CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TOWER OF THE ANGELS-2
Stop,quot; said tly. quot;Relax. Dont pusle knife, not a heavy sword.
Youre gripping it too tig your mind o your and to t along tly, dont force it. Just o tip, ip of t do t no, and t;
ill tried again. Lyra could see tensity in y descend over it, calming and relaxing and clarifying. ty o do range to her.
So o her lap.
tcogetopped trembling. No less intense, ly no too. Per he
blade, or per sat so naturally in ills ttle movements ip noead of random. turned t to find some little snag in ty air.
quot;s t?quot; he said hoarsely.
quot;Yes. Dont force it. Come back noo yourself.quot;
Lyra imagined so o . ood back, dropped his hand, blinked.
quot;I felt somet; o Giacomo Paradisi. quot;t slipping t first, and t it...quot;
quot;Good. No again. time, . Dont ate. Dont be surprised. Dont drop t;
ill o croucake t ent on it; ood up again after a couple of seconds, the knife held forward already.
time it once, to searc ttle snag after less te. It ely searc titc of a scalpel. oucouco make sure, and t sidehe silver edge.
It Giacomo Paradisi to be surprised. careful it doable before giving in to onis. Lyra tle room like trees: a gap in midair ther world.
And because toery, in fact, looking back toy. trees a little ance toy.
If t already seen t tical trick. Except t it only optical; air , and traffic fumes, in t-tagazze. Pantalaimon co a sing before darting back to Lyras shou