Chapter 26 CHAPTER THIRTEEN: AESAHAETTR-2

And what was worse, it had begun to bleed again. When Serafina looked at it, she put more herbs on the wound, and tied the silk tighter than ever, but this time her face was troubled. He didnt want to question her, for what would be the point? It was plain to him that the spell hadnt worked, and he could see she knew it too. As darkness fell, he heard Lyra come to lie down close by, and presently he heard a soft purring. Her daemon, cat-formed, was dozing with folded paws only a foot or two away from him, and Will whispered, "Pantalaimon?" The daemons eyes opened. Lyra didnt stir. Pantalaimon whispered, "Yes?"

"Pan, am I going to die?" "The witches won't let you die. Nor will Lyra." "But the spell didnt work. I keep losing blood. I cant have much left to lose. And its bleeding again, and it wont stop. Im frightened...." "Lyra doesn't think you are." "Doesn't she?" "She thinks you the bravest fighter she ever saw, as brave as lorek Byrnison." "I suppose I better try not to seem frightened, then," Will said. He was quiet for a minute or so, and then he said, "I think Lyras braver than me. I think shes the best friend I ever had."

"She thinks that about you as well," whispered the daemon. Presently Will closed his eyes. Lyra lay unmoving, but her eyes were wide open in the dark, and her heart was beating hard. When Will next became aware of things, it was completely dark, and his hand was hurting more than ever. He sat up carefully and saw a fire burning not far away, where Lyra was trying to toast some bread on a forked stick. There were A couple of birds roasting on a spit as well, and as Will came to sit nearby, Serafina Pekkala flew down. "Will," she said, "eat these leaves before you have any other food."

She gave him a handful of soft bitter-tasting leaves somewhat like sage, and he chewed them silently and forced them down. They were astringent, but he felt more awake and less cold, and the better for it. They ate the roasted birds, seasoning them with lemon juice, and then another witch brought some blueberries shed found below the scree, and then the witches gathered around the fire. They talked quietly; some of them had flown high up to spy, and one had seen a balloon over the sea. Lyra sat up at once. "Mr. Scoresby's balloon?" she said. "There were two men in it, but it was too far away to see who they were. A storm was gathering behind them."

Lyra clapped her hands. "If Mr. Scoresbys coming," she said, "well be able to fly, Will! Oh, I hope its him! I never said good-bye to him, and he was so kind. I wish I could see him again, I really do...." The witch Juta Kamainen was listening, with her red-breasted robin daemon bright-eyed on her shoulder, because the mention of Lee Scoresby had reminded her of the quest hed set out on. She was the witch who had loved Stanislaus Grumman and whose love hed turned down, the witch Serafina Pekkala had brought into this world to prevent her from killing him in their own.

Serafina might have noticed, but something else happened: she held up her hand and lifted her head, as did all the other witches. Will and Lyra could hear very faintly to the north the cry of some night bird. But it wasn't a bird; the witches knew it at once for a daemon. Serafina Pekkala stood up, gazing intently into the sky. "I think its Ruta Skadi," she said. They kept still, tilting their heads to the wide silence, straining to hear. And then came another cry, closer already, and then a third; and at that, all the witches seized their branches and leaped into the air. All but two, that is, who stood close by, arrows at their bowstrings, guarding Will and Lyra.

Somewhere in the dark above, a fight was taking place. And only seconds later, it seemed, they could hear the rush of flight, the whiz of arrows, and the grunt and scream of voices raised in pain or anger or command. And then with a thud so sudden they had no time to jump, a creature fell from the sky at their feet —a beast of leathery skin and matted fur that Lyra recognized as a cliff-ghast, or something similar. It was broken by the fall, and an arrow protruded from its side, but still it lurched up and lunged with a flopping malice at Lyra. The witches couldn't shoot, because she was in their line of fire, but Will was there first; with the knife he slashed backhand, and the creatures head came off and rolled over once or twice. The air left its lungs with a gurgling sigh, and it fell dead.

They turned their eyes upward again, for the fight was coming lower, and the firelight glaring up showed a swift-rushing swirl of black silk, pale limbs, green pine needles, gray-brown scabby leather. How the witches could keep their balance in The sudden turns and halts and forward darts, let alone aim and shoot, was beyond Wills understanding. Another cliff-ghast and then a third fell in the stream or on the rocks nearby, stark dead; and then the rest fled, skirling and cluttering into the dark toward the north. A few moments later Serafina Pekkala landed with her own witches and with another: a beautiful witch, fierce-eyed and black-haired, whose cheeks were flushed with anger and excitement.

The new witch saw the headless cliff-ghast and spat. "Not from our world," she said, "nor from this. Filthy abominations. There are thousands of them, breeding like flies.... Who is this? Is this the child Lyra? And who is the boy?" Lyra returned her gaze stolidly, though she felt a quickening of her heart, for Ruta Skadi lived so brilliantly in her nerves that she set up a responding thrill in the nerves of anyone close by. Then the witch turned to Will, and he felt the same tingle of intensity, but like Lyra he controlled his expression. He still had the knife in his hand, and she saw what hed done with it and smiled.

He thrust it into the earth to clean it of the foul things blood and then rinsed it in the stream. Ruta Skadi was saying, "Serafina Pekkala, I am learning so much; all the old things are changing, or dying, or empty. Im hungry...." She ate like an animal, tearing at the remains of the roasted birds and cramming handfuls of bread into her mouth, washing it down with deep gulps from the stream. While she ate, some of the witches carried the dead cliff-ghast away, rebuilt the fire, and then set up a watch. The rest came to sit near Ruta Skadi to hear what she could tell them. She told what had happened when she flew up to meet the angels, and then of her journey to Lord Asriels fortress.

"Sisters, it is the greatest castle you can imagine: ramparts of basalt, rearing to the skies, with wide roads coming from every direction, and on them cargoes of gunpowder, of food, of armor plate. How has he done this? I think he must have been preparing this for a long time, for eons. He was preparing this before we were born, sisters, even though he is so much younger.... But how can that be? .I think he commands time, he makes it run fast or slow according to his will. "And coming to this fortress are warriors of every kind, from every world. Men and women, yes, and fighting spirits, too, and armed creatures such as I had never seen—lizards and apes, great birds with poison spurs, creatures too outlandish to have a name I could guess at. And other worlds have witches, sisters; did you know that? I spoke to witches from a world like ours, but profoundly different, for those witches live no longer than our short-lifes, and there are men among them, too, men-witches who fly as we do...." Her tale was causing the witches of Serafina Pekkalas clan to listen with awe and fear and disbelief. But Serafina believed her, and urged her on. "Did you see Lord Asriel, Ruta Skadi? Did you find your way to him?" "Yes, I did, and it was not easy, because he lives at the center of so many circles of activity, and he directs them all. But I made myself invisible and found my way to his inmost chamber, when he was preparing to sleep." Every witch there knew what had happened next, and neither Will nor Lyra dreamed of it. So Ruta Skadi had no need to tell, and she went on: "And then I asked him why he was bringing all these forces together, and if it was true what wed heard about his challenge to the Authority, and he laughed. "Do they speak of it in Siberia, then? he said, and I told him yes, and on Svalbard, and in every region of the north— our north; and I told him of our pact, and how Id left our world to seek him and find out. "And he invited us to join him, sisters. To join his army against the Authority. I wished with all my heart I could pledge us there and then. He showed me that to rebel was right and just, when you considered what the agents of the Authority did in His name. . . . And I thought of the Bolvangar children, and the other terrible mutations I have seen in our own southlands; and he told me of many more hideous cruelties dealt out in the Authoritys name—of how they capture witches, in some worlds, and burn them alive, sisters. Yes, witches like ourselves... "He opened my eyes. He showed me things I had never seen, cruelties and horrors all committed in the name of the Authority, all designed to destroy the joys and the truthfulness of life. "Oh, sisters, I longed to throw myself and my whole clan into the cause! But I knew I must consult you first, and then fly back to our world and talk to leva Kasku and Reina Miti and the other witch queens. "So I left his chamber invisible and found my cloud-pine and flew away. But before Id flown far, a great wind came up and hurled me high into the mountains, and I had to take refuge on a clifftop. Knowing the sort of creatures who live on cliffs, I made myself invisible again, and in the darkness I heard voices. "It seemed that Id stumbled on the nesting place of the oldest of all cliff-ghasts. He was blind, and they were bringing him food: some stinking carrion from far below. And they were asking him for guidance. " Grandfather, they said, how far back does your memory go? " Way, way back. Back long before humans, he said, and his voice was soft and cracked and frail. " Is it true that the greatest battle ever known is coming soon, Grandfather? " Yes, children, he said. A greater battle than the last one, even. Fine feasting for all of us. These will be days of pleasure and plenty for every ghast in every world. " And who's going to win, Grandfather? Is Lord Asriel going to defeat the Authority? "Lord Asriels army numbers millions, the old cliff-ghast told them, assembled from every world. Its a greater army than the one that fought the Authority before, and its better led. As for the forces of the Authority, why, they number a hundred times as many. But the Authority is age-old, far older even than me, children, and His troops are frightened, and complain where they are not frightened. It would be a close fight, but Lord Asriel would win, because he is passionate and daring and he believes his cause is just. Except for one thing, children. hasn't got Aesahaettr. Without Aesahaettr, he and all his forces will go down to defeat. And then we shall feast for years, my children! "And he laughed and gnawed the stinking old bone theyd brought to him, and the others all shrieked with glee. "Now, you can imagine how I listened hard to hear more about this Aesahaettr, but all I could hear over the howling of the wind was a young ghast asking, If Lord Asriel needs Aesahasttr, why doesn't he call him? "And the old ghast said, Lord Asriel knows no more about Aesahaettr than you do, child! That is the joke! Laugh long and loud— "But as I tried to get closer to the foul things to learn more, my power failed, sisters, I couldn't hold myself invisible any longer. The younger ones saw me and shrieked out, and I had to flee, back into this world through the invisible gateway in the air. A flock of them came after me, and those are the last of them, dead over there. "But its clear that Lord Asriel needs us, sisters. Whoever this yEsahasttr is, Lord Asriel needs us! I wish I could go back to Lord Asriel now and say, Dont be anxious—were coming—we the witches of the north, and we shall help you win. ... Lets agree now, Serafina Pekkala, and call a great council of all the witches, every single clan, and make war!" Serafina Pekkala looked at Will, and it seemed to him that she was asking his permission for something. But he could give no guidance, and she looked back at Ruta Skadi. "Not us," she said. "Our task now is to help Lyra, and her task is to guide Will to his father. You should fly back, agreed, but we must stay with Lyra." Ruta Skadi tossed her head impatiently. "Well, if you must," she said. Will lay down, because his wound was hurting him—much more now than when it was fresh. His whole hand was swollen. Lyra too lay down, with Pantalaimon curled at her neck, and watched the fire through half-closed lids, and listened sleepily to the murmur of the witches. Ruta Skadi walked a little way upstream, and Serafina Pekkala went with her. "Ah, Serafina Pekkala, you should see Lord Asriel," said the Latvian queen quietly. "He is the greatest commander there ever was. Every detail of his forces is clear in his mind, imagine the daring of it, to make war on the Creator! But who do you think this Aesahaettr can be? How have we not heard of him? And how can we urge him to join Lord Asriel?" "Maybe its not a him, sister. We know as little as the young cliff-ghast. Maybe the old grandfather was laughing at his ignorance. The word sounds as if it means god destroyer. Did you know that?" "Then it might mean us after all, Serafina Pekkala! And if it does, then how much stronger his forces will be when we join them. Ah, I long for my arrows to kill those fiends from Bolvangar, and every Bolvangar in every world ! Sister, why do they do it? In every world, the agents of the Authority are sacrificing children to their cruel god! Why? Why?" "They are afraid of Dust," said Serafina Pekkala, "though what that is, I dont know." "And this boy you've found. Who is he? What world does he come from?" Serafina Pekkala told her all she knew about Will. "I dont know why hes important," she finished, "but we serve Lyra. And her instrument tells her that that is her task. And, sister, we tried to heal his wound, but we failed. We tried the holding spell, but it didnt work. Maybe the herbs in this world are less potent than ours. Its too hot here for bloodmoss to grow." "Hes strange," said Ruta Skadi. "He is the same kind as Lord Asriel. Have you looked into his eyes?" To tell the truth," said Serafina Pekkala, "I havent dared." The two queens sat quietly by the stream. Time went past; stars set, and other stars rose; a little cry came from the sleepers, but it was only Lyra dreaming. The witches heard the rumbling of a storm, and they saw the lightning play over the sea and the foothills, but it was a long way off. Later Ruta Skadi said, "The girl Lyra. What of the part she was supposed to play? Is this it? Shes important because she can lead the boy to his father? It was more than that, wasn't it?" "Thats what she has to do now. But as for later, yes, far more than that. What we witches have said about the child is that she would put an end to destiny. Well, we know the name that would make her meaningful to Mrs. Coulter, and we know that the woman doesnt know it. The witch she was torturing on the ship near Svalbard nearly gave it away, but Yambe-Akka came to her in time. "But Im thinking now that Lyra might be what you heard those ghasts speak of—this ^ Aesahaettr. Not the witches, not those angel-beings, but that sleeping child: the final weapon in the war against the Authority. Why else would Mrs. Coulter be so anxious to find her?" "Mrs. Coulter was a lover of Lord Asriels," said Ruta Skadi. "Of course, and Lyra is their child.... Serafina Pekkala, if I had borne his child, what a witch she would be! A queen of queens!" "Hush, sister," said Serafina. "Listen... and whats that light?" They stood, alarmed that something had slipped past their guard, and saw a gleam of light from the camping place; not firelight, though, nothing remotely like firelight. They ran back on silent feet, arrows already nocked to their bowstrings, and stopped suddenly. All the witches were asleep on the grass, and so were Will and Lyra. But surrounding the two children were a dozen or more angels, gazing down at them. And then Serafina understood something for which the witches had no word: it was the idea of ​​pilgrimage. She understood why these beings would wait for thousands of years and travel vast distances in order to be close to something important, and how they would feel differently for the rest of time, having been briefly in its presence. That was how these creatures looked now, these beautiful pilgrims of rarefied light, standing around the girl with the dirty face and the tartan skirt and the boy with the wounded hand who was frowning in his sleep. There was a stir at Lyras neck. Pantalaimon, a snow-white ermine, opened his black eyes sleepily and gazed around unafraid. Later, Lyra would remember it as a dream. Pantalaimon seemed to accept the attention as Lyras due, and presently he curled up again and closed his eyes. Finally one of the creatures spread his wings wide. The others, as close as they were, did so too, and their wings interpenetrated with no resistance, sweeping through one another like light through light, until there was a circle of radiance around the sleepers on the grass. Then the watchers took to the air, one after another, rising like flames into the sky and increasing in size as they did so, until they were enormous; but already they were far away, moving like shooting stars toward the north. Serafina and Ruta Skadi sprang to their pine branches and followed them upward, but they were left far behind. "Were they hiked the creatures you saw, Ruta Skadi?" said Serafina as they slowed down in the middle airs, watching the bright flames diminish toward the horizon. "Bigger, I think, but the same kind. They have no flesh, did you see that? All they are is light. Their senses must be so different from ours.... Serafina Pekkala, Im leaving you now, to call all the witches of our north together. When we meet again, it will be wartime. Go well, my dear..." They embraced in midair, and Ruta Skadi turned and sped southward. Serafina watched her go, and then turned to see the last of the gleaming angels disappear far away. She felt nothing but compassion for those great watchers. How much they must miss, never to feel the earth beneath their feet, or the wind in their hair, or the tingle of the starlight on their bare skin! And she snapped a little twig off the pine branch she flew with, and sniffed the sharp resin smell with greedy pleasure, before flying slowly down to join the sleepers on the grass.