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chapter xxviii

作品:Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy) 作者:加斯·尼克斯 字数: 下载本书  举报本章节错误/更新太慢

    Sabriel forced o o to a screaming run. Lots of soldiers could see ill placing lanterns out in lines, radiating out from teps, and several soldiers ing to bounce it out. t her as she passed.

    t slipping off to t it, but sed outside, looking out. After a moment, s anding next to  by terns, half in shadow.

    “t at tes,”

    soo quickly to be calm.

    “I kno firing . Six men and a corporal.”

    Sabriel nodded. S t puncomac to notice, to .

    Suddenly, s somet  a deat tood bolt uprigruly dohe fog!”

    S a second later. ty looked around, startled, ted for teps and teams cocked tripodmounted mache newly made sandbag walls.

    “Second floor, stand ready!” ed, and above s of fifty rifles  of ts step back outside, and take up position beo snatc came to t . . .

    In tant quiet, t. ind in trees out past tarting to rise as ts beginning to c—ts, no longer joined by gristle; t, bones like ic flesh.

    “hands,” she said, nervously. “hundreds of hands.”

    Even as s tes, t second’s crasoly parody of a war cry.

    “Fire!”

    In tant’s delay after t terrible fear t t  out a terrible, barking roar, red tracer rounds flinging out, ricocing from terrible violence. Bullets tore Dead flesered bone, knocked t still till terally torn apart,  broken into pieces, he wire.

    t before it could entirely cease, anotumbling, craeumbling over till t of t t of t steps. Some, still  vestige of elligence, retreated, only to be caug gouts of flame from he second floor.

    “Sabriel—get inside!”  of till more bullets to till.

    “Yes,” replied Sabriel, looking out at t of bodies, terns and lumps of ply cence  even so, truction made han any Free Magic . . .

    S inside, s vast mob of  to Deat— but it oo late. And opped by phey came in small numbers . . .

    and t was as likely as an early dawn . . .

    t treaked  Cer marks, draea from t co figrolled nervousness about t bravado exactly, just a strange mixture of competence and cynicism. ever it  made Sabriel  all.

    “Evening, miss.”

    “Good to ically never h!”

    “on’t need us at te.”

    “Not like ter, is it, ma’am?”

    “Good luck al cigar case, miss.”

    “Good luck to all of you,” replied Sabriel, trying to smile in anso tarted again, and s ttention  nearly as casual as tended, Sabriel t as so t hall.

    ened.

    ting across t ther end.

    ts ea. Magistrix Greenalking to toucone in ty or so girls—young e o t her like a bizarre parody of a school dance.

    Beone ered   be mistaken for extremely  not if you  kne o ter of ted.

    “Cer Mages! Please come here.”

    ty to the sarcophagus.

    Sabriel looked at tudents, t and open, a tement at tant from t too, s, seeing respect and someter marks on tic replicas, t  to be caughis . . .

    Sabriel opened o speak, and t on cue.

    In the girls giggled nervously.

    Sabriel,  many deat once, and a familiar dread touch cold fingers. Kerrigor was closing in.

    It  a lessening of t. Faintly, ss and even . . . screams . . . from outside.

    ting h older weapons now.

    “Quickly,” so make a  ring around trix, if you enant, please put your men in among the girls . . .”

    Anyime, t t.

    t, it ruction. Men moved quickly to took their hands purposefully.

    In a feer Mages.

    Linked by touc need to speak. She ring.

    toucone, to , a familiar and poo , less po not  skill—and so on, righe ring.

    Sloo t of ill it started to project inex of a o stream about treaks rotating clock, er and greater speed.

    Still Sabriel kept ter Magic floo ter, draer Mages could produce. Soldiers and sco t tayed linked, te.

    Sloself began turning on tform, eam jetted forts lid, but t ill so spin faster and faster, till it eam and yolk-yello.

    t suddenly stopped, to le over ter Mages’ o ty paces away.

    ter Magic  too, as if earts success, and ticipants still on t.

    avering, ill tigoucone and trix, Sabriel tottered over to the sarcophagus and looked in.

    “artled  glance back up at toucone, “ like you!”

    Before toucone could anseel classide in ting gres still standing dreo t before terrified soldiers, hemselves down, and sobbed, or laughed, or shook in silence.

    Beill rol. Instead of running on, t the bar in place.

    “ed back toerror. t about who “he”

    was.

    “Quick, tes!” Sabriel snapped. S over t look too closely at toucone.

    Sired, and till Free Magic  protections around t t mark soon lingered in toucone ransferred o o  up and linked  a stirring of relief. to make it— Kerrigor’s royed, and ter part of  . . .

    t, red dust blowing in like a solid wave, knocking everyone down in blinding, choking ruin.

    Sabriel lay on tried to get up. t and grit in erns . Blind, s around  tillscalding bronze of the sarcophagus.

    “t be paid,” said a crackling, in tones of Kerrigor . . . but terrible speec in he Paperwing burned.

    Blinking furiously, Sabriel cra didn’t speak again immediately, but s  closing in, t its passage.

    “I must deliver my last burden,” ture said. “turn to retribution.”

    Sabriel blinked again, tears streaming doears and t rays of moonligreaming ttered ure blurred  of pulverized bricks.

    All Sabriel’s senses were screaming inside her.

    Free Magic, the Dead, danger all around . . .

    ture t  blazed a little more t ter t  equally missing toing, whirling energies.

    A soldier suddenly leapt up be, driving a so its back. It iced, but t into we flames.

    iten lump of metal, scorche floor.

    “I bring you Abure said, dropping a long, dimly seen object to one  side. “And tarael.”

    t, it laid carefully doing momentarily before it o t.

    “Come forime t we begun.”

    tcing, and it started to move around the sarcophagus.

    Sabriel loosened ts racing. Kerrigor  till migime to turn ture back into Mogget, and complete tes . . .

    “Stop!”

    tilian tongue, but t. Sabriel stood still, against ried looking past it, lidding  t, trying to puzzle out  t so see.

    It  a sea of darkness.  tures in t ink-splase fire, and a ya h flickering coals of a red as dark as drying blood.

    “Ab like lava mixed tle.

    “You will leave o me.”

    t-te sparks falling like tiny stars in its wake.

    “I ed too long to alloo be taken by anot c still . t fle Kerrigor, a sric comet ling into to ance like a enderizing meat.

    For a moment, no one moved, stack. tendrils of bitter nig attacker, c y of an octopus strangling a brigurtle.

    Desperately, Sabriel looked around for toucone and Magistrix Green ill falling slo air, like some deadly rust-colored gas, tims of its c truck by bricks, or ers from the pews.

    Sabriel sarix first, lying a little ailetto-like splinter from a stered pe through her.

    Soucone  a pile of broken masonry. ed t.

    Sabriel o epping betc, hopeless wounded.

    “My leg is broken,” toucone said, . ilted oh. Live a normal life . . .”

    “I can’t,” replied Sabriel softly. “I am th your broken leg?”

    “Sabriel . . .”

    But Sabriel urned aiced  still. But t, its voice silent. It  ring true until cleaned, ience, magic and steady nerves. Sabriel stared at it for a second, tly placed it back dohe floor.

    up, and cer marks floime, t run tion, but said: “t no Dead s th.”

    “t took up tion, and looked doo t was Kerrigor.