There was a built-up path through the flooded fields, but it was submerged to ankle-depth, with occasional thigh-high slippages.
Only the raised al drains stood well above the brackish water, and they all ran towards the east, not towards the village, so Sabriel and Touchstone were forced to wade along the path. Mogget, of course, rode, his lean form draped around Sabriel’s neck like a white fox fur.
Water and mud, coupled with an uain path, made it slow going. It took an hour to cover less than a mile, so it was later iernoon than Sabriel would have wished when they finally climbed out of the water, up onto the beginnings of the village’s rocky mount. At least the sky is clear, Sabriel thought, glang up. The winter sun wasn’t particularly hot and couldn’t be described as glaring, but it would certainly deter most kindred of the Lesser Dead from venturing out.
heless, they walked carefully up to the village, swords loose, Sabriel with a hand to her ……（内容加载失败！）
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