PART THREE SVALBARD EIGHTEEN - FOG AND ICE-2
f and peered out.
Ss hs.
tant cries of ts, he crash of waves on rocks, some way off.
“lorek!” s and sried again, but no one answered. “Roger!” s.
S of course salaimon crept out of o keep her company.
“Ive cer,” s all righings broken.”
“ere lost, Pan!” ss? And Mr. Scoresby sing em? God hey come down here....”
“e better try and find t,” he said, “maybe.”
“e better not call out,” s no maybe I better not in case they hear us. I wish I knew where we were.”
“e mig like it if . “e mig ttom of a cliff s at top to see us whe fog clears.”
S around, once sed a fees, and found t so one side t fifty yards off, by t, and from ill came ts, t seemed to be abating a little. Salaimons owl eyes were helpless.
Stle, and found not rock and snos.
“t vanished,” she whispered.
Pantalaimon pro-formed, a little farttered sand already freezing hard.
“Ballast,” Lyra said. “ve slung em off to fly up again....”
So subdue t, or t, or both.
“Oened,” sheyre safe.”
o into be seen. Surned to see was.
“lorek!”
But s lorek Byrnison at all. It range bear, clad in polis frozen into frost, and .
ood still, about six feet away, and s she really was finished.
tirred more s of tood still, clenctle s.
t move until t one said, “Your name?”
“Lyra.”
“here have you come from?”
“the sky.”
“In a balloon?”
“Yes.”
“Come h us. Yo