Oxford

Lady Boreal sits at the breakfast table, studying the note that has been handed to her by the footman.  In another world, in an earlier century, it could easily have been mistaken for a telegram.

That would be an understandable mistake.  In fact, it has been sent by means of the lodestone resonator, a device which allows communication between worlds.  It is the means by which the Boreal family have long conducted their day-to-day business and its use did not cease with the brothers' deaths.

The message reads:

By LR

Regret to report total repeat total destruction of Culham facility stop Involvement of Parry crucial stop Subtle Knife involved stop Believe Knife destroyed stop Regret must also report demise of Greaves stop Morley end of message

Elizabeth reads and re-reads the note.  This outcome is catastrophic beyond her worst imaginings.  Many things of great value have been lost, and her programme set back by several years.

How could everything have gone so badly astray?

'You got mixed up.'

'How do you mean?' she asks Parander.

'You didn't know what to do about Will.  You wanted to stop him finding out about the Thread, but you didn't want him to get hurt.  You tried to do two conflicting things at the same time.  No wonder it all went wrong.'

'What about the Knife, though?'

'We didn't know about that.  How could it have come into all this?'

'We may never know.'

'Perhaps Will can tell us.'

'He may suspect us too much now.'

That will have to wait.  Elizabeth has more pressing matters on her mind.  What am I going to tell the Board?

Oxford

'I must talk to Lizzie, Kir.  I've got to know.  I want to know for sure if she told Greaves and Morley that we were going to Culham and how she did it.'

'It's dangerous, Will.  If she betrayed us before, she may do again.'

'Please!'

'I am most unhappy about this.  It may lead to more danger, more hurt, more pain.'

'But you agree, don't you?'

'Yes, Will.  I agree.'

That night, as he enters REM sleep, Will and Kirjava walk the paths of Dream and Imagination and try to make contact with Lizzie.  This attempt is a failure.

Instead, something else happens.

Oxford

They meet on neutral territory, at Brown's restaurant in St Giles.  It is immediately clear to Lizzie, the moment she sees Lyra, exactly what has happened.  She can see that her loss has been balanced, such is the nature of the universe, by Lyra's gain.

Nobody looking at them would guess that Lyra is supposed to be the plain sister, the dowdy academic, and Lizzie the fortunate daughter of a famously beautiful mother.  Lyra sits on the edge of her chair, in a state of childlike excitement, radiating so much happiness that the diners sitting nearby cannot help but be infected by it themselves and wish that they could catch just a little of her joy and keep it, preserved in a jewelled casket, for the times when they feel sad.

'You've talked to him, haven't you?'

'Yes.  Yes!  Is it that obvious?  Why, haven't you?'

'No, I have not.  I'm not sure that I ever will again.'

A brief shadow flits across Lyra's face.  She clasps Pantalaimon to herself.

'I'm sorry, Lizzie.  But think,' she brightens again, for her sympathy for Lizzie cannot depress her for very long, this day of all days, 'I'll be able to relay messages for you just like you did for me.'  She touches her sister's upper arm.  'Don't worry.  It'll all be fine!

'Now, what do you want to eat?  It's my treat today, and I'm hungry!'

Oxford

A week after the Culham Incident, Judy is woken by Will's involuntary movements as he enters the dream-state.  She lies next to him, and watches him, his stern face lit by the moonlight which streams through the window above them.  She sees him relax, sees his joyful smile and knows that his is talking to his Lyra.

I should be happy for him.  I must be happy for him.

She knows that she is being selfish.  How can we carry on like this?  She's slim and blonde and pretty, so he says, and I'm just plain old Judy Beckley.  I'm real and she's real too, but she's there and I'm here.  I've got some rights, haven't I?

Judy's jackdaw-daemon whispers in her ear.  'Be patient, Judy.  Give them time.  Give us time.  It'll work, if we make it.'

'It won't!'  Judy sits up.  'How can I lie here and know that he's… talking to her!  It'd be bad enough if he was just dreaming of her, but this is much, much worse!'

'Remember I love you.  Will loves you.  What did you do, that first night you spent together?'

'You know what we did.  We told each other stories.'

'That's right.  Always remember that.  You told each other stories.  Our lives are stories. True stories.  They may be happy or unhappy – but they must be true.  If you and Will and Kirjava and me simply tell each other our stories, our true stories, then all shall be well.'

'"And all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."  You are the wiser part of me.'

'Skaven.  My name is Skaven.  I didn't know it until now.'

'Let's go back to sleep, Skaven.'

Cittagazze

Guilietta comes crashing through the front door.  'Papa, Papa!'

'Guili!  How's my little girl?'  Giovanni Bellini takes Guilietta to his chest and hugs her tightly.  After a while he turns to his son, Giancarlo.

'Now then, Carlo.  Where've you been hiding, while we have had all these troubles here in Ci'gazze?'

Giancarlo sits down.  'It's a long story, Papa.'