“Well, that’s done, Mistress,” she whispered, her head dropping back. “I have to leave you now.” “No,” sobbed Lirael. She hugged her with her handless arm and buried her cheek against the Dog’s snout. “It was supposed to be me! I won’t let you go! I love you, Dog!” “There’ll be other dogs, and friends, and loves,” whispered the Dog. “You have found your family, your heritage; and you have earned a high place in the world. I love you, too, but my time with you has passed. Goodbye, Lirael.” Then she was gone, and Lirael was left bowed over a small soapstone statue of a dog.