....

    “as she on her own?”

    A man o the ceiling space.

    “Seems to be on her own....”

    “ho is she?”

    “the new child.”

    “ters...”

    “Yes.”

    “You dont suppose she daemons...”

    “Could  not on her own, surely?”

    “Sell—”

    “I t  t you?”

    “I agree. Better s  all.”

    “But  this?”

    “S go back her children.”

    “Impossible!”

    “t seems to me.”

    “Now?”

    “o. Cant leave it till ts to ch.”

    “e could do it ourselves. No need to involve anyone else.”

    to be in c alaimon, tapped eetill; ted t. Finally he nodded.

    “No no t, at least. S remember w s she heard....Come on.”

    Lyra couldnt speak. So let ation, along y corridors, past rooms  tories calaimon, and  eacher.

    tly lit ce tiles and stainless steel. t  a p oe them forever and ever.

    S last, and screamed. t t; s a sound would escape.

    But Pantalaimon, in ansed free of teful ore at talons, great  —darting, snarling, slasransformations too quick to register, and all time leaping, flying, dodging from one spot to anotc ty air.

    But too, of course. It  t t  six. A badger, an o as intent to pin Pantalaimon doo this?

    be hem!”

    And s more passionately til t go for a moment—and salaimon sprang too ab of pain o her.

    “Never! Never! Never!” s to defend o th.

    But tal men, and serrified; and tore Pantalaimon ao one side of truggling still, around to ther.

    t ill part of ill