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sick。 sabriel recoiled； disgusted； then halted； as a small metallic object fell from mogget鈥檚 mouth and bounced on the floor。
鈥渁lmost forgot；鈥潯aid mogget。 鈥測ou鈥檒l need this if i鈥檓 to e with you。鈥�
鈥渨hat is it？鈥潯sked sabriel； bending down to pick up a ring； a small silver ring； with a ruby gripped between two silver claws that grew out of the band。
鈥渙ld；鈥潯eplied mogget； enigmatically。 鈥測ou鈥檒l know if you need to use it。 put it on。鈥�
sabriel looked at it closely； holding it between two fingers as she slanted it towards the light。 it felt； and looked； quite ordinary。 there were no charter marks on the stone or band； it seemed to have no emanations or aura。 she put it on。
it felt cold as it slipped down her finger； then hot； and suddenly she was falling； falling into infinity； into a void that had no end and no beginning。 everything was gone； all light； all substance。 then charter marks suddenly exploded all around her and she felt gripped by them； halting her headlong fall into nothing； accelerating her back up； back into her body； back to the world of life and death。
鈥渇ree magic；鈥潯abriel said； looking down at the ring gleaming on her finger。 鈥渇ree magic； connected to the charter。 i don鈥檛 understand。鈥�
鈥測ou鈥檒l know if you need to use it；鈥潯ogget repeated； almost as if it were some lesson to be learned by rote。 then； in his normal voice： 鈥渄on鈥檛 worry about it till then。 e鈥攖he paperwing is ready。鈥�
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chapter xi
锝涘皬锝濓經璇达綕锝泃锝濓經xt锝濓經澶╋綕锝涘爞
the paperwing sat on a juryrigged platform of freshly sawn pine planks； teetering out over the eastern wall。 six sendings clustered around the craft； readying it for flight。
sabriel looked up at it as she climbed the stairs； an unpleasant feeling rising with her。 she had been expecting something similar to the aircraft that had begun to be mon in ancelstierre； like the biplane that had performed aerobatics at the last wyverley college open day。
something with two wings； rigging and a propeller鈥敗hough she had assumed a magical engine rather than a mechanical one。
but the paperwing didn鈥檛 look anything like an ancelstierran airplane。 it most closely resembled a canoe with hawk…wings and a tail。 on closer inspection； sabriel saw that the central fuselage was probably based on a canoe。 it was tapered at each end and had a central hole for a cockpit。
wings sprouted on each side of this canoe shape鈥攍ong； swept…back wings that looked very flimsy。 the wedge…shaped tail didn鈥檛 look much better。
sabriel climbed the last few steps with sinking expectations。 the construction material was now clear and so was the craft鈥檚 name鈥攖he whole thing was made up from many sheets of paper； bonded together with some sort of laminate。
painted powder…blue； with silver bands around the fuselage and silver stripes along the wings and tail； it looked pretty； decorative and not at all airworthy。
only the yellow falcon eyes painted on its pointed prow hinted at its capacity for flight。
sabriel looked at the paperwing again； and then out at the waterfall beyond。 now； fed by floodwaters； it looked even more frightening than usual。 spray exploded for tens of yards above its lip鈥攁 roaring mist the paperwing would have to fly through before it reached the open sky beyond。 sabriel didn鈥檛 even know if it was waterproof。
鈥渉ow often has this 。 。 。 thing 。 。 。 flown before？鈥潯he asked； nervously。 intellectually； she accepted that she would soon be sitting in this craft； to be launched out towards the crashing waters鈥攂ut her subconscious； and her stomach； seemed very keen to stay firmly on the ground。
鈥渕any times；鈥潯eplied mogget； easily jumping from the platform to the cockpit。 his voice echoed there for a moment； till he climbed back up； furry cat…face propped on the rim。 鈥渢he abhorsen who made it once flew it to the sea and back； in a single afternoon。 but she was a great weather…witch and could work the winds。 i don鈥檛 suppose鈥斺��
鈥渘o；鈥潯aid sabriel； made aware of another gap in her education。 she knew that wind…magic was largely whistled charter marks； but that was all。
鈥渘o。 i can鈥檛。鈥�
鈥渨ell；鈥潯ontinued mogget； after a thoughtful pause； 鈥渢he paperwing does have some elementary charms to ride the wind。 you鈥檒l have to whistle them； though。 you can whistle； i trust？鈥�
sabriel ignored him。 all necromancers had to be musical； had to be able to whistle； to hum； to sing。
if they were caught in death without bells； or other magical instruments； their vocal skills were a weapon of last recourse。
a sending came and took her pack； helping her to wrestle it off； then stowing it at the rear of the cockpit。 another took sabriel鈥檚 arm and directed her to what appeared to be a leather halfhammock strung across the cockpit鈥攐bviously the pilot鈥檚 seat。 it didn鈥檛 look terribly safe either； but sabriel forced herself to climb in； after giving her scabbarded sword into the hands of yet another sending。
surprisingly； her feet didn鈥檛 go through the paper…laminated floor。 the material even felt reassuringly solid and； after a minute of squirming； swaying and adjustment； the hammock…seat was very fortable。 sword and scabbard were slid into a receptacle at her side and mogget took up a position on top of the straps holding down her pack； just behind her shoulders； for the seat made her recline so far she was almost lying down。
from her new eye level； sabriel saw a small； oval mirror of silvered glass； fixed just below the cockpit rim。 it glittered in the late afternoon sun； and she felt it resonate with charter magic。
something about it prompted her to breathe upon it； her hot breath clouding the glass。 it stayed misted for a moment； then a charter mark slowly appeared； as if a ghostly finger was drawn across the clouded mirror。
sabriel studied it carefully； absorbing its purpose and effect。 it told her of the marks that would follow； marks to raise the lifting winds； marks for descending in haste； marks to call the wind from every corner of the pass rose。
there were other marks for the paperwing and； as sabriel absorbed them； she saw that the whole craft was lined with charter magic； infused with spells。 the abhorsen who made it had labored long； and with love； to create something that was more like a magical bird than an aircraft。
time passed； and the last mark faded。 the mirror cleared to be only a plate of silver glass shining in the sun。 sabriel sat； silent； fixing the charter marks in her memory； marveling at the power and the skill that had made the paperwing and had thought of this method of instruction。 perhaps one day； she too would have the mastery to create such a thing。
鈥渢he abhorsen who made this；鈥潯abriel asked。
鈥渨ho was she？ i mean； in relation to me？鈥�
鈥渁 cousin；鈥潯urred mogget； close to her ear。
鈥測our great…great…great…great…grandmother鈥檚 cousin。
the last of that line。 she had no children。鈥�
maybe the paperwing was her child； sabriel thought； running her hand along the sleek surface of the fuselage； feeling the charter marks quiescent in the fabric。 she felt a lot better a