AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have read the Golden Compass and the Subtle Knife – and I've only just started the Amber Spyglass – please be aware that I know some of the things in here because I peaked at the back of the Amber Spyglass (I'm horrible and not skipping to the end, but the great thing is that Phillip Pullman makes it hard to understand what's going on if you skip to the end, but it was easy to pick up to the links about Will and Lyra's relationship.) I DO NOT OWN, WILL, LYRA, PAN, KIRJAVA, AND THE MASTER OF JORDAN COLLEGE.

THE LYRA AND WILL STORY

CHAPTER I,

THE GLASS BLADE

William Parry sat on his bed, fiddling with his collar.

He looked up into the mirror. His dark brown hair was neatly combed – and he was even wearing his best clothes. He shook his head in frustration.

It was all wrong – why was he looking like this? Like a rich child – going to an adult ball, where he was expected to make polite small talk, and sip on water?

He angrily messed up his hair, and when he looked at himself again, he felt almost content. He stepped outside onto his balcony, to feel the temperature of the air. It was quite cold, which was odd, as it was only five to twelve on a midsummer's day.

He turned round and picked up his jacket, strewn randomly on the floor. Just then his door opened, and in came Kirjava. He smiled at her. Kirjava was a cat – but not just any cat. She was Will's daemon. Will had discovered her in Lyra's world – he stopped. It was painful to think about her.

Kirjava was his soul, in a sense. Her beautiful blue black and blue coat gleamed. She looked at him for a moment.

"Something's not quite right," she said. She padded over, and lifting up her paws, smeared Will's clothes with mud. She studied him.

"Better," she said. "Could use some snow – but it's the middle of summer. Come on, let's go."

"Kirjava" Will hesitated. "Do you ever feel like Pan is there?"

Kirjava looked at her. Will was referring to Lyra's daemon. Who shared the same type of relationship with Kirjava as Lyra shared with Will.

"I always do, Will" her short reply was.

He couldn't decide on her tone, so he left his room, following her down the stairs and out the front door. They walked the annual walk towards the park. They made their way onto the small pathway, now surrounded by blooming with white roses. He paused, and a puzzled expression fixed on his face. First, it was cold in midsummer, second, white roses?

He spun round at the feeling of prying eyes at his back. But there was no one there. He quickened his pace, nearly running towards the bench. He was out of breath when he got there. He collapsed on the bench. Kirjava jumped onto his lap and he gently scratched her neck.

"Is he here?" he asked.

"You can't sense Lyra?" she squinted at him.

"I couldn't sense someone if they were sneaking up on me, but you could" he replied.

"Yes…they are there."

He sighed and reached out his hand as he always did. It made him feel like he could be touching her hand.

He sighed and bent his head. As he did, he caught a glint of gold from the grass. He straightened.

He began to stand up, but Kirjava stopped him.

"I'll get it," she said. She padded off. She stopped just where Will had seen the glint. She looked at him, and her puzzlement reflected in side will.

She picked it up, and half carrying it, half dragging it, she came over to him. She reared up and threw it to him. He caught the golden object and held it out. Kirjava climbed up next to him. He looked it at.

It was a round circle, like a dish. It was heavy, and Will realized it must be made of real gold. There was a sort of spike in the middle, supported on a bronze plate. Through four holes in the bronze plate, Will could see thousands upon thousands of cogs and dials.

"Will!" Kirjava's tone was urgent. He looked at her. "Dust! It's a Dust device! Like the Alethiometre or the Subtle Knife!"

"That's impossible – there's only dust in the land of the dead, there would be no way for this machine to be powered, and the only gate is from the land of the living to the dead-" he froze.

"Will! The graveyard!" Kirjava said.

She was referring to the recent cemetery that had opened up, not far from here. A sudden wash of fear covered Will. He threw the device away, and it went tumbling towards the bench. The spike hit the wood, and it went straight through it, and the green iron supporting it. He stopped, and he looked in awe at the perfect cut. He bent down and picked up the device. It didn't have a scratch on it. His two severed fingers tingled.

"Kirjava – it's…" he couldn't finish his sentence.

"It's got the pieces from the Subtle Knife, hasn't it, Will?" she said in a small voice.

"Kirjava…you know what we could do with this? I could still operate this, we could-"

"No, will, no!" Kirjava said, knowing what he was going to say. "We would release Spectres…Will, they'd…they'd eat me, Will."

He looked at her in surprise. She had a pleading look in her eyes, and he felt the farthest from her he ever had.

"Kirjava – we have to" he whispered. "We have to see them."

"Will – please, I'm scared."

But his mind was already in focus with the blade, and he was raising his arms to the air. She ran and seated herself on his foot, snuggling up to him. Then, the blade found a cutting point, and Will plunged it forward. Two rings rose off the side of the device, and started spinning dramatically around the point. Will squinted and he realized he could actually see the Dust pouring off it.

Then, he was bringing it through the air. It cut through like butter, and suddenly, he could see tall, old stone buildings, and beautifully cobbled roads. Neatly trimmed plants sat in quartz pots, and Will realized he was looking at Jordan College.

He stepped through, and for a moment he wasn't conscious of anything except himself and Kirjava, who had climbed onto his shoulder. He deftly kept walking; an old, gold energy that swirled everywhere surrounded him.

Then suddenly, he was free. He and Kirjava were pushed forward, and he struggled to a standstill. He stopped, and looked around him. To his dismay, he saw the bench empty.

"Lyra…" he said it out loud and louder then he'd intended.

"WILL!"

He spun round, and saw an awe-struck Lyra standing with Pantalaimon, her red pine-marten daemon in her arms.

"Will!" she repeated, and ran towards him. Will ran towards her and the two embraced each other. Will kissed her tenderly, an intense feeling of love spreading through him. He smelled once again her treacle hair, and felt the tender softness of her skin.

"Oh my god Will," she said, burying her head in his chest. "How did you get through?"

"Never mind that," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm so happy to see you again."

He kissed her face several times again, and held it in between his hands, so he could look at her face clearly. She smiled at him, and hugged him once again. He realized he was taller than her now, the top of her head only reaching the base of his neck.

She pulled away and said, "So how did you get here?"

He held out the device, which was still glowing and gave it to her. She turned it over in her hands.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I found it in the park - but Lyra, that point is made of the subtle knife's point. I'm sure of it, I felt it."

"But Will – if this made a window then…what about the Spectres?" her voice became urgent.

He spun round, and ran towards the window. He reached for the corner of it, and pinched it. The door vanished, and he walked back to Lyra.

"It's okay now," he said. "And besides, there's something different about this. You know, I think the Spectres were summoned because of the hilt of the knife – the design. One side of the hilt was an angel with spread out wings. The other was an angel with closed wings – kind of like a Spectre."

"Maybe, I just hope that there is no Spectre" she said quietly. Suddenly her eyes widened at the sound of footsteps, but Will also picked up on a small 'clink', 'clink'. Like the sound of metal studs hitting the ground.

"Will there's something else I need to tell you-" Lyra started, and then stopped. "Will – kiss me, now!"

Will looked at her in surprise.

"Will!" she said urgently. "Do it!"

Will drew up to her and kissed her, just as a boy about their age, dressed in long red robes. He froze in surprise, his daemon, Harka, changed from a squirrel to a tiger cub that bared its teeth at the couple's daemons.

"Lyra!" he shouted.

The two broke apart, and Will faced the boy. He was smaller then Will, but he looked like he could put up a fight. His face seethed. The tiger cub tried to roar, but a mere squeak came out of its mouth. Will smiled: the boy was angry, furious in fact, but he was also scared.

"Lyra – who is this?" his voice was shaky.

"Hello Thomas" Will saw a triumphant look on her face. "This is Will."

Thomas froze and cast a horrifying gaze at Will. He returned a steady smile. Will saw that as his feet moved, that 'clink' sound echoed around the garden.

"So – you're Will, are you? Oh. I've heard a lot about you. Yes, indeed" his daemon changed into a hawk, and rose into the air, his gaze piercing Will.

"Lyra, who is this exactly?" Will asked, walking back and taking her hand.

"LET GO OF HER HAND!" he shouted.

Will smirked and tightened his grip on her hand. She smiled and moved closer to him so that they were touching shoulders.

"This is Thomas, who is the adopted son of the Master of Jordan," she replied calmly.

"And he's acting like this because…?" he asked, still watching Thomas, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"He hates you, Will. Because I'm yours, and not his," she said, to the horrific face reaction from Thomas. "He's been harassing Pan and I. His daemon, Harka, trapped Pan under her paw, and Thomas tried to-" she broke off.

But Will knew what she would have said. Thomas was shaking.

"So, Tom. You don't mind if I call you that do you?" he asked, taking a step forward. "Right, so Tom, you tried to touch Pan?"

"SO?" Thomas broke out. "It's not like you've touched him, and besides, you're not meant to have a daemon, my father told me-"

"Stop right there, Tom," Will's voice was like an iron clamp, shutting Thomas's mouth. "What if I told you, I have touched Pan before? That that's why he doesn't change anymore? Or that Lyra's touched my daemon, and that's why she doesn't change?"

Thomas was looking between him and Lyra in outrage.

"Oh, and don't let me forget to mention that just like a witch, my daemon can go across oceans to other countries without me."

"And it's not only him, Thomas. Pan can do the same thing," Lyra said, walking up to Will and taking his hand.

"ARGH!" Thomas screamed, and his hand lashed out. Will saw the blade coming towards him in slow motion. It was a glass blade, with a transparent handle. He was about to duck when he realised that it was suddenly spinning towards Lyra. His hand shot out, and ignoring the sharp pain of the blade, and the hot blood that poured down, he caught the blade, and snapped it, throwing it to the floor.

"You would be so foolish, knowing you have NO skill, to throw it at me?" Will's voice was dangerous, angry. "NO ONE HURTS MY LYRA!"

He punched Thomas and wrestled him to the ground, Kirjava launching herself at Harka.

TO BE CONTINUED….