Lord Faa. tell me to take there, and I will.”

    “Very o take o go and do as sand?”

    “Yes, Lord Faa.”

    “You go and searcever it is, and urn rigraveling on by t time, so youll o catch us up.”

    t head.

    “Are to Lyra.

    “ill I need my armor? e ser  it.” “No,” sain of t, lorek. t as you say.”

    tony Costa gave rip of dried seal meat to calaimon as a mouse inside o t bears back, gripping tens and oo trees.

    It took some time before so t, and t a er arctic cold and th.

    lorek Byrnisons paunted undra, but they were cobwebs.

    tcrops of black rock, and  of sigy beed to talk to terms  range and  s for t time in  legs sirelessly, s  and said not anytle prattling cub, only just past babyhe eyes of an armored bear.