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athering around horyse； who was speaking on the newly connected phone。 “hurry up and wait。”
“i’d have liked to see you in the royal guard；”
sabriel said。 “and the old kingdom； in 。 。 。 i mean before the stones were broken。”
“in my day； you mean；” said touchstone。 “i would have liked that too。 it was more like here； then。 here normally； i mean。 peaceful； and sort of slow。 sometimes i thought life was too slow； too predictable。 i’d prefer that now 。 。 。”
“i used to think like that at school；” sabriel answered。 “dreaming about the old kingdom。
proper charter magic。 dead to bind。 princes to be—”
“rescued？”
“married；” replied sabriel； absently。 she seemed intent on watching horyse。 he looked like he was getting bad news over the telephone。
touchstone didn’t speak。 everything seemed to sharpen in focus for him； centering on sabriel； her black hair gleaming like a raven’s wing in the afternoon sun。 i love her； he thought。 but if i say the wrong thing now； i may never 。 。 。
horyse handed the telephone back to a signaler； and turned towards them。 touchstone watched him； suddenly conscious that he probably only had five seconds to be alone with sabriel； to say something； to say anything。
perhaps the last five seconds they would ever have alone together 。 。 。
i am not afraid； he said to himself。
“i love you；” he whispered。 “i hope you don’t mind。”
sabriel looked back at him； and smiled； almost despite herself。 her sadness at her father’s death was still there； and her fears for the future—but seeing touchstone staring apprehensively at her somehow gave her hope。
“i don’t mind；” she whispered back； leaning towards him。 she frowned； “i think 。 。 。 i think i might love you too； charter help me； but now is—”
“the telephone line to the perimeter crossing point just went out；” horyse announced grimly； shouting above the village bell even before he was close enough to talk。 “a fog started rolling across the wall over an hour ago。 it reached the forward trenches at four forty…six。 after that； none of the advance panies could be reached by phone or runner。 i was just speaking to the duty officer then—that young chap who was so interested in your aircraft。 he said the fog was just about to reach his position。 then the line went silent。”
“so；” said sabriel。 “kerrigor didn’t wait till sundown。 he’s working the weather。”
“from the timings given by the perimeter；”
horyse said； “this fog—and whatever’s in it— is moving southwards at around twenty miles an hour。 as the crow flies； it’ll reach us around half past seven。 dark； with the moonrise yet to e。”
“let’s go then；” snapped sabriel。 “the bridlepath to docky point starts from behind the pub。
shall i lead？”
“best not；” replied horyse。 he turned； and shouted some orders； acpanied by considerable waving and pointing。 within a few seconds； men were moving off around the pub； taking the path to docky point。 first； the crossing point scouts； archers and charter mages all。 then； the first platoon of infantry； bayonets fixed； rifles at the ready。 past the pub； they shook out into an arrowhead formation。 horyse； sabriel； touchstone and their driver followed。 behind them came the other two platoons； and the signalers； unreeling field telephone wire from a large and cumbersome drum。
it was quiet among the cork trees； the soldiers moving as silently as they could； municating by hand signals rather than shouts； only their heavy tread and the occasional rattle of armor or equipment disturbing the quiet。
sunshine poured down between the trees； rich and golden； but already losing its warmth； like a butter…colored wine that was all taste and no potency。
towards the top of the hill； only the crossing point scouts went on up。 the lead platoon of infantry followed a lower contour around to the northern side； the other two platoons moved to the south…west and south…east； forming a defensive triangle around the hill。 horyse； sabriel； touchstone and the driver continued on。
the trees fell away about twenty yards from the top of the hill； thick weeds and thistles taking their place。 then； at the highest point； there was the cairn： a solid； hut…sized square of grey…green stones。 the twelve scouts were grouped loosely around it； four of them already levering one of the corner stones out with a long crowbar； obviously carried up for this purpose。
as sabriel and touchstone came up； the stone fell with a thud； revealing more blocks underneath。
at the same time； every charter mage present felt a slight buzzing in their ears； and a wave of dizziness。
“did you feel that？” asked horyse； unnecessarily； as it was clear from everyone’s expressions and the hands that had gone to ears that they all had。
“yes；” replied sabriel。 to a lesser extent； it was the same sort of feeling the broken stones caused in the reservoir。 “it will get worse； i’m afraid； as we get closer to the sarcophagus。”
“how far in is it？”
“four blocks deep； i think；” said sabriel。 “or five。 i 。 。 。 saw it 。 。 。 from an odd perspective。”
horyse nodded； and indicated to the men to keep prying away the stones。 they went to it with a will； but sabriel noticed they kept looking at the position of the sun。 all the scouts were charter mages； of various power—all knew what sundown would bring。
in fifteen minutes； they’d made a hole two blocks wide and two deep in one end； and the sickness was growing worse。 two of the younger scouts； men in their early twenties； had bee violently sick and were recuperating further down the hill。 the others were working more slowly； their energies directed to keeping lunches down and quelling shaking limbs。
surprisingly； given their lack of sleep and generally run…down state； sabriel and touchstone found it relatively easy to resist the waves of nausea emanating from the cairn。 it didn’t pare with the cold； dark fear of the reservoir； there on the hill； with the sunshine and the fresh breeze； warming and cooling at the same time。
when the third blocks came out； horyse called a brief rest break； and they all retreated down the hill to the tree line； where the cairn’s sickening aura dissipated。 the signalers had a telephone there； the handset sitting on the upturned drum。 horyse took it； but turned to sabriel before the signaler wound the charging handle。
“are there any preparations to be made before we remove the last blocks？ magical ones； i mean。”
sabriel thought for a moment； willing her tiredness away； then shook her head。 “i don’t think so。 once we have access to the sarcophagus； we may have to spell it open—i’ll need everyone’s help for that。 then； the final rites on the body—the usual cremation spell。 there will be resistance then； too。 have your men often cast charter magic in concert？”
“unfortunately； no；” replied horyse； frowning。
“because the army doesn’t officially admit the existence of charter magic； everyone here is basically self…taught。”
“never mind；” sabriel said； trying to sound confident； aware that everyone around her was listening。 “we’ll manage。”
“good；” replied horyse； smiling。 that made him look very confident； thought sabriel。 she tried to smile too； but was uncertain about the result。 it felt too much like a grimace of pain。
“well； let’s see where our uninvited guest has got to；” horyse continued； still smiling。 “where does this phone connect to； sergeant？”
“bain police；” replied the signals sergeant； winding the charging handle vigorously。 “and army hq north； sir。 you’ll have to ask corporal synge to switch you。 he’s on the board at the village。”
“good；” replied horyse。 “hello。 oh； synge？ put me through to bain。 no； tell north you can’t get through to me。 yes； that’s right； corporal。
thank you 。 。 。 ah 。 。 。 bainshire constabulary？ it’s colonel horyse。 i want to speak to chief superintendent dingley 。 。 。 yes。 hello； superintendent。 have you had any reports of a strange； dense fog 。 。 。 what！ already！ no； on no account investigate。 get everyone in。 shutter the windows 。 。 。 yes； the usual drill。 yes； whatever is in 。 。 。 yes； extraordinarily dangerous 。 。 。
hello！ hello！