Chapter 32 Thirty-two morning

morning has come, the night fades away, Sentinels leave their post... —William Blake The vast golden prairie that Lee Scoresby's ghost glimpsed through the window lay still in the first rays of the morning sun. There was gold, with yellow, brown, green, and countless shades in between; black, everywhere; A wide lake in the distance and a nearby pond reflect the vast blue of the sky. Calm, but not silent, for a gentle breeze rustled countless tiny grass roots, and countless insects and other small animals sang in the grass, except for humming and chirping; Birds flying high in the blue sky sang the falling tune of a twirly little bell, and when they were near and far away, they were never the same twice.

The only silent and still living beings in that vast landscape were the boy and the girl, sleeping back to back in the shadow of a rock outcropping atop a small cliff. They were so still, so pale, they might have died.Hunger had made the skin taut on their faces, pain had wrinkled them around their eyes, and they were covered with dust and mud and much blood, and from their absolutely sluggish limbs they appeared to be in utter fatigue. Laila woke up first.As the sun moved up into the sky and climbed over the rocks overhead to hit her hair, she began to move, and when the sun hit her eyelids, she found herself dragged out of the depths of sleep like a fish, slowly , heavy, with her own resistance.

But there is nothing to argue with the sun.Presently she moved her head, put an arm over her eyes, and murmured, "Pan—Pan..." In the shadow of her arms, she opened her eyes wide awake.She didn't move right away, because her arms and legs were so sore, and every part of her body felt limp with fatigue, but she woke up anyway, and she felt the gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun, and she heard the little the chirping of the insects and the silvery song of the bird high in the sky.Everything is so beautiful, she has forgotten how beautiful this world is. Soon she turned over and saw Will was still fast asleep.His hands were bleeding profusely, his shirt was ripped and dirty, and his hair was stiff with dust and sweat.She watched him for a long time, at the little throb of his throat, at the slow rise and fall of his chest, at the tiny shadows his eyelashes formed when the sun finally came up.

He mumbled something and moved.So that he would not see herself looking at him, she turned her head to the grave they had dug the night before, two palms wide, where the knight Thales and the lady of Salmachia lay laid to rest.There was a flat stone nearby: she got up, wrenched it out of the earth, and stood it upright on the mound, then sat up and gazed across the plain, covering her eyes with her hand.The plain stretched on seemingly endlessly, nowhere was it perfectly flat, and wherever she looked there were gentle undulations, and small ridges and valleys that varied the surface.Here and there she saw rows of very tall trees, so tall that they seemed to be built rather than grown: their straight trunks and dark green crowns seemed to ignore the distance, making people Surely it could be seen clearly from many miles away.

A little nearer—in fact, at the foot of the cliff, less than a hundred yards away—was a small pond fed by a spring that ran out of the rock.Lyra realized now how thirsty she was. She stood up with trembling legs and walked slowly towards it.The spring water flowed merrily over the mossy rocks, and she dipped her hands in the water again and again to wash off the mud and dirt, and then cupped the water to her mouth, which was so cold that her teeth ached, and she gulped happily. The pond is surrounded by aquatic plants, and a frog is croaking.When she took off her shoes and waded in, the pond was shallow and warmer than the spring.She stood there a long time, with the sun on her head and body, savoring with relish the cool mud beneath her feet and the cold spring water that ran through her calves.

She bent over and submerged her face under the water, wet her hair thoroughly, let it spread, and tossed it back behind her head, stirring with her fingers to get all the dust and grime out.When she felt a little cleaner and her thirst quenched, she looked up at the slope again, and saw Will was awake, with his arms around his knees, looking at the plain as she had just done, marveling at its vastness, Sighing the light, the warmth, the tranquility. She crawled back slowly to join him, and found that he had carved the name of the Galliferspin on the little headstone, and had inserted it more firmly into the earth.

"They're..." he said, and Lyra knew he meant elves. "I don't know. I didn't see Pam. I feel like he's around, but I don't know. Do you remember what happened?" He wiped his eyes and yawned so deeply that she could hear the crackling sound in his jaw, then he blinked and shook his head. "Don't remember much," he said, "I picked up Pantalaimon, and you picked up—the other, and here we came, and there was moonlight everywhere, and I put him down to close the window." "Your—that other elf jumped out of my arms," ​​she said, "and I was just about to take a look through the window at Mr. Scoresby and Iorek, and see where Pan went. , they weren't there when I looked around."

"Not like when we entered the world of the dead, though, not when we were truly apart." "Yes," she agreed, "they must be somewhere around, I remember we used to play hide-and-seek when we were kids, but we never succeeded because I was too big to avoid him and I always knew exactly what he was. Where to hide, even if he turns into a moth or something. But this time is weird," she said, sweeping her hands over her head involuntarily, as if trying to dispel some spell. "He's not here, but I don't feel separate from him, I feel safe and I know he does too."

"They're together, I think," Will said. "Yes, they must be together." He stood up suddenly. "Look," he said, "over there..." He was pointing with his hands covering his eyes.She followed his gaze and saw something moving in the distance, quite different from the dance of the shimmering light in the heat. "Animal?" she asked suspiciously. "Listen," he said, putting his hands behind his ears. As he pointed out, she could hear a low, constant rumbling, almost like thunder, far away. "They're gone," Will pointed.

The small moving shadow disappeared, but the rumbling continued for a while, and then suddenly became a little quieter, though already quiet.The two of them were still staring in the same direction, and after a while they saw the movement start again, and after a while, the sound came again. "They're behind a ridge or something," Will said. "Are they closer?" "Can't really see. Yes, they're turning, and look, they're coming this way." "Well, if we have to fight them, I want to drink some water first." Will said, took the rucksack to the edge of the stream, buried his head in the water, and washed away most of the dust.His wounds were bleeding profusely, he was a mess, he longed for a hot bath with lots of soap, for clean clothes.

Lyra was looking at the...something.They are weird. "Will," she called, "they're on wheels..." But she wasn't sure.He scrambled back up the slope a little and shaded his eyes to see.Now I can see each one clearly, there are more than a dozen teams or groups or gangs, they ride on wheels like Lyra said, they look like a cross between an antelope and a motorcycle, but they are even bigger than That's even stranger: they have trunks like baby elephants. They were obviously prepared, coming for Will and Lyra.Will produced the knife, but Lyra, sitting beside him on the grass, was already turning the handle of the alethiometer. It responded quickly, and those guys were still a few hundred yards away.The needle swung rapidly from side to side, and Lyra watched anxiously, because her last few readings had been so difficult, her mind feeling clumsy and faltering as she traversed the limbs of comprehension.She didn't fly from one perch to another like a bird, she was moving up and down for safety, but the meaning was there as solid as ever, and soon she knew what it was saying mean. "They're friendly," she said. "It's all right, Will, they're looking for us, they know we're here . She said the name half to herself, because she couldn't believe that Dr. Malone was in this world. However, the alethiometer clearly pointed to her, though of course it couldn't give her name, and Lyra put it aside and rose slowly to stand beside Will. "I think we should go down and meet them," she said. "They won't hurt us." Some of them had stopped and waited, and the leader stepped forward a little, nose up, and they could see how he was propelling himself forward with powerful backward strokes on the same limb.Some of the fellows had gone to the pool to drink, others waited, but not with the docile, passive curiosity of the cows gathered at the gate.They are individuals, animated by intelligence and intention.They are people. Will and Lyla walked down the ramp until they were close enough to talk to them, and Will kept his hand on the knife despite Lyla's words. "I don't know if you understand me," Lyra said cautiously, "but I know you're friendly, and I think we should—" The leader wriggled his nose and said, "Come and see Mary. You ride, we will drive, come and see Mary." "Oh!" she said, turning to Will, smiling happily. The two guys were equipped with hemp rope reins and stirrups, and no saddles, but their diamond-shaped backs proved to be comfortable enough without saddles.Lyra had ridden a bear, Will had ridden a bicycle, but neither had ridden a horse that came closest to the animal, and while the rider usually controls the horse, the kids soon discovered they were not: bridle and stirrups Just give them something to grab and hold and those guys make all the decisions themselves. "Where—" Will started, but had to pause to regain his balance as the guy moved under him. They turned and walked down the small slope, slowly across the grass.The movements were jerky, but not uncomfortable, because those guys had no spines: Will and Lyra felt like they were sitting in nicely bouncy chairs. Presently they came to what they could not see clearly from the cliff: it was a black or dark brown land.They were surprised to find that the smooth rocky road laces through the prairie, just as Mary had seen it not so long ago. The guys rolled onto the road and started off, picking up speed quickly.The road is more like a waterway than a highway, for in places it becomes broad like a small lake, and sometimes it breaks off into narrow lanes which join unexpectedly.It's not like the very rational roads in Will's world—through hillsides and concrete bridges across valleys.It's part of the landscape, not imposed on it. They went faster and faster, and it took Will and Lyra a while to get used to the active stimulation of the muscles and the thrilling thunder of the hard wheels hitting the hard stone.Lyra found it harder than Will at first because she had never ridden a bike before and she didn't know the technique of leaning to one side, but she saw how he did it and soon found the speed exciting. The noise of the wheels was too great for them to talk to, and they had to communicate by gestures: pointing to the trees, marveling at how big and magnificent they were; giving them a distorted look as they fly through the air; a fat blue lizard about the size of a horse was lying in the middle of the road basking in the sun (the wheeled animals rode on either side of it, it didn't even notice ). The sun was high in the sky when they started to slow down.Yes, the air smells of sea salt. The road was ascending to a precipice, and before long they were moving as fast as a walk. Lyra was stiff, her bones ached, and she said, "Can you stop? I want to get down and walk." The guy she was riding felt the tug of the reins and, wondering if he understood what she was saying, he stopped.Will's stopped too, and both children climbed down to find themselves stiff and nearly falling apart from the constant jolting and tension. The guys turned and talked together, their noses moving gracefully to the sounds they made. A minute later they were on their way, Will and Lyra were happy among the animals that smelled of hay and the warmth of the grass, the animals were rolling around, and one or two had reached the top of the slope ahead, the child Now that they no longer have to concentrate on their grip, they can watch how they move and appreciate the grace and strength with which they thrust themselves forward, lean and turn. At the top of the hill they stopped, and Will and Lyra heard the leader say, "Mary's around, Mary's over there." They looked down, and there was the blue gleam of the sea on the horizon.In the middle there is a wide, slow-flowing river meandering through fertile meadows.At the foot of the long hillside, among the saplings and rows of vegetables in the miscellaneous forest, stands a village of thatched huts.More animals like them moved between the houses, or tended the crops, or walked among the trees. "Now ride up again." The leader said. There was not much to go before Will and Lyra climbed up again, the other animals watching carefully as they balanced and snouted their stirrups, as if to make sure they were safe. Then they set off, pounding the road with their same limbs, and sprinting down the hill with frightening speed.Will and Lyra hugged on their arms and knees, feeling the air whip against their faces, push their hair back, press down on their eyeballs.The roar of the wheels, the back leap of the grass on either side, that firm and powerful lean toward the wide bend ahead, the keen ecstasy of speed—those animals loved it.Feeling their joy, Will and Lyra laughed happily back. They stopped in the middle of the village, and saw the other animals they had come gather round, and raised their noses in greeting. Then Lyra called, "Dr. Malone!" Mary came out of a thatched cottage, her faded blue shirt, her stocky figure, her warm red cheeks both strange and familiar. Lyra ran to hug her, and Mary hugged her tightly.Will stands back, wary and skeptical. Mary kissed Lila passionately, then stepped forward to welcome Will.What follows is a small mental battle of sympathy and embarrassment that lasts for a second or fraction of a second. Out of sympathy for their situation, Mary at first wanted to hug not only Lyra but Will, but Mary was a grown-up and Will was almost a grown-up, and she could see that that reaction would turn him into a child, because although She might hug a child, but she would never hug a man she didn't know, so she withdrew mentally and wanted to respect Lyra's friend without embarrassing him. So she just held out her hand, and he shook it, and an electric current of understanding and respect passed between them so strongly, it immediately turned into affection, and both of them felt like they had found a lifelong friend, and they did. "This is Will," Lyra said. "He's from your world—remember, I told you about him—" "I'm Mary Malone," she said. "You two are hungry. You look starving." She turned to the animal beside her, making some sort of singing and purring noises, and moving her arms as she spoke. The animal went away at once, and some of them brought cushions and rugs from neighboring houses and spread them on firm ground under a nearby tree, whose thick leaves and low-hanging branches formed a cool and fragrant shade. As soon as they were comfortable, the master brought wooden bowls full of milk, which exuded a faint astringency of lemon, which was wonderfully refreshing, and had small nuts like hazelnuts, but with a thicker cream. Taste, and a salad of plucked vegetables from the ground, the spicy leaves are tossed with thick leaves that are soft and creamy, and the tiny cherry-sized roots taste like sweet carrots. But they can't eat much, it's too oily.They were so generous that Will didn't want to flatter them, but aside from drinks, all he could swallow were some slightly burnt flatbreads like pancakes or tortillas.Simple and nutritious, it was the only bread Will could eat.Lyra tried a little of everything, but like Will she soon found that a little was perfectly enough. Mary tried not to ask any questions, and they both had a past that had marked them: they didn't want to talk about it yet. So she answered their questions about Mulfa, told them briefly how she came into this world, and walked away, leaving them in the shade of a tree, as she saw their eyelids droop, their Nodding his head once and for all. "You don't have to do anything now but sleep," she said. The afternoon air was warm and serene, the shade hypnotic, the crickets chirping all around, and Will and Lyra fell asleep within five minutes of taking their last sip of drink. Are they two genders?Atal said in surprise, but how can you tell the difference? It's easy, says Mary, they have different shapes and walk differently. They are not much younger than you, but they are less Slavic, when will that come to them? I don't know, said Mary, I suppose soon enough, I don't know when it came to us. There are no wheels.Atal said sympathetically. They weeded the vegetable garden, Marie made a hoe to keep her from stooping, and Atal worked with her nose, so their conversation was broken. But you know they're coming. Yes. Are those sticks telling you? no.said Mary, blushing.She was a scientist and had to admit that looking up was bad enough, but this was even more embarrassing.It was a nighttime scene, she admitted. You don't like the sight of the night, Attar said. No, I do, but I don't believe them until now, I see the boy and the girl clearly, a voice telling me to prepare for them. What's the sound like?How can it talk if you can't see it? Atal couldn't imagine movement without a nose. How could he explain this problem clearly and give it a definition? She stopped in the middle of a row of beans and looked at Mary with great curiosity. Well, I did see it, and it was a woman, or a wise woman, like us, like people from Minecraft, but very old and not old at all. The Wise One was what Murfa called their leader, and she saw that Atal was very interested. How could she be both old and not old?Attar said. It's a rhetorical approach, Mary said. Atal flicked his nose to dispel his doubts. Mary went on as best she could: She told me I should expect the children, and when and where they would appear, but not why, I just had to find them.They were wounded and tired, Attar said, would they stop the Slavs from leaving? Mary looked up uneasily, without having to look through that telescope to know that the shadow particles were flowing away faster than ever. I hope so, she said, but I don't know how to stop it. Night had just fallen, when the cooking fire was kindled, the first stars appeared, and a company of strangers arrived. Mary was washing, when she heard the thunder of their wheels and their excited conversation, and hurried from the house, drying herself. Will and Lyra, who had slept all afternoon, awoke to the sound.Lyra sat up staggeringly and saw Mary talking to half a dozen Mulfas, who were surrounding her, obviously agitated, but whether they were angry or happy she couldn't tell. Mary saw her and got away. "Laila," she said, "there's a thing that happened—they found something they couldn't explain, and it was... I don't know what it was... I've got to check it out, for an hour or so I’ll be back as soon as possible, and you can take whatever you need from my room—I have to go. They’re in a hurry—" "Okay," Lyra said, still dazed from too much sleep. Mary glanced under the tree where Will was rubbing his eyes. "I really won't be going for long," she said, "Attar will stay with you." The leader grew impatient, and Mary quickly put her reins and stirrups on his back, apologized for her clumsiness, and climbed up immediately.They slid their wheels, turned and drove into the darkness. They set off in a new direction, north along the ridge above the coast.Mary had never ridden Mulfa at night before, and she found the speeds even more terrifying than in the daytime.As they climbed, Mary could see the moon shining on the far sea to the left, its silvery-brown light seeming to wrap her in cool, wondering wonder.Wonder is in her heart, doubt is in the world, calm is in both. She looked up now and then, and touched the telescope in her pocket, but she couldn't use it until they stopped.These Murfas were hurrying on, looking as if they didn't want to stop for anything.After an hour's arduous march, they turned inland, off the stone road, and walked slowly along a trodden dirt path, through knee-deep grass, past a row of wheel trees, and up toward a ridge advance.The landscape is shining under the moon: wide bare hillsides, here and there there are small valleys, and in the valleys, streams gurgle between the trees clustered there. They were leading her into such a valley, and as soon as they left the road she came down and kept pace with them, walking steadily across the brow and into the valley. She heard the gurgling of the spring water, and the night wind in the grass, she heard the silent grinding of the wheels on the solid ground, she heard the murmurs ahead of them whispering to each other, and then they stopped. On the hillside only a few yards away there is a knife-knife cut like a hole, and because the moonlight shines in for a distance, it seems that the side of the cut is also inside the mountain: but it is not.Out of it is coming out a team of ghosts. Marie felt as if the ground were collapsing in her mind, and with a start, she grabbed the nearest branch to confirm that this was still a physical world, and she was still a part of it. She moves closer.Old people, children, babies still in their arms, humans and other creatures, denser and denser, they come out of the darkness into the actual world of moonlight - and disappear. That's the weirdest thing.They took a few steps in a world of grass and air and silvery moonlight, looked around, their faces transfigured with joy—a joy Mary had never seen before—stretching out their arms as if to embrace the universe, and, As if they were made of smoke or mist, they just drifted away, part of the earth and the dew and the night wind. Some came towards Mary, as if to tell her something, held out their hands, and she felt their contact like a slight chill, and a ghost—an old woman—was beckoning her away. close. Then she spoke, and Mary heard her say, "Tell them stories. We didn't know this before. For so long, we never knew, but they need the truth, and it's the truth that nourishes them. You have to tell them True stories, everything will be fine, everything. Just tell them the story." That's all she said, and then disappeared.This moment is like we suddenly remember a dream that we have somehow forgotten, and all the emotions felt in the dream suddenly flood back. This is the dream she described to Attar, but just as Marie tried to find it again. At that moment, it dissolved and drifted away, just like these people in the free air.That dream disappeared. All that remains is the sweetness of that feeling, and the command to tell their stories. She looked into the darkness, and in that endless silence all she could see were more ghosts coming, thousands, like refugees returning to their homeland. "Tell them stories," she said to herself.