Before she went to join Sam and Mogget downstairs, Lirael paused for an instant to check out herself in the tall silver mirror that hung over the wall of her room. The picture that encountered her bore little resemblance to the Second Assistant Librarian of the Clayr. She noticed a warlike and grim young woman, dark locks bound back having a metallic cord instead of hanging free to disguise her encounter. She no more used her librarian’s waistcoat, and she acquired a long Nehima at her part rather than library-issue dagger. but she experienced kept her library whistle, tucking it into the small pouch at her belt. Though she was many, many leagues from any help the whistle might summon, she experienced the necessity to cling to some small part of her past and her identity.

She had become an Abhorsen, Lirael thought, at least externally.