‘Caught it in a storm of Charter marks, forced it into a bottle,’ said Bel. ‘Least, that’s what Kargrin told me this morning. Very difficult, those binding spells. I’ll learn them one day. I know some of the master marks, but you have to build up to them. They’ll kill you otherwise, burn your throat or blast your fingers off.’

Clariel turned back to the window, and looked out at the blue sky and the sun. So Aziminil was back in a bottle, trapped by magic in a tiny prison, never to emerge. She shivered, thinking of such confinement herself. But at the same time she told herself Aziminil was a Free Magic creature, something inimical to mortal life. She had to be captured and imprisoned.

Didn’t she?

‘When are you going?’ asked Bel.

‘As soon as I can,’ said Clariel. ‘I have to see Kargrin first, to get my money and some help out of the city. Maybe tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ Bel nearly choked on his grape. ‘When you said soon, I thought you meant a few weeks, or months. Tomorrow …’

‘If I can,’ said Clariel. She looked back at Bel, who was staring at her. ‘What?’

‘Oh, I just thought,’ muttered Bel. ‘I … ah … thought perhaps we could get to know each other better …’

Clariel frowned. She knew this kind of talk from young men, and that it had to be nipped in the bud.

‘I’m not interested in romance,’ she said. ‘Love, marriage … none of that. Besides, what about you and Denima?’

‘We’re friends,’ protested Bel. ‘And I just, you know, I like you. I thought we have things in common, being Abhorsens –’

‘I don’t think the rest of your family would consider me an Abhorsen,’ said Clariel. ‘Do you know why my mother never speaks to them?’

‘Not really,’ said Bel. ‘Only I thought it was they who don’t speak to her. It’s pretty easy to cross Great-Uncle Tyriel, he’s a mean-spirited old curmudgeon. What did she do? Steal his favourite horse when she ran away from Hillfair?’

Clariel shook her head.

‘No. It’s not for me to speak of it. Enough to say that there is a great divide, one that I’m sure extends to me as well.’

‘This Abhorsen sees no divide and is very grateful to you,’ said Bel. ‘I hope we can stay friends, Clariel. I’m not the bothersome kind, it was just a momentary rush of blood to the head, you understand.’

Clariel laughed. A short, almost sardonic laugh.

‘You don’t look like you’ve got much blood anywhere. You’re paler than ever.’

‘I am a bit tired,’ said Bel. He hesitated, then added, ‘But you know I’m pale because I’ve walked in Death, right?’

‘No …’ said Clariel, looking at him again. ‘I have heard people speak of it a few times. That the Abhorsens can enter Death, and return.’