The sunshine was harsh to their eyes, for it was surprisingly only a little past noon. They stumbled out onto the marble steps of the cave, blinking like noal animals prematurely flushed out of an underground warren.
Sabriel looked around at the quiet, sunlit trees, the placid expanse of grass, the clogged fountain.
Everything seemed so normal, so far removed from the crazed and twisted chamber of horrors that was the reservoir, deep beh their feet.
She looked at the sky, too, losing focus in the blue, retreating lines of clouds just edging about the fuzzy periphery of her vision. My father is dead, she thought. Gone forever . . .
“The road winds around the south-western part of Palace Hill,” a voice said, somewhere near her, beyond the blueness.
“What?”
“The road. Up to the West Yard.”
It was Touchstoalking. Sabriel closed her eyes, told herself to trate, to get a grip on the here and now. She opened her eyes and looked at Touchstone.
He was a me……（内容加载失败！）
(ò﹏ò)
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