Chapter 12 CHAPTER SIX: LIGHTED FLIERS-2

What was happening to him? Serafina hovered above the water a few feet away, gazing horrified. She had heard from travelers in her own world of the legend of the vampire, and she thought of that as she watched the Specter busy gorging on—something, some quality the man had, his soul, his daemon, perhaps; , evidently, daemons were inside, not outside. His arms slackened under the childs thighs, and the child fell into the water behind him and grabbed vainly at his hand, gasping, crying, but the man only turned his head slowly and looked down with perfect indifference at his little son drowning beside him.

That was too much for Serafina. She swooped lower and plucked the child from the water, and as she did so, Ruta Skadi cried out: "Be careful, sister! Behind you—" And Serafina felt just for a moment a hideous dullness at the edge of her heart, and reached out and up for Ruta Skadis hand, which pulled her away from the danger. They flew higher, the child screaming and clinging to her waist with sharp fingers , and Serafina saw the Specter behind her, a drift of mist swirling on the water, casting about for its lost prey. Ruta Skadi shot an arrow into the heart of it, with no effect at all.

Serafina put the child down on the riverbank, seeing that it was in no danger from the Specters, and they retreated to the air again. The little band of travelers had halted for good now; the horses cropped the grass or shook their heads at flies , the children were howling or clutching one another and watching from a distance, and every adult had fallen still. Their eyes were open; some were standing, though most had sat down; Specters drifted away, sated, Serafina flew down and alighted in front of a woman sitting on the grass, a strong, healthy-looking woman whose cheeks were red and whose fair hair was glossy.

"Woman?" said Serafina. There was no response. "Can you hear me? Can you see me?" She shook her shoulder. With an enormous effort the woman looked up. She scarcely seemed to notice. Her eyes were vacant, and when Serafina pinched the skin of her forearm, she merely looked down slowly and then away again. The other witches were moving through the scattered wagons, looking at the victims in dismay. The children, meanwhile, were gathering on a little knoll some way off, staring at the witches and whispering together fearfully. "The horses watching," said a witch.

She pointed up to where the road led through a gap in the hills. The rider whod fled had reined in his horse and turned around to look back, shading his eyes to see what was going on. "Well speak to him," said Serafina, and sprang into the air. However the man had behaved when faced with the Specters, he was no coward. As he saw the witches approach, he unslung the rifle from his back and kicked the horse forward onto the grass, where he could wheel and fire and face them in the open; but Serafina Pekkala alighted slowly and held her bow out before laying it on the ground in front of her.

Whether or not they had that gesture here, its meaning was unmistakable. The man lowered the rifle from his shoulder and waited, looking from Serafina to the other witches, and up to their daemons too, who circled in the skies above. Women, young and ferocious, dressed in scraps of black silk and riding pine branches through the sky—there was nothing like that in his world, but he faced them with calm wariness. Serafina, coming closer, saw sorrow in his face as well, and strength. It was hard to reconcile with the memory of his turning tail and running while his companions perished. "Who are you?" he said.

"My name is Serafina Pekkala. I am the queen of the witches of Lake Enara, which is in another world. What is your name?" "Joachim Lorenz. Witches, you say? Do you treat with the devil, then?" "If we did, would that make us your enemy?" He thought for a few moments, and settled his rifle across his thighs. "It might have done, once," he said, "but times have changed. Why have you come to this world?" "Because the times have changed. What are those creatures who attacked your party?" "Well, the Specters..." he said, shrugging, half-astonished. "Don't you know the Specters?"

"Weve never seen them in our world. We saw you making your escape, and we didnt know what to think. Now I understand." "Theres no defense against them," said Joachim Lorenz. "Only the children are untouched. Every party of travelers has to include a man and a woman on horseback, by law, and they have to do what we did, or else the children will have no one to look after them. But times are bad now; the cities are thronged with Specters, and there used to be no more than a dozen or so in each place." Ruta Skadi was looking around. She noticed the other rider moving back toward the wagons, and saw that it was, indeed, a woman. The children were running to meet her.

"But tell me what you're looking for," Joachim Lorenz went on. "You didn't answer me before. You wouldn't have come here for nothing. Answer me now." "Were looking for a child," said Serafina, "a young girl from our world. Her name is Lyra Belacqua, called Lyra Silver-tongue. But where she might be, in a whole world, we cant guess. You havent seen a Strange child, on her own?" "No. But we saw angels the other night, making for the Pole." "Angels?" "Troops of them in the air, armed and shining. They havent been so common in the last years, though in my grandfathers time they passed through this world often, or so he used to say."

He shaded his eyes and gazed down toward the scattered wagons, the halted travelers. The other rider had dismounted now and was comforting some of the children. Serafina followed his gaze and said, "If we camp with you tonight and keep guard against the Specters, will you tell us more about this world, and these angels you saw?" "Certainly I will. Come with me." The witches helped to move the wagons farther along the road, over the bridge and away from the trees where the Specters had come from. The stricten adults had to stay where they were, though it was painful to see the little children clinging to a mother who no longer responded to

them, or tugging the sleeve of a father who said nothing and gazed into nothing and had nothing in his eyes. The younger children couldnt understand why they had to leave their parents. The older ones, some of whom had already lost parents of their own and who had seen it before, simply looked bleak and stayed dumb. Serafina picked up the little boy who fell in the river, and who was crying out for his daddy, reaching back over Serafinas shoulder to the silent figure still standing in the water, indifferent. Serafina felt his tears on her bare skin. The horsewoman, who wore rough canvas breeches and rode like a man, said nothing to the witches. Her face was grim. She moved the children on, speaking sternly, ignoring their tears. every detail was clear and nothing was dazzling, and the faces of the children and the man and woman too seemed immortal and strong and beautiful. Later, as the embers of a fire glowed in a circle of ashy rocks and the great hills lay calm under the moon, Joachim Lorenz told Serafina and Ruta Skadi about the history of his world. It had once been a happy one, he explained. The cities were spacious and elegant, the fields well tilled and fertile. Merchant ships plied to and fro on the blue oceans, and fishermen hauled in brimming nets of cod and tunny, bass and mullet ; the forests ran with game, and no children went hungry. In the courts and squares of the great cities ambassadors from Brasil and Benin, from Eireland and Corea mingled with tabaco sellers, with commedia players from Bergamo, with dealers in fortune bonds. At night masked lovers met under the rose-hung colonnades or in the lamplit gardens, and the air stirred with the scent of jasmine and throbbed to the music of the wire-strung mandarone. The witches listened wide-eyed to this tale of a world so like theirs and yet so different. "But it went wrong," he said. "Three hundred years ago, it all went wrong. Some people reckon the philosophers Guild of the Torre degli Angeli, the Tower of the Angels, in the city we have just left, theyre the ones to blame. Others say it was a judgment on us for some great sin, though I never heard any agreement about what that sin was. But suddenly out of nowhere there came the Specters, and weve been haunted ever since. . Now imagine what it is to live in a world with Specters in it. How can we prosper, when we cant rely on anything continuing as it is? At any moment a father might be taken, or a mother, and the family fall apart. ; a merchant might be taken, and his enterprise fail, and all his clerks and factors lose their employment; and how can lovers trust their vows? All the trust and all the virtue fell out of our world when the Specters came." "Who are these philosophers?" said Serafina. "And where is this tower you speak of?" "In the city we left—Cittagazze. The city of magpies. You know why its called that? Because magpies steal, and thats all we can do now. We create nothing, we have built nothing for hundreds of years, all we can do is steal from other worlds. Oh, yes, we know about other worlds. Those philosophers in the Torre degli Angeli discovered all we need to know about that subject. They have a spell which, if you say it, lets you walk through a door that isn't there, and find yourself in another world. Some say its not a spell but a key that can open even where there isn't a lock. Who knows? Whatever it is, it let the Specters in. And the philosophers use it still, I understand. They pass into other worlds and steal from them and bring back what they find. Gold and jewels, of course, but other things too, like ideas , or sacks of corn, or pencils. They are the source of all our wealth," he said bitterly, "that Guild of thieves." "Why dont the Specters harm children?" asked Ruta Skadi. "That is the greatest mystery of all. In the innocence of children theres some power that repels the Specters of Indifference. But its more than that. Children simply dont see them, though we cant understand why. We never have. But Specter-orphans are common, as you can imagine— children whose parents have been taken; they gather in bands and roam the country, and sometimes they hire themselves out to adults to look for food and supplies in a Specter-ridden area, and sometimes they simply drift about and scavenge. "So that is our world. Oh, we managed to live with this curse. Theyre true parasites: they wont kill their host, though they drain most of the life out of him. But there was a rough balance ... till recently, till the great storm. Such a storm it was! It sounded as if the whole world was breaking and cracking apart; "And then there came a fog that lasted for days and covered every part of the world that I know of, and no one could travel. And when the fog cleared, the cities were full of the Specters, hundreds and thousands of them. So we fled to the hills and out to sea, but theres no escaping them this time wherever we go. As you saw for yourself. "Now its your turn. You tell me about your world, and why you've left it to come to this one." Serafina told him truthfully as much as she knew. He was an honest man, and there was nothing that needed concealing from him. He listened closely, shaking his head with wonder, and when she had finished, he said: "I told you about the power they say our philosophers have, of opening the way to other worlds. Well, some think that occasionally they leave a doorway open, out of forgetfulness; 1 wouldn't be surprised if travelers from other worlds found their way here from time to time. We know that angels pass through, after all." "Angels?" said Serafina. "You mentioned them before. They are new to us. Can you explain them?" "You want to know about angels?" said Joachim Lorenz. "Very well. Their name for themselves is bene elim, Im told. Some call them Watchers, too. Theyre not beings of flesh like us; theyre beings of spirit. Or maybe their flesh is more finely drawn than ours, lighter and clearer, I wouldn't know; but theyre not like us. They carry messages from heaven, thats their calling. We see them sometimes in the sky, passing through this world on the way to another , shining like fireflies way, way up high. On a still night you can even hear their wingbeats. They have concerns different from ours, though in the ancient days they came down and had dealings with men and women, and they bred with us, too, some say. "And when the fog came, after the great storm, I was beset by Specters in the hills behind the city of SantElia, on my way homeward. I took refuge in a shepherds hut by a spring next to a birch wood, and all night long I heard voices above me in the fog, cries of alarm and anger, and wingbeats too, closer than Id ever heard them before; and toward dawn there was the sound of a skirmish of arms, the whoosh of arrows, and the clang of swords. I daredn't go out and see, though I was powerfully curious, for I was afraid. I was stark terrified, if you want to know. When the sky was as light as it ever got during that fog, I ventured to look out , and I saw a great figure lying wounded by the spring. I felt as if I was seeing things I had no right to see—sacred things. I had to look away, and when I looked again, the figure was gone. "Thats the closest I ever came to an angel. But as I told you, we saw them the other night, way high aloft among the stars, making for the Pole, like a fleet of mighty ships under sail.... Something is happening, and we dont know down here what it may be. There could be a war breaking out. There was a war in heaven once, oh, thousands of years ago, enormous ages back, but I dont know what the outcome was . It wouldn't be impossible if there was another. But the devastation would be enormous, and the consequences for us ... I cant imagine it. "Though," he went on, sitting up to stir the fire, "the end of it might be better than I fear. It might be that a war in heaven would sweep the Specters from this world together, and back into the pit they come from. What a blessing that would be, eh! How fresh and happy we could live, free of that fearful blight!" Though Joachim Lorenz looked anything but hopeful as he stared into the flames. The flickering light played over his face, but there was no play of expression in his strong features; he looked grim and sad. Ruta Skadi said, "The Pole, sir. You said these angels were making for the Pole. Why would they do that, do you know? Is that where heaven lies?" "I couldn't say. Im not a learned man, you can see that plain enough. But the north of our world, well, thats the abode of spirits, they say. If angels were mustering, thats where theyd go, and if they were going to make an assault on heaven, I daresay thats where theyd build their fortress and sally out from." He looked up, and the witches followed his eyes. The stars in this world were the same as theirs: the Milky Way blazed bright across the dome of the sky, and innumerable points of starlight dusted the dark, almost matching the moon for brightness.... "Sir," said Serafina, "did you ever hear of Dust?" "Dust? I guess you mean it in some other sense than the dust on the roads. No, I never did. But look! Theres a troop of angels now...." He pointed to the constellation of Ophiuchus. And sure enough, something was moving through it, a tiny cluster of lighted beings. And they didnt drift; Ruta Skadi stood up. "Sister, its time I parted from you," she said to Serafina. "Im going up to speak to these angels, whatever they may be. If theyre going to Lord Asriel, Ill go with them. If not, Ill search on by myself. Thank you for your company, and go well." They kissed, and Ruta Skadi took her cloud-pine branch and sprang into the air. Her daemon, Sergi, a bluethroat, sped out of the dark alongside her. "Were going high?" he said. "As high as those lighted fliers in Ophiuchus. They're going swiftly, Sergi. Lets catch them!" And she and her dsmon raced upward, flying quicker than sparks from a fire, the air rushing through the twigs on her branch and making her black hair stream out behind. She didnt look back at the little fire in the wide darkness, at the sleeping children and her witch companions. That part of her journey was over, and, besides, those glowing creatures ahead of her were no larger yet, and unless she kept her eye on them they were easily lost against the great expansion of starlight. So she flew on, never losing sight of the angels, and gradually as she came closer they took on a clearer shape. They shone not as if they were burning but as if, wherever they were and however dark the night, sunlight was shining on them. They were like humans, but winged, and much taller; and, as they were naked, the witch could see that three of them were male, two female. Their wings sprang from their shoulder blades, and their backs and chests were deeply muscled. Ruta Skadi stayed behind them for some way, watching, measuring their strength in case she should need to fight them. They werent armed, but on the other hand they were flying easily within their power, and might even outstrip her if it came to a chase. Making her bow ready, just in case, she sped forward and flew alongside them, calling: "Angels! Halt and listen to me! I am the witch Ruta Skadi, and I want to talk to you!" They turned. Their great wings beat inward, slowing them, and their bodies swung downward till they were standing upright in the air, holding their position by the beating of their wings. surrounded her, five huge forms glowing in the dark air, lit by an invisible sun. She looked around, sitting on her pine branch proud and unafraid, though her heart was beating with the strangeness of it, and her daemon fluttered to sit close to the warmth of her body. Each angel-being was distinctly an individual, and yet they had more in common with one another than with any human she had seen. What they shared was a shimmering, darting play of intelligence and feeling that seemed to sweep over them all simultaneously. were naked, but she felt naked in front of their glance, it was so piercing and went so deep. Still, she was unashamed of what she was, and she returned their gaze with head held high. "So you are angels," she said, "or Watchers, or bene elim. Where are you going?" "We are following a call," said one. She was not sure which one had spoken. It might have been any or all of them at once. "Whose call?" she said. "A mans." "Lord Asriels?" "It may be." "Why are you following his call?" "Because we are willing to," came the reply. "Then wherever he is, you can guide me to him as well," she ordered them. Ruta Skadi was four hundred and sixteen years old, with all the pride and knowledge of an adult witch queen. She was wiser by far than any short-lived human, but she had not the slightest idea of ​​how like a child she seemed beside these ancient beings. Nor did she know how far their awareness spread out beyond her like filamentary tentacles to the remotest corners of universes she had never dreamed of; nor that she saw them as human-formed only because her eyes expected to. Perceive their true form, they would seem more like architecture than organism, like huge structures composed of intelligence and feeling. But they expected nothing else: she was very young. At once they beat their wings and surged forward, and she darted with them, surfing on the turbulence their pinions caused in the air and relishing the speed and power it added to her flight. They flew throughout the night. The stars wheeled around them, and faded and vanished as the dawn seeped up from the east. The world burst into brilliance as the suns rim appeared, and then they were flying through blue sky and clear air, fresh and sweet and moist. In the daylight the angels were less visible, though to any eye their strangeness was clear. The light Ruta Skadi saw them by was still not that of the sun now climbing the sky, but some other light from somewhere else. Tirelessly they flew on and on, and tirelessly she kept pace. She felt a fierce joy possessing her, that she could command these immortal presences. And she rejoiced in her blood and flesh, in the rough pine bark she felt next to her skin, in the beat of her heart and the life of all her senses, and in the hunger she was feeling now, and in the presence of her sweet-voiced bluethroat daemon, and in the earth below her and the lives of every creature, plant and animal both; and she delighted in being of the same substance as them, and in knowing that when she died her flesh would nourish other lives as they had nourished her. And she rejoiced, too, that she was going to see Lord Asriel again. Another night came, and still the angels flew on. And at some point the quality of the air changed, not for the worse or the better, but changed nonetheless, and Ruta Skadi knew that they passed out of that world and into another. it had happened she couldnt guess. "Angels!" she called as she sensed the change. "How have we left the world I found you in? Where was the boundary?" "There are invisible places in the air," came the answer. "Gateways into other worlds. We can see them, but you cannot." Ruta Skadi couldn't see the invisible gateway, but she didn't need to: witches could navigate better than birds. As soon as the angel spoke, she fixed her attention on three jagged peaks below her and memorized their configuration exactly. , if she needed to, despite what the angels might think. They flew on farther, and presently she heard an angel voice: "Lord Asriel is in this world, and there is the fortress hes building...." They had slowed, and were circling like eagles in the middle airs. Ruta Skadi looked where one angel was pointing. The first faint glimmer of light was tinting the east, though all the stars above shone as brilliantly as ever against the profound velvet black of the high heavens. And on the very rim of the world, where the light was increasing moment by moment, a great mountain range reared its peaks—jagged spears of black rock, mighty broken slabs, and sawtooth ridges piled in confusion like the wreckage of a universal catastrophe. But on the highest point, which as she looked was touched by the first rays of the morning sun and outlined in brilliance, stood a regular structure: a huge fortress whose battles were formed of single slabs of basalt half a hill in height, and whose extent was to be measured in flying time. Beneath this colossal fortress, fires glazed and furnaces smoked in the darkness of early dawn, and from many miles away Ruta Skadi heard the clang of hammers and the pounding of great mills. And from every direction, she could see more flights of angels winging toward it, and not only angels, but machines too: steel-winged craft gliding like albatrosses, glass cabins under flickering dragonfly wings, droning zeppelins like huge bumblebees—all making for the Fortress mat Lord Asriel was building on the mountains at the edge of the world. "And is Lord Asriel there?" she said. "Yes, he is there," the angels replied. "Then lets fly there to meet him. And you must be my guard of honor." Obediently they spread their wings and set their course toward the gold-rimmed fortress, with the eager witch flying before them.