Kerrigor seemed to . cloud of darkness e again, e fire, no dazzling brilliance fighin.
ill, and Sabriel ’s brief ion came.
Kerrigor ing, like a glutton after an overly ambitious meal.
Sabriel s t, bile tainting t o be better. Botoucone aken alive, and kept t ill t ts yahe reservoir . . .
S image.
to be someto be he Old Kingdom . . .
perer Magic. Sed t a single bell could s? It falling ttered ed, last attract ttention. the hall . . .
Even in darkness, till. Sabriel craps t none entered the hall.
till men to fig upon.
on in ter’s business.
traps came undone. Kerrigor didn’t move, .
In one quick motion, Sabriel she bells.
Kerrigor did move tly, aller too, stretcill reaced ceiling. o full, raging, flaming fury, and he spoke.
“toys, Aboo late. Mucoo late.”
It just froze Sabriel’s nerves, caug ely, sruggled to ring t s were locked in place . . .
tantalizingly sloill oue of roug, enctoirs.
Someone—a girl quietly coug breatouc caress. A small spark of golden Cer Magic came from t dying touco Sabriel’s veins, traveling ups, freeing muscles. At last it reacs and .
It true sound it sook t—but it .
Kerrigor slid back, and le more twice Sabriel’s .
But subject to Sabriel’s will.
Saranet bound h had only forced him back.
Sabriel rang trating on t counterpoint beto tion, he would walk where she willed . . .
And for a second, into Deat into he bells faded, Kerrigor changed.
Fiery eyes and mouto eacen o a narroo t ers for a moment, traigo th.
it scream, Saranetars, craso turned to dust, drifting through Sabriel’s fingers like smoke.
Sabriel stared at y ill feeling t of bell-handles . . .
t any conscious t, t in before so it, Rogir stood up and looked at eyes of Kerrigor.
“An inconvenience,” .”
Sabriel lunged at e sparks as it struck, punc to project out t Kerrigor only laugill teel. Sabriel tugged at t it come free.
“No s no ruled before ter, po made t no, my he breaking!”
, and pulled to , till t ried to let go, but oo quick, one ccibly, Kerrigor drew owards him.
“ill you sleep, unknoill t Stones are ready for your blood?” ep of the way?”
Sabriel stared back, meeting time. Surely, test spark of blazing , and felt t expanding? “ his magically preserved flesh.
“Your lover craoic sig I s kiss . . .”
t sill feel tal expanding . . .
Kerrigor’s blistered lips moved to surned t second, and felt, dry, corpse-like flesh slide across her cheek.
“A sisterly kiss,” cly before—but it is not enough . . .”
Again, just a force grip back to face , as if in passionate expectation.
But arm was free.
Kerrigor’s forhe ring was around his neck.
Sabriel felt t back, trying to Kerrigor didn’t let go of not anxious. up to touc tips.
“ is this? Some relic of . . .”
tricted, cutting t too ing as it tried to escape. two flaming eyes looked down in disbelief.
“Impossible,” croaked Kerrigor. Snarling, o the floor.
In tion , th a sound like a rasp on hardwood.
Sly as a snake, arm and s out, striking to the wooden floor beyond.
Pain exploded, and Sabriel screamed, body convulsing around the blade in one awful reflexive curve.
Kerrigor left ion, and advanced upon toucone.
Sabriel, ter from one of the pews.
“Rogir,” toucone said. “Rogir . . .”
ter came dorangled so a world of her own, a world of pain.
S t of omac nooucone dead—s lay bleed.
t felt toucone die.
Ser . Kerrigor er—but to fell, like an apple corer punc out of tting corpse.
Kerrigor struggled and s to side, seeking to cast off t more fleso fall aill no fles a raging column of darkness, constrained by a silver ring.
tself like a demoliso become a mound of rippling s t t o matcal.
ter marks on t Sabriel couldn’t read t focus, and it oo dark. t seemed to ill, s must be done. Saranet to t t t Sabriel, careless— but I must complete t, and almost dre—but no, t .
Ranna ed it against for a moment, gatrengtransfixed he bell.
Ranna sounded s, and felt comforting, like a long-expected bed. t, to tled ceased truggles, and lay themselves down.
to Deat fell into a healing sleep.
t into tinct orial ring of silver. One e.
Gradually, ted into tinct forms— ts, joined at t like Siamese twins.
t in ted. t texture till ting a miniature bell, a miniature Ranna.
ts sat side by side. One black, one s moving, and eac up a silver ring. ts yao to sleep.
toucone c, silver flas. t Sabriel’s side, but s pick till clutc it , resting beloing the moonshadow of a cross upon her face.
Sometoucone’s mind. A voice, a messenger’s voice, speaking to her.
“idings. the Abhorsen is dead.”
Epilogue Deat, and wondered will sill lying down.
In ter, being carried along by t.
For a moment, sarted to struggle, then she relaxed.
“Everyone and everytime to die . . .”
ss cares seemed far aoucone lived, and t made hing.
Kerrigor ed, imprisoned if not made truly dead. e, and rest forever . . .
Somet of ter and set .
“t your time,” said a voice, a voice echers.
Sabriel blinked, for ter. More t. Not Dead spirits, but somet. t instantly recognizable, for all he silver keys. Every one was an Abhorsen.
“Go back,” they chorused. “Go back.”
“I can’t,” sobbed Sabriel. “I’m dead! I trength . . .”
“You are t Ab pass til trengthin you. Live, Abhorsen, live . . .”
Suddenly, srengto crao Life, dropping back at t. One of tly toucant before s th behind.
A face so vieoucone’s, staring do ant, raucous bells t seemed out of place, till so magic, Free or Cer. But ty miles from the all . . .
“Live, Sabriel, live,” toucone tering, ears noticed hers opening.
Sabriel smiled, to side, ake toucone to realize.
tric ligs of terns out again. ted, tending to t and grave mold.
t side on teps; Magistrix Green he soldiers . . .
o closer regions, to ts, t to he floor.
“Sabriel!”
toucone iced. Sabriel turned o ed iously.
a . typically, toucone hing for his own leg.
“Sabriel,” he said again. “You’re alive!”
“Yes,” said Sabriel, h some surprise. “I am.”
e: ting a Book Gartes on to tBound e-book edition of Sabriel t ing a book, from many oters and different to to !,” tion to ing.
to me, tages to ing a book, t times, or even take over for far longer tages are: ting, and revising. tage, t runs concurrently aying motivated.
t of my books seem to stem from a single image or t t lodges in my brain and sloo somet needs to be expressed.
t t may be a “ and sno. Many ots, conscious or ot, upon, and over t single image, boting of the book.
typically I seem to t a book for a year or so before I actually start ing. In tage, I often e a fes in my “ideas”
notebook. At tage, I merely put do points or mnemonics t er on, particularly if tation period for a book is several years. titles are also o jot do title can be very useful as the book can grow.
Planning For all my longer e cer outlines so I can ing from ter on. Actually, ing a cer outline is a great discipline for t tory and it also provides a road map or central skeleton you can come back to if you get lost. I often e tial cer first to get tus for tory going and te tline.
Usually, I o e a revised cer outline times in ting t once again it does focus tory is going and to go.
riting S stories, articles, and items on my e I type straigo ter (mostly a Macintos ord. e t.
Noerman fountain pen (for S-tips earlier. I erested to see t Stepe one of novels erman fountain pen. edly found t tual style of the book.
tages of ing long least for me. First of all, I e in relatively small ebooks able t of computer, particularly since you can take t o consider poteries, or printouts. Parts of Sabriel, for example, ten on a trip t. Parts of Sten at the beach.
tage of ing long ebook, I ree as I type, so t printout is actually a second draft. Sometimes I c quite a lot, sometimes not so muc it gives me a distinctive and separate stage where I can revise.
t page of t cer of Sabriel (as opposed to te earlier, before I did my cer outline) ually - ten in a spiral-bound notebook, and pasted into my preferred black and red notebook ( /” x /” or mm x mm “sewn memo book”).
At typing stage, I cleaned up ting a bit and it er, but in t least, it stayed muc page and compare it to te.
o revising.
Revising As I said, ten my first major stage of revision.
o go t least tages after t. t of t print out typed cer. I go t and make ce later. tage (and sometimes a time as is finis time. I leave t big, beautiful pile of printout on t doions as I go.
Finally, I bundle to my Australian and U.S. publis for tion(s), for reing. Sometimes times t, and I argue about to alter text. Basically, I try and keep an open mind, since t.
Staying Motivated I’m often asked by aspiring ers a year or more in ing a full-length novel.
My stock ans I never sit doo e a novel today.” I sit doo e a cer,” or “revise a cer,”
or “finiser.” t ’s only ever ,-, are te goal.
As a furtivational gimmick, I al utility e t dootal of e in t of my first notebook for t hose red and black numbers).
I also e doening to as I e and anyt migeresting to look back upon. Like t t I uploaded my first is a relatively small t it , particularly as more and more cers appear and total gro very encouraging, particularly in t to take ty of time.
Summary sum up my ing p remember e, revise” one is from Robert e if you don’t read.”
“Just e one cer at a time and one day you’ll be surprised by your own finished novel.”
“riting anytter t ing somet.”
“Read, e, revise, submit, repeat.”
“Expect rejection, but don’t let it stop you submitting again.”
“Submit t t draft. Al again before you send it.”
About tralia. After taking ing from ty of Canberra, o try, steadily devolving from sales rep t, until in or inational publiser a period traveling in Eastern Europe, t, and Asia in , publiso ing communications consultant. In , o to become a part-time literary agent. e walk from Coogee Beacs of books.
Garther books, Sabriel, Lirael, and Shade’s Chldren.