She almost ran into Ellimere halfway down, coming up rather more slowly than Lirael was descending, the princess almost dropping the sheaf of messages she was bringing for the message-hawks to send.

“You’re in a hurry,” said the princess cheerfully. “What’s happening?”

“Urgent message from Sam’s friend Nick in Ancelstierre,” gabbled Lirael. “A Free Magic creature, they need help. I thought I’d take a paperwing and fly down—”

“Wait! Wait!” cried Ellimere. She was still smiling, but there was the beginning of a frown on her forehead as well. “Have you got the message?”

Lirael handed her the paper. Ellimere read it, her frown intensifying.

“But no formal message from the Crossing Point Scouts at the Perimeter, or the government via our embassy in Corvere?”

“Mistress Finney only had that one,” said Lirael.

“Strange there should be nothing official,” said Ellimere. “And several hundred miles south, there’s no chance it could actually be a Free Magic creature. You can’t even feel the Charter that far into Ancelstierre. There must be something else going on. I wonder if it’s some sort of trap, to lure Mother into another assassination attempt . . .”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Lirael, suddenly acutely aware that she had let her eagerness to get busy overrule any deeper thinking. She should have particularly thought of a trap aimed at Sabriel. The Abhorsen and King Touchstone had almost been killed in Ancelstierre seven months before by assassins from the Our Country party, who had been secretly funded and directed by Hedge, the necromancer servant of Orannis. Though the leadership of that party and the few surviving assassins were all in prison now, there might still be some outlying groups who intended harm to Sabriel, not knowing there was no longer any purpose in doing so.

“You’d think the Clayr would have Seen anything serious coming up, too,” continued Ellimere. “I mean, the aged parents only agreed to go on holiday because it’s been so quiet and the Clayr said they hadn’t Seen anything nasty on the horizon.”

“The visions aren’t always clear,” said Lirael, who, though she lacked the Sight to see the future, had grown up among the clan of female seers in their fortress under the Glacier. “I mean, they See many possible futures, and have to look for patterns or recurring visions. And sometimes their Sight is clouded by other magic.”

“They normally See the big stuff, though,” said Ellimere. She paused and then added, “Eventually . . .”

“Almost too late sometimes,” said Lirael, with feeling. The Clayr had been very late in Seeing exactly what Orannis was, and what it planned. “Besides, they can’t See what happens in Ancelstierre, at least not much beyond the Wall. What if there really is a Free Magic creature loose over there? They have few—or maybe no—mages apart from the Crossing Point Scouts on the Perimeter.”

“But there can’t be a Free Magic creature that far south,” said Ellimere. “It just isn’t possible.”

It was Lirael’s turn to be silent for a moment. She was thinking.