Serafina Pekkala, quot;t t is, I dont kno;

    quot;And t world does ;

    Serafina Pekkala told  ill. quot;I dont kno,quot; s;but  tells  t is ask. And, sister, ried to  ried t it didnt ent ts too  o gro;

    quot;range,quot; said Ruta Skadi. quot;o ;

    to tell trut; said Serafina Pekkala, quot;I  dared.quot;

    t quietly by tream. time  past; stars set, and otars rose; a little cry came from t it corm, and tning play over t it was a long way off.

    Later Ruta Skadi said, quot;t of t so play? Is t? Sant because so  ,  it?quot;

    quot;ts  as for later, yes, far more t.  c t s an end to destiny. ell,  er, and  t kno. tcorturing on t a Yambe-Akka came to ime.

    quot;But Im t Lyra mig you s speak of—ttr.

    Not tc t t sleeping c ty. er be so anxious to find ;

    quot;Mrs. Coulter ; said Ruta Skadi. quot;Of course, and Lyra is their child....

    Serafina Pekkala, if I  a c;

    quot;er,quot; said Serafina. quot;Listen... and  lig;

    tood, alarmed t somet t from t fireligely like firelight.

    t feet, arroo trings, and stopped suddenly.

    All tc surrounding them.

    And tood sometc ood ravel vast distances in order to be close to sometant, and ly for t of time, s presence. t iful pilgrims of rarefied liganding around ty face and tartan skirt and the wounded hand who was frowning in his sleep.

    tir at Lyras neck. Pantalaimon, a sno as a dream. Pantalaimon seemed to accept ttention as Lyras due, and presently h