Lyra walked slowly, one arm supported by her Death. He was close now, leading her slowly to the place she had seen once before when she was alive. Lyra could feel him walking beside her, strong and supportive, and was strangely comforted. Her Death was all she had - Pantalaimon had gone, his particles drifting apart into the air. She was old; her once dark blonde hair now grey, her body thin and her skin sallow. But she had lost none of the grace and vitality she had when she was young.

Lyra looked up at the darkening sky. It was fading slowly to iron grey as she walked away from the place where she had died. She concentrated on putting one foot before the other, trying to come to terms with herself. She had seen the Land of the Dead before, but this time there would be no escape from it.

Time was slippery in this world; Lyra didn't know how long she walked. It might have been half an hour, it might have been three hours. But finally she came to the shabby and delapitated town she remembered so well. How could she have forgotten? Lyra found a pang sting her heart as the memories came flooding back.

Her Death guided her up to a house and a man stepped out. He wasn't a ghost like she was. He took one look at her and her companion, nodded, and motioned for her to go past. She would be in the boat soon, making her final journey to the place where the dead lived.

But Lyra wasn't ready just yet. She was waiting for one person - the person she had wanted to see all her life, the person who had dominated her thoughts for 60 years. She looked around at all the thousands of faces going past her as they made their way to the jetty. But none of them was the person she longed for. How long must she wait before he came? Would she even recognize him after all these years? Suppose he had died first and had already gone to the Land of the Dead, and hadn't waited for her? No, she told herself firmly, he would have waited for me, just like I'm waiting for him now.

Lyra's Death pulled at her arm, impatient for her to cross the river. She brushed him off, getting more anxious by the minute. Oh, it was too cruel - to have waited and hoped all that time when she was alive, and to be denied even in death, it was too cruel! She would have given everything just to be able to look at his face one more time. But she also knew she might be here for many years, waiting and waiting - after all, she was only in her early seventies when she died; he might live another ten or twenty years yet.

But then something made her turn around. It wasn't a smell, or a movement, or a brush of her hand; it was more a sensation, a presence, a feeling that someone was near. She spun around and there, standing near her, was the man she had been wishing for all her life. He hadn't seen her yet, but she recognized him at once. Her heart contracted painfully and her breath caught in her throat. She felt about to burst with happiness, but also with it came a painful squeeze. He looked so different! A thousand words flew to her throat, but none came out. All Lyra could do was make a choking sound and run to embrace him. He turned and she saw his eyes light up with delight; then he put his arms around her as well. She had a shock - they could touch! Ghosts could touch each other! Finally she could hold him after all these years!

Lyra felt hot tears flowing out of her eyes. "Oh, Will, I can't tell you how much I've missed you! Everyday of my life - "

He didn't respond, but that was because he was crying as well, crying and holding her so tight she thought he would never let go. And she realized she was holding him as tight he was holding her. Finally she drew back and took a long look at him through tear-blurred eyes. Will had changed; his black hair was streaked with grey, and he was an old man now. But his chin still jutted out defiantly, and he was still fearless just like she remembered him.

"Lyra," he murmered, pressing her to his chest and burying his face in her hair, "I've never stopped thinking about you, and finally you're here! Now I'll never let you go and we'll never be parted again, never! We'll cling together so tight that nothing can break us apart."

Lyra felt as if her heart would break with joy and happiness, and she knew Will was feeling the same. She looked up and once again, they saw their own expression reflected in each other's faces. Finally, what she had been denied so long in life, she had again in death.

Lyra gently disentangled herself from Will's arms, and took him by the hand. "Come," she said in a voice as light as a whisper, "we have one more journey to make yet."

And together, hand in hand, they made their way to the jetty, where the boat would take them to their final destination; the Land of the Dead. And Lyra felt nothing looked more beautiful than this grey bleak landscape, for she had her beloved Will beside her.