It had been fifteen years since Orannis had tried to destroy the world and was defeated. He was yet again imprisoned again under wards of gold, silver, and lead; rowan, ash, and oak; and the final layer of bone.

The dark river flowed through the fog, the only muffled sounds coming from the person wading towards the First Gate. She wore a dark blue surcoat emblazoned with the Star of the Clayr and the Key of the Abhorsen, a bandolier of seven bells across her chest; the smallest the size of a pill box and the largest the size of her hand.

Lirael stopped walking toward the first gate. She did not sense any Dead but she could have sworn that she heard something moving along the boundary of Life and Death.

That's funny, Lirael slowly turned in a circle as she looked for any signs of the Dead, Free Magic creatures, or a Necromancer. I could have sworn there was something following me.

Sword in one hand, Lirael couldn't shake the feeling that she knew that sound. She placed her bell hand on Kibeth, the wood of this particular bell comforting as always, but before she could find out what was following her, Lirael felt something grab her arm in Life.

As Lirael opened her eyes, Nicholas let go of her arm. Frost cracked and fell off her clothes as she turned to follow Nicholas.

Two Clayr ushered Sabriel towards the paperwing,; one on either side of the Abhorsen, the wands they carried designating them the Voice of the Nine Day Watch.

"Here is the paperwing-"

"-it will take you back to Belisaere."

"Give the King our regards."

"I will," Lirael barely heard Sabriel's whisper as the Clayr hugged the older woman before helping her into the paperwing. Sabriel whistled and the Charter-spelled wind picked up and carried the paperwing above the trees and toward Belisaere.

Lirael looked towards Sanar and Ryelle, who enveloped their young cousin in their arms. She leaned into her older cousins, shaken up by the fear she heard in Sabriel's voice.

Touchstone opened his eyes, Sabriel's calloused hand caressing his cheek.

"Hey there," she whispered, giving him a soft kiss as her hand made her way through his grey curls. "I'm glad to see you're awake."

Touchstone knew why she was there, very few things took his wife away from her duties as the Abhorsen – even when she was eight months pregnant with their first child she sent a Mordicant back beyond the final gate. An involuntary shudder escaped him at the memory, the fear that he was going to lose his wife and child as fresh as it was that day.

Sabriel readjusted herself so that she was curled up at his side; her head resting on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his chest as the other found Touchstones hand and pulled it to her chest. Sabriel thought back to all of the nights she spent sleeping in inns when they were available, on the ground when they weren't, as she traversed the Kingdom to keep the Dead at bay.

The familiar pit in her stomach raged as guilt clenched her heart, thinking of all the time she lost with him because of their duties. Despite the knowledge that they both put the Kingdom first, the years Touchstone had lost repairing the great Charter stones weighed heavily on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry that we didn't get more time together," she whispered, kissing his hand.

"It was enough."

The sound of the fire crackling and popping in the fireplace filled the room

"Have the kids been by recently?" Sabriel asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to talk about something – anything – that wasn't her guilt.

"Yes," he squeezed her hand, a silent acknowledgement of their feelings. "Do you remember when you told me you were pregnant with Ellimere?"

Sabriel's body stiffened, and she stopped stroking his hair for a moment. "I still don't know why you find that so funny – your timing could not have possibly been worse. We had only just bound Kerrigor and then you go and get me pre-"

Touchstone cut her off with a kiss and he grinned. "Yes, yes, I know. The Dead were everywhere and you didn't have time to be pregnant," his expression got serious for a moment, "and yes it wasn't safe for either of you but I have no regrets."

"Except the morning sickness."

Touchstone chuckled, remembering the way Sabriel would curse and glare at him from over the chamber pot they had brought in just for her.

"And suggesting Touchstone II for a name."

"That was a good name!"

"I love how stubborn you are," grinned Touchstone, rolling onto his side so the two of them were nose to nose.

They stopped talking and Touchstone took the time to memorize Sabriel's face. The little wrinkles by and under her eyes, the lines on either side of her mouth, the greys that had started appearing in her hair, the commanding presence that she possessed. I can't believe I'm leaving her.

Sabriel lay there, staring at the grey curls that used to be as dark as her own hair, mesmerized by how regal Touchstone was– even as he lay dying.

"You know," he whispered, not breaking eye contact, "I could wait for you."

"No."

"Oh I wouldn't become one of the Dead, I'd wait just before the Ninth Gate for you," tears began to well up in both their eyes but they didn't fall.

Sabriel forced a smile and gently poked his nose. "Don't make me march you all the way there to make sure you go."

"If it means I get to spend even a few more moments with you," he kissed her hand, "then it'd be worth it."

"You know I can't let you do that," Sabriel shut her eyes, pressing their foreheads together.

In the silence that followed, Touchstone wrapped her in an embrace, pressing his lips to her forehead. But he lacked the strength to pull her close and Sabriel noticed, leaning more into him.

"I can feel the river around my feet, Sabriel," he whispered, clutching her hand as he buried his face in her hair. Home, she smells like home.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Touchstone paused, cupping her cheek in his hand. "No," he whispered, thumb rubbing a tear away. "This is something I have to do on my own."

The current grew stronger around his ankles and he could feel the current pulling him into the river. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Touchstone. So much," she replied, kissing him fiercely. She considered biting his lip to pull him back into life as she had before, but deciding to let him go.

Sabriel stroked his cheek, telling him how much she loved him as she watched his eyes close for the final time and his breathing come to a stop.

It wasn't until she felt his spirit leave his body that Sabriel buried her face in the crook of his neck and allowed herself to cry.

Touchstone stood in the river, feeling the strong pull of the river strong against his shins growing stronger with each step he took towards the First Gate.

There was splashing behind him, and Touchstone turned around the greeting for Sabriel dying on his lips as he saw a dog standing there.

"Hello there, King Touchstone. I've been waiting for you."

"Hello, Dog," he replied, a smile taking over his face.

"I'm here to walk you to the final gate, you know." The Dog sniffed at his pockets. "By any chance are those sausages I smell?" she asked, licking her chops as they made their way to the First Gate.