“Cloven Crest lay before her. A narrow ridge where several slopes of the hill met to form a miniature plateau, with a slight depression in the middle. [..] There were no trees, no vegetation at all, but in the very center of the drift a dark grey stone cast a long moonshadow. It was twice Sabriel’s girth and three times her height, and looked whole until she walked closer and saw the zigzag crack that cut it down the middle.”