the whole path just to get a drink of good water?”
“Water, yes, but not to drink,” said the Dog. “I am glad the path is still there. Let us go to it.”
With that, the hound sprang forward, jumping over the sprawl of boulders that helped conceal the cleft and the caves beyond.
Lirael and Sam followed more sedately, clambering between the stones. Both were still sore, and they had many things to think about. Lirael in particular was thinking of the Dog’s words: “When ancient forces stir, many things are woken.” She knew that whatever Nicholas was digging up was both powerful and evil, and it was clear that its emergence had set many things in motion, including a rising of the Dead across the whole Kingdom. But she had not considered that other powers might also be woken, and how that might affect their plans.
Not that they really had a plan, Lirael thought. They were simply rushing headlong to try to stop Hedge and save Nicholas and keep whatever it was safely buried in the ground.
“We should have a proper plan,” she whispered to herself. But no brilliant thoughts or strategies came to mind, and she had to concentrate on climbing between and over stones as she followed the Disreputable Dog along the base of the Long Cliffs, with Sam close behind.
Chapter Four
Breakfast of Ravens
THE SUN HAD almost set by the time Lirael, Sam, and the Dog arrived at the foot of the Steps, and the shadow of the Long Cliffs stretched far across the Ratterlin plain. Lirael easily found the spring—a clear, bubbling pool ten yards wide—but it took longer to find the beginning of the steps, as the path was narrow, cut deeply into the face of the cliff, and disguised by many overhangs and jutting buttresses of jagged stone.
“Can we climb it by night?” asked Lirael uncertainly, looking up at the shadowed cliff above them and the last faint touch of sun a thousand feet above. The cliff stretched up even farther than that, and she couldn’t see the top. Lirael had climbed many stairs and narrow ways in the Clayr’s Glacier, but she had little experience of traveling in the open under sun and moon.
“We shouldn’t risk a light,” replied the Dog, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Her tail still hung limply, without its usual wag or spring. “I could lead you, though it will be dangerous in the dark if any steps have fallen away.”
“The moon will be bright,” said Sam. “It was in its third quarter last night, and the sky is reasonably clear. But it will not rise till the early morning. An hour after midnight at least. We should wait till then, if not overnight.”
“I don’t want to wait,” Lirael muttered. “I have this feeling . . . an anxiety I can’t describe. The vision the Clayr told me about, me with Nicholas, on the Red Lake . . . I feel it slipping away, as if I’ll somehow miss the moment. That it will become the past rather than a possible future.”
“Falling off the Long Cliffs in the dark won’t get us there any faster,” said Sam. “And I could do with a bite to eat and a few hours’ rest before we get climbing.”
Lirael nodded. She was tired too. Her calves ached, and her shoulders were sore from the weight of the pack. But there was another weariness too, one that she was sure Sam shared. It was a weariness of the spirit. It came from the shock of losing Mogget, and she really just wanted to lie down by the cool spring and go to sleep in the vain hope that the new day would be brighter. It was a feeling she recognized from her younger days. Then it had been the vain hope that she would sleep and in the morning awake with the Sight. Now she knew that the new day could bring nothing good. They needed to rest, but not for too long. Hedge and Nicholas would not rest, nor would Chlorr and her Dead Hands.
“We’ll wait for the moon to rise,” she said, slipping the pack off her shoulders and sitting down next to it on a convenient boulder.
The next instant she was
“Water, yes, but not to drink,” said the Dog. “I am glad the path is still there. Let us go to it.”
With that, the hound sprang forward, jumping over the sprawl of boulders that helped conceal the cleft and the caves beyond.
Lirael and Sam followed more sedately, clambering between the stones. Both were still sore, and they had many things to think about. Lirael in particular was thinking of the Dog’s words: “When ancient forces stir, many things are woken.” She knew that whatever Nicholas was digging up was both powerful and evil, and it was clear that its emergence had set many things in motion, including a rising of the Dead across the whole Kingdom. But she had not considered that other powers might also be woken, and how that might affect their plans.
Not that they really had a plan, Lirael thought. They were simply rushing headlong to try to stop Hedge and save Nicholas and keep whatever it was safely buried in the ground.
“We should have a proper plan,” she whispered to herself. But no brilliant thoughts or strategies came to mind, and she had to concentrate on climbing between and over stones as she followed the Disreputable Dog along the base of the Long Cliffs, with Sam close behind.
Chapter Four
Breakfast of Ravens
THE SUN HAD almost set by the time Lirael, Sam, and the Dog arrived at the foot of the Steps, and the shadow of the Long Cliffs stretched far across the Ratterlin plain. Lirael easily found the spring—a clear, bubbling pool ten yards wide—but it took longer to find the beginning of the steps, as the path was narrow, cut deeply into the face of the cliff, and disguised by many overhangs and jutting buttresses of jagged stone.
“Can we climb it by night?” asked Lirael uncertainly, looking up at the shadowed cliff above them and the last faint touch of sun a thousand feet above. The cliff stretched up even farther than that, and she couldn’t see the top. Lirael had climbed many stairs and narrow ways in the Clayr’s Glacier, but she had little experience of traveling in the open under sun and moon.
“We shouldn’t risk a light,” replied the Dog, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Her tail still hung limply, without its usual wag or spring. “I could lead you, though it will be dangerous in the dark if any steps have fallen away.”
“The moon will be bright,” said Sam. “It was in its third quarter last night, and the sky is reasonably clear. But it will not rise till the early morning. An hour after midnight at least. We should wait till then, if not overnight.”
“I don’t want to wait,” Lirael muttered. “I have this feeling . . . an anxiety I can’t describe. The vision the Clayr told me about, me with Nicholas, on the Red Lake . . . I feel it slipping away, as if I’ll somehow miss the moment. That it will become the past rather than a possible future.”
“Falling off the Long Cliffs in the dark won’t get us there any faster,” said Sam. “And I could do with a bite to eat and a few hours’ rest before we get climbing.”
Lirael nodded. She was tired too. Her calves ached, and her shoulders were sore from the weight of the pack. But there was another weariness too, one that she was sure Sam shared. It was a weariness of the spirit. It came from the shock of losing Mogget, and she really just wanted to lie down by the cool spring and go to sleep in the vain hope that the new day would be brighter. It was a feeling she recognized from her younger days. Then it had been the vain hope that she would sleep and in the morning awake with the Sight. Now she knew that the new day could bring nothing good. They needed to rest, but not for too long. Hedge and Nicholas would not rest, nor would Chlorr and her Dead Hands.
“We’ll wait for the moon to rise,” she said, slipping the pack off her shoulders and sitting down next to it on a convenient boulder.
The next instant she was
Similar Books
