your own and brougraigs w happened, Lizzie.”

    “I sa....I  my dad,”

    s o cry.

    “ell, youre quite safe il or.

    “But I saing arrows!”

    “A you did. t often ense cold, Lizzie. You fall asleep and  remember rue and . t  a fig  a surprise o find you safe and sound! Noer Clara ake you along to tory tle girls and boys  in t like you. Off you go. ell tle talk in the morning.”

    Lyra stood up, clutcalaimon o o lead t.

    More corridors, and Lyra ired by noalaimon tle inside . Lyra hen she was asleep.

    Someone o feel at , and botins ill till safe; so sried to open  o was  so sleepy.

    “ake up! ake up!”

    It was a w, as if so wake up.

    In t from a very loered around   easy to see, because o focus, but t hey were speaking English.

    “Shes awake.”

    “tve...”

    “s your name?”

    “Lizzie,” Lyra mumbled.

    “Is the girls.

    “Dunno. Just me.”

    “ you then?”

    Lyra struggled to sit up. S remember taking a sleeping pill, but t  pain throbbing behind her eyes.

    “his place?”

    “Middle of noell us.”

    “t a time....”

    “ do to ask, gats as Pantalaimon stirred into h her.

    “e dunno,” said t of talking. Sall, red-cs and a strong London accent. “t of measure us and do tests and t—”

    “t,” said another girl, friendly and plump and dark-haired.

    “You dont kno girl.

    “t daemon.

    “I alking.”

    “take us as all we know. No one comes back,”

    said the r