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Both the young woman and her hound had come from the Great Library of the Clayr. It was likely both of them, like the Library, had hidden depths and contained unknown powers.
So I’ll do that, and I’ll do my best, and if my best isn’t good enough, at least I will have done everything I could, everything that is in me. I don’t have to try to be someone else, someone I could never be.”
She shook her head several times again as they went inside, past more armed schoolgirls, who looked on in awe at the legendary Sabriel and her consort, even if he was only the King of the Old Kingdom and nowhere near as interesting. Sabriel had once been one of them.
“What will I tell her parents if . . . if she doesn’t . . .” “I don’t know,” said Sabriel. “I have never known what to tell anybody. Except that it is better to do something than nothing, even if the cost is great.”
Life did go on, though it was never without struggle.
“It’s always better to be doing,” said Sam, quoting the Disreputable Dog. As he said it, he realized that he actually believed it now. He was still scared, still felt the knot of apprehension in his guts. But he knew it wouldn’t stop him from doing what had to be done. It was what his parents would expect, Sam thought, but he did not dwell on that. He could not think of Sabriel and Touchstone, or he would fall apart—and he could not, must not, do that.