There was no time for greetings further up the ridge, either. Lirael simply snapped out orders as Ellimere, Sabriel and Touchstone arrived. She sent them to help make the first three marks of each diamond of protection, saving the last mark till everyone was inside and the diamonds could be completed. For a moment, Lirael had stumbled over her instructions, fearing that they might protest, for who was she to give orders to the King and the Abhorsen? But they didn’t, quickly going to their tasks, building the diamonds jointly to save time, each taking a cardinal mark.

Major Greene hadn’t questioned her orders either, Lirael noticed with relief. What was left of his company was running pell-mell across the valley, the able-bodied carrying the wounded, with the Major’s shouts speeding them on the way. They were shouting at the Southerlings too, telling them to lie down and look away. Lirael hoped the Southerlings would listen, though the sight of the whirling column of fire had the power to entrance as well as terrify.

Sam staggered up between Sanar and Ryelle, who smiled at Lirael as they brought him to the centre of the incipient diamond. Lirael smiled back, a brief smile that took her back for a moment to the twins’ words the day she had left the Glacier. “You must remember that, Sighted or not, you are a Daughter of the Clayr.”

Lirael closed the outer diamond with a cardinal mark and stepped inside the next incomplete diamond. As she passed him, Touchstone let the Northmark flow down his sword to close the second diamond behind her. He smiled at Lirael as they stepped back inside the third and final diamond, and she saw the strong resemblance between him and his son.

Sabriel herself closed the inner diamond. In only a few minutes they had raised magical defences of triple strength. Lirael hoped it would be enough and they would survive to do what must be done. She had a momentary panic then, and had to quickly count on her fingers to make sure they had the necessary seven. Herself, Sameth, Ellimere, Sabriel, Touchstone, Sanar, Ryelle. That was seven, though she was not sure it was really the right seven.

The lines of the diamond shone golden but were pallid in comparison with the fierce light of the column of fire. Vast as that roaring column was, Lirael knew it was only the first and least of the nine manifestations of the Destroyer’s power. Worse was to come, and soon.

Sam knelt over sword and panpipes, weaving his spell. Lirael checked that the Dog and Mogget were safely inside the diamond, and noticed that Nick’s body was inside too, which somehow seemed right. There was also a large thistle bush, which was annoying and showed her haste. She hadn’t had time to think about where the diamonds should be.

Everyone within the diamonds, save Sam, was stiff and awkward for a moment, in that strange calm before impending disaster. Then Sabriel took Lirael into a loose embrace and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“So you are the sister I never knew I had,” said Sabriel. “I would wish that we had met earlier, and on a more auspicious occasion. We have had many revelations thrust upon us, more than my tired mind can take in, I fear. We have gone by boat and van and aeroplane and Paperwing to come here, almost without rest, and the Clayr have Seen a great deal very suddenly. They tell me that we face a great spirit of the Beginning, and that you are not only heir to my office but a Remembrancer too, and you have Seen the past as other Clayr See the future. So please tell us – what must we do?”

“I’m so glad you’re all here now,” replied Lirael. It was terribly tempting to just fall apart during this brief lull, but she could not. Everything depended upon her. Everything.

She took a deep breath and continued, “The Destroyer is building up to Its second manifestation, which I hope... I hope the diamonds will save us from. Afterwards, It will diminish for a little time, and it is then we must go down to It, warding ourselves against the fires that the second manifestation will leave behind. The binding spell we will use ourselves is simple, and I will teach it to you now. But first, everyone must take a bell from me... or from the Abhorsen.”

“Call me Sabriel,” said Sabriel firmly. “Does it matter which bell?”

“There will be one that feels right, one that will speak to your blood. Each of us will be standing for one of the original Seven, as they live on in our bloodline and in the bells,” stammered Lirael, nervous about instructing her elders. Sabriel was quite frightening up close and it was hard to remember that she was her own sister, not just the near-legendary binder of the Dead. But Lirael did know what she was doing. She had seen in the Dark Mirror how the binding had been done and how it must be done again, and she could feel the affinities between the bells and the people.

Though there was something strange about Sanar and Ryelle. Lirael looked at them, and her heart almost stopped as she realised that as twins, their spirits were intertwined. They could wield only one bell between them. There would only be six of the needed seven.

She stood frozen and horrified as the others stepped forward and took their bells from Sabriel.

“Saraneth for me, I think,” said Sabriel, but she left the bell in the bandoleer. “Touchstone?”

“Ranna for me,” replied Touchstone. “The Sleeper seems very appropriate, given my past.”

“I will take a bell from my aunt, if I may,” said Ellimere. “Dyrim, I think.”

Lirael mechanically handed the bell to her niece. Ellimere looked very like Sabriel, with the same sort of contained force inside her. But she had her father’s smile, Lirael saw, even through her panic.

“We will hold Mosrael together,” said Sanar and Ryelle in unison.

Lirael shut her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t counted right, she thought. But she could feel who should have which bell. She opened her eyes again and with shaking hands started to undo a strap on her bandoleer.

“Sam will have Belgaer, and... and I will wield both Astarael and... and Kibeth, to make the seven.”

She spoke as confidently as she could, but there was a quaver in her voice. She could not wield two bells. Not for this binding. There had to be seven wielders, not just seven bells.

“Hmmph,” woofed the Dog, standing up and wriggling her hindquarters in a somewhat embarrassed fashion. “Not Kibeth. I shall stand for myself.”

Lirael’s hand fumbled on the strap that held Astarael silent, and she only just managed to prevent the bell’s mournful call, which would send all who heard it into Death.

“But you said you weren’t one of the Seven!” Lirael protested, though she had long suspected the truth about the Dog. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, for the Dog was her best and oldest friend, long her only friend. Lirael could not imagine Kibeth as her friend.

“I lied,” said the Dog cheerily. “That’s one of the reasons I’m the Disreputable Dog. Besides, I’m only what’s left of Kibeth, in a roundabout, hand-me-down sort of way. Not quite the same. But I’ll stand against the Destroyer. Against Orannis, as one of your Seven.”

As the Dog spoke the Destroyer’s name, the column of fire roared higher still and punched through the remnants of the storm clouds. It was more than a mile high now, and dominated all the western sky, its red light defeating the yellow of the sun.

Lirael wanted to say something, but the words were choked by incipient tears. She did not know whether they were of relief or sadness. Whatever was to come, she knew nothing would ever be the same with her and the Disreputable Dog.

Instead of speaking, she scratched the Dog’s head. Just twice, running her fingers through the soft dog hair. Then she quickly recited the binding spell, showing everyone the marks and words they would have to use.

“Sam is making the sword that I will use to break the Destroyer once It is bound,” Lirael finished. At least she hoped he was. As if to reinforce her hope, she added, “He is a true inheritor of the Wallmaker’s powers.”