Chapter 13: Return

"Why must you go so soon? How can they give you these responsibilities again, even after all you two have been through?" Mary Malone was trying desperately to suspend Will and Lyra's journey. In her eyes it seemed too dangerous for them to undertake this task of saving the world once more. But just looking at the two young adults, she could tell her protestations were falling on deaf ears.

"Doctor Malone, you know we have to go." Lyra's eyes were burning. "We can't just sit back and watch as this goes on. It will eventually affect us all. Do you think Metatron will be satisfied once he has control of my world? To him, all worlds are his for the taking! Would you stand by and do nothing?"

Mary looked at Will and at his daemon. His eyes were locked on Lyra and Kirijava's were closed in resignation. She knew that Will and Lyra would have to leave and that she would have to stay behind. But she was ready to make that sacrifice.

When Will turned his head, Mary could see the resolve in his expression. No matter what she said, or did, they would leave. She looked down at the hardwood floor. "No, I wouldn't." She replied.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up. "Thank you, Mary." Will said. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, and it would only make it harder for me to leave if you tried to stop me." He removed his hand and reached for Lyra's. She hesitated for only a moment.

As they walked toward the door, hands clasped, Lyra turned back, "Farewell Mary, and thank you so much." Letting go of Will's hand, she ran back and hugged Mary fiercely. She knew that this would definitely be the last time she would ever see this woman. When their embrace ended, Mary wiped the few tears from Lyra's face.

She smiled. "Good-bye Lyra; and good luck to you both." Lyra turned and walked out the door, Will at her back with Kirijava in his arms. They didn't turn around again.

With every step he took, Will remembered the wrenching pain he'd felt when he'd gone to the World of the Dead: the feeling of his daemon being torn from his heart. As he held Kirijava in his arms he wondered if he would feel that again when he traveled into Lyra's world. He knew he would have to leave his beloved daemon behind, and she knew the same. He could only imagine what torment Lyra's body was in, having Pan on the other side of the barrier.

He looked at her face, her beautiful beloved face, and in her eyes he saw the agony she was in, the suffering she let no one see.

They stopped in front of the all too familiar bench in the Botanic Garden. Releasing his daemon, Will wrapped his arms around Lyra, trying to comfort her. After a moment she pushed him away gently. Sitting down, she looked up at Will, who was scooping up his daemon for a last good-bye. "This is it." She smiled tiredly. "We're back to saving the world again. Who knew we had one last adventure in us?"

Will smiled distractedly, but was focusing on the feel of Kirijava's warm fur against his fingers. He buried his face in her fur and muttered his good-byes. She licked his face gently, "I love you, Will. Come back soon."

A whispered "I love you, too" and he set her down. He joined Lyra on the bench and they clasped hands. "Okay," He said with a sigh. "What must I do?"

"You have to want it, with all you heart and soul. You have to need to be there, where ever you want to go. Don't let any thoughts of where you're leaving interrupt the thoughts of where you're going or you will be torn between the two destinations. Then, even the angels won't be able to help you." Lyra looked warily at him. "You understand?"

Will swallowed heavily. One last glance at his daemon and then, "Yes."

"Ready?" She asked.

"Yes."

Without warning she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him with all her might. After a moments hesitation he embraced her back, with as much force. He covered her face with kisses. He could taste her sweet, salty tears. Then he found her mouth. He kissed her fiercely, and realized that he wanted to be with her forever, he needed to be anywhere she was, no matter where that led.

And with that realization came the feeling of being compressed beyond the limits of pain, the feeling of being squeezed through a tunnel that was much too small. He could still feel Lyra in his arms. She was crying and he held her close and wished for the end of this torture. It reminded him too much of the feeling of traveling into the World of the Dead, his daemon being ripped from his heart. A wrenching feeling tore through his body, making him scream, but no sound came. He focused on Lyra, blocking any other thoughts. He focused on the feel of her arms around him, the scent of her hair, the taste of her lips. The pain ebbed slowly, and eventually disappeared, taking his fluttering consciousness with it.