‘But, isn’t the Abhorsen meant to travel about the Kingdom making sure the Dead stay Dead, that Free Magic creatures like the one we faced don’t appear, and so on?’ asked Clariel. ‘I know there hasn’t been trouble, but if he’s hunting all the time instead …’

‘Exactly,’ said Bel darkly. ‘That’s always been my point, that there might be all kinds of perils slowly brewing. But no one down there wants to know, they simply don’t believe that things could turn back to the bad old days. Like I said, I doubt if Yannael has even read The Book of the Dead. Maybe even Tyriel hasn’t himself. I can’t remember ever seeing him wear the bells. That’s why I’m getting ready, so at least someone is prepared.’

‘Prepared for what?’ asked Clariel. As she spoke, she felt a shiver pass through her, and the Paperwing’s shadow cut like a knife across the silver waters of the Ratterlin below.

‘Whatever happens,’ said Bel. ‘Take that Free Magic creature in Belisaere, for example. The Abhorsen should have come to deal with it straight away, not left it to Kargrin and Mistress Ader. And why would something of that power be free now? I bet there’s more, or more coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Clayr have already warned Tyriel and he’s just ignored it, like the King ignores everything he doesn’t want to know about. Charter save us from old men!’

‘I hope you’re wrong,’ said Clariel. ‘It seems to me there’s enough trouble with Kilp, let alone anything worse.’

‘True,’ said Bel. ‘But Kilp is a purely ordinary, mortal problem. At least he is now that his allied creature is safely imprisoned. He shouldn’t be too difficult to defeat. If the Abhorsen takes even a hundred Charter Mages north, and the Clayr come south in force – there’s thousands of Clayr – no ordinary army will be able to stand against them. Kilp doesn’t realise what a big group of really powerful Mages can do. He should have been shown, then he wouldn’t have dared to do anything.’

‘Maybe,’ said Clariel. ‘I doubt it will be that easy.’

‘It will,’ said Bel confidently. ‘Oh, thank the Charter! There’s the landing lawn, finally! I could sleep for a week.’

The lawn he was referring to was a long swathe of well-cut grass between the river and the road that ran along the ridge and up to Hillfair itself. There was a tall pole at one end, the flag on it spread by the westerly wind to show the silver keys of the Abhorsens on a blue field.

‘We’re going to land around the same time the hunt goes by on the road,’ said Clariel cautiously. ‘The Paperwing won’t scare the horses?’