sabriel (the abhorsen trilogy)_加斯·尼克斯-第38章
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ged in his back; under the boat cloak。 mordaut; they were called; sabriel remembered。 a whole page was devoted to these parasitical spirits in the book of the dead。 they liked to keep a primary host alive; slipping off at night to sate their hunger from other living prey鈥攍ike children。
鈥渋鈥檓 sure i saw you with a box like that; patar;鈥潯he suspicious fisherman was saying。 鈥渏all stowart helped you get it ashore。 hey; jall!鈥
he shouted that last; turning to look at someone else across the room。 in that instant; the dead…ridden patar exploded into action; clubbing his questioner with both forearms; knocking him aside; running to the door with the silent ferocity of a battering ram。
but sabriel had expected that。 she stood before him; sword at the ready; her left hand drawing ranna; the sweet sleeper; from the bandolier。
she still hoped to save the man; by quelling the mordaut。
patar slid to a halt and half…turned; but touchstone was there behind him; twin swords glowing eerily with shifting charter marks and silver flames。 sabriel eyed the blades in surprise; she hadn鈥檛 known they were spelled。 past time she asked; she realized。
then ranna was free in her hand鈥攂ut the mordaut didn鈥檛 wait for the unavoidable lullaby。
patar suddenly screamed; and stood rigid; the redness draining from his face; to be replaced by grey。 then his flesh crumpled and fell apart; even his bones flaking away to soggy ash as the mordaut sucked all the life out of him in one voracious instant。 newly fed and strengthened; the dead slid out from the falling cloak; a pool of squelching darkness。 it took shape as it moved; being a large; disgustingly elongated sort of rat。 quicker than any natural rat; it scuttled towards a hole in the wall and escape! sabriel lunged; her blade striking chips from the floor planks; missing the shadowy form by a scant instant。
touchstone didn鈥檛 miss。 his right…hand sword sheared through the creature just behind the head; the left…wielded blade impaling its sinuous midsection。
pinned to the floor; the creature writhed and arched; its shadow…stuff working away from the blades。 it was remaking its body; escaping the trap。
quickly; sabriel stood over it; ranna sounding in her hand; sweet; lazy tone echoing out into the shed。
before the echoes died; the mordaut ceased to writhe。 form half…lost by its shifting from the swords; it lay like a lump of charred liver; quivering on the floor; still impaled。
sabriel replaced ranna; and drew the eager saraneth。 its forceful voice snapped out; sound weaving a net of domination over the foul creature。 the mordaut made no effort to resist; even to make a mouth to whine its cause。 sabriel felt it succumb to her will; via the medium of saraneth。
she put the bell back; but hesitated as her hand fell on kibeth。 sleeper and master had spoken well; but walker sometimes had its own ideas; and it was stirring suspiciously under her hand。
best to wait a moment; to calm herself; sabriel thought; taking her hand away from the bandolier。
she sheathed her sword; and looked around the shed。 to her surprise; everyone except touchstone and mogget was asleep。 they had only caught the echoes of ranna; which shouldn鈥檛 have been enough。 of course; ranna could be tricksome too; but its trickery was far less troublesome。
鈥渢his is a mordaut;鈥潯he said to touchstone; who was stifling a half…born yawn。 鈥渁 weak spirit; catalogued as one of the lesser dead。 they like to ride with the living鈥攃ohabiting the body to some extent; directing it; and slowly sipping the spirit away。 it makes them hard to find。鈥
鈥渨hat do we do with it now?鈥潯sked touchstone; eyeing the quivering lump of shadow with distaste。 it clearly couldn鈥檛 be cut up; consumed by fire; or anything else he could think of。
鈥渋 will banish it; send it back to die a true death;鈥潯eplied sabriel。 slowly; she drew kibeth; using both hands。 she still felt uneasy; for the bell was twisting in her grasp; trying to sound of its own accord; a sound that would make her walk in death。
she gripped it harder and rang the orthodox backwards; forwards and figure eight her father had taught her。 kibeth鈥檚 voice rang out; singing a merry tune; a capering jig that almost had sabriel鈥檚 feet jumping too; till she forced herself to be absolutely still。
the mordaut had no such free will。 for a moment; touchstone thought it was getting away; the shadow form suddenly leaping upwards; unreal flesh slipping up his blades almost to the cross…hilts。 then; it slid back down again鈥攁nd vanished。 back into death; to bob and spin in the current; howling and screaming with whatever voice it had there; all the way through to the final gate。
鈥渢hanks;鈥潯abriel said to touchstone。 she looked down at his two swords; still deeply embedded in the wooden floor。 they were no longer burning with silver flames; but she could see the charter marks moving on the blades。
鈥渋 didn鈥檛 realize your swords were ensorcelled;鈥
she continued。 鈥渢hough i鈥檓 glad they are。鈥
surprise crossed touchstone鈥檚 face; and confusion。
鈥渋 thought you knew;鈥潯e said。 鈥渋 took them from the queen鈥檚 ship。 they were a royal champion鈥檚 swords。 i didn鈥檛 want to take them; but mogget said you鈥斺
he stopped in mid…sentence; as sabriel let out a heartfelt sigh。
鈥渨ell; anyway;鈥潯e continued。 鈥渓egend has it that the wallmaker made them; at the same time he鈥攐r she; i suppose鈥攎ade your sword。鈥
鈥渕ine?鈥潯sked sabriel; her hand lightly touching the worn bronze of the guard。 she鈥檇 never thought about who鈥檇 made the sword鈥攊t just was。 鈥渋 was made for abhorsen; to slay those already dead;鈥潯he inscription said; when it said anything lucid at all。 so it probably was forged long ago; back in the distant past when the wall was made。 mogget would know; she thought。
mogget probably wouldn鈥檛; or couldn鈥檛; tell her鈥攂ut he would know。
鈥渋 suppose we鈥檇 better wake everybody up;鈥
she said; dismissing speculation about swords for the immediate present。
鈥渁re there more dead?鈥潯sked touchstone; grunting as he pulled his swords free of the floor。
鈥渋 don鈥檛 think so;鈥潯eplied sabriel。 鈥渢hat mordaut was very clever; for it had hardly sapped the spirit of poor 。 。 。 patar 。 。 。 so its presence was masked by his life。 it would have e to the island in that box of grave dirt; having impressed the poor man with instructions before they left the mainland。 i doubt whether any others would have done the same。 i can鈥檛 sense any here; at least。 i guess i should check the other buildings; and walk around the island; just to be sure。鈥
鈥渘ow?鈥潯sked touchstone。
鈥渘ow;鈥潯onfirmed sabriel。 鈥渂ut let鈥檚 wake everyone up first; and organize some people to carry lights for us。 we鈥檇 also better talk to the elder about a boat for the morning。鈥
鈥渁nd a good supply of fish;鈥潯dded mogget; who鈥檇 slunk back to the half…eaten whiting; his voice sharp above the heavy drone of snoring fisher…folk。
there were no dead on the island; though the archers reported seeing strange lights moving in the village; during brief lulls in the rain。 they鈥檇 heard movement on the breakwater too; and shot fire arrows onto the stones; but saw nothing before the crude; oily rag鈥搘rapped shafts guttered out。
sabriel advanced out on the breakwater; and stood near the sea gap; her oilskin coat loosely draped over her shoulders; shedding rain to the ground and down her neck。 she couldn鈥檛 see anything through the rain and dark; but she could feel the dead。 there were more than she had sensed earlier; or they had grown much stronger。 then; with a sickening feeling; she realized that this strength belonged to a single creature; only now emerging from death; using the broken stone as a portal。 an instant later; she recognized its particular presence。
the mordicant had found her。
鈥渢ouchstone;鈥潯he asked; fighting to keep the shivers from her voice。 鈥渃an you sail a boat by night?鈥
鈥測es;鈥潯eplied touchstone; his voice impersonal again; face dark in the rainy night; the lantern…light from the villagers behind him lighting only his back and feet。