Abhorsen

Nick cried out in horror as they entered the tu

Hedge was struggling ahead, Nick saw. But it was not exactly Hedge. It was more a Hedge-shaped thing of darkness, limned with red fire that fought against the gold. Every step he took was clearly an effort, and the gold flames seemed almost a physical force that was trying to prevent his crossing through the tu

Suddenly a whole group of the Night Crew ahead blazed, like candles collapsing into a final pool of wax, and disappeared completely. Before the people on either side could relink arms or new Night Crew rush in, the golden fire took advantage of the gap and roared out all the way across the tu

With the golden fire came a piercing cold pain in his heart, as if an icicle had been thrust through his chest. But it also brought a sudden clarity to his mind, and sharper senses. He could see individual symbols in the flames and the stones, symbols that moved and changed and formed in new combinations. These were the Charter marks he’d heard about, Nick realised. The magic of Sameth... and Lirael.

Everything that had happened recently rushed back into his head. He remembered Lirael and the winged dog. The flight from his tent. Hiding in the reeds. His conversation with Lirael. He had promised her that he would do whatever he could to stop Hedge.

The flames beat at Nick’s chest but did not burn his skin. They tried to attack what was in him, to force the shard from his body. But it was a power beyond the magic of the Wall, and that power chose to reassert itself even as Nick tried to embrace the Charter fire, grabbing at flames and even attempting to swallow flickers of golden light.

White sparks spewed out of Nick’s mouth, nose and ears, and his body suddenly uncurled, went ramrod straight and flipped upright, elbows and knees vertically locked. Like some inflexible doll, Nick tottered forward, the golden flames raging at every step. Deep within his own mind he knew what was happening, but he was only an observer. He had no power over his own muscles. The shard had control, though it didn’t know how to make him walk properly.

Joints locked, Nick lumbered on, past countless ranks of burning Night Crew, as more and more of them poured into the tu

Ahead of him Hedge burst out of the tu

He had crossed the Wall and was in Ancelstierre. Or rather, in the no-man’s-land between the Wall and the Perimeter. Normally this would be a quiet, empty place of raw earth and barbed wire, made somehow peaceful by the soft whisper of the wind flutes that Nick had always presumed to be some sort of weird decoration or memorial. Now it was wreathed in fog, fog eerily underlit by the low, red glow of the setting sun and flashes of lightning. The fog thi

Lightning crackled above him and thunder rumbled. Fog billowed apart and Nick caught a glimpse of the hemispheres a little way ahead, roped on to the huge sleds that Nick knew had been waiting for them when they off-loaded the barges at the Redmouth. But he couldn’t remember that happening, or anything between talking to Lirael in the reed boat and his awakening just before crossing the Wall. The hemispheres had been dragged here, obviously by the men who were dragging them now. Normal men, or at least not the Night Crew. Men dressed in strange, ragged combinations of Ancelstierran Army uniforms and Old Kingdom clothes, khaki tunics contrasting with hunting leathers, bright coloured breeches and rusty mail.

The force that had propelled him though the tu

“Soon,” said Hedge, his voice rumbling like the thunder. “Soon our master will be free.”

Nick found himself nodding enthusiastically and was as frightened by this as he was by Hedge. He was already drifting back into that dreamy state where all he could think about was the hemispheres and his Lightning Farm, and what had to be done—

“No,” whispered Nick. What must not be done. He didn’t know what was happening, and until he did know, he wasn’t going to do anything. “No!”

Hedge recognised that Nick spoke with an independent voice. He gri

“Your part is nearly done, Nicholas Sayre,” he said, and his breath was hot like steam and smelled of decay. “You were never more than an imperfect host, though your uncle and father have proved to be more helpful than even I could have hoped, albeit unwittingly.”

Nick could only stare up at the burning eyes. Already he had forgotten everything that had come back to him in the tu

“The hemispheres,” he whispered, almost ritually. “The hemispheres must be joined.”

“Soon, Master, soon,” crooned Hedge. He stalked over to the waiting bearers and laid Nicholas down on the stretcher, stroking his chest just above his heart with a blackened, still-burning hand. What little was left of Nick’s Ancelstierran shirt dissolved at Hedge’s touch, showing bare skin that was blue with deep bruising. “Soon!”

Nick watched dully as Hedge walked away. No independent thought was left to him. Only the burning vision of the hemispheres and their ultimate joining. He tried to sit up to look at them but didn’t have the strength, and in any case the fog was thickening once again. Wearied by the effort, Nick’s hands fell to the ground on either side of the stretcher and one finger touched a piece of debris that sent a strange feeling through his arm. A sharp pain and a gentle, healing warmth.