey imony to long abandonment.

    Only tern dock looked lively. trading vessels of bygone days, but many small coastal craft, loading and unloading. Derricks s; longss. No opped boottle more tly decorated frameing a patcables for tools for tomers. to be no sage of customers in general, Sabriel noted, as toucone steered for a vacant bert as if time ed.

    toucone let t go slack, and broug into t in time for to lose  an oblique angle into t lined t before s to a bollard, a street urc for her.

    “Penny for t,” he crowd.

    “Penny for t, lady?”

    Sabriel smiled, , and flicked a silver penny at t it, grinned and disappeared into tream of people moving along t precisely  furty. Belisaere  upon four lo tell, only t kno least ty’s area, ed hem.

    t of ty, on truly be said to be infested ten y could be. Even in Ancelstierre, sed anytoen t a big city by Ancelstierran standards, and it didn’t e cars t ly adding to Ancelstierran  noise for t ten years, but Belisaere made up for it ing, selling, buying, singing . . .

    “as it like ted at toucone, as to them.

    “Not really,” ansoucone. “t a market. It er, too, and people were in les