Neither Sabriel nor Mogget mentioned the happenings of the previous night when they awoke. Sabriel, bathing her seriously swollen nose in an inch of water from her canteen, found that she didn’t particularly want to remember a waking nightmare, and Mogget was quiet, in an apologetic way. Despite what happened later, freeing Mogget’s alter ego, or whatever it was, had saved them from certain destruction by the wind.

As she’d expected, dawn had brought some light to the sinkhole, and as the day progressed, this had grown to a level approximating twilight.

Sabriel could read and see things close by quite clearly, but they merged into indistinct gloom twenty or thirty yards away.

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