They made their way out of Jordan without incident. Lee dumped the under-scholar's coat back on the bench he'd purloined it from, retrieved his own hat and coat, went on a longish walk round the colleges to make certain they weren't being followed (Hester gave the all-clear after thirty minutes) and only then made his way back to Iorek's forge.

He was relieved to see there was no policeman on guard duty outside the shed, and went straight to the door, knocking perfunctorily.

'Enter,' Iorek said. He nodded a greeting when he saw Lee. 'Come in and close the door behind you. I gave the officer keeping watch on me money for drink. He won't disturb us for some time.'

'Good,' Lee said, coming right in and closing the door as soon as Hester was inside. 'Because I've got some information for you, Iorek, and a hell of a lot of questions.'

He told Iorek everything he'd heard in the underground corridor: Mrs Coulter's presence, Dr Van Buskirk's antipathy to whatever she was proposing, his secret research, the blackmail, and, most outrageously, the wolf with a daemon. Lee couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice, but he noted that Iorek didn't seem at all discomposed by this revelation. It was possible the great bear simply didn't understand the significance of such, but Lee doubted it. Iorek had spent too much time with Lee and Hester to disregard the sacred bond that existed between human and daemon.

Lee finished his narrative and lent against the fireplace, which felt as cold as snow. Iorek stood in silence for a long moment, digesting all he'd been told.

'Lee, have you ever heard the legends of the berserkers?' he asked without preamble.

Lee, who had, nodded.

'They were fierce warriors, from the north,' he said. 'Said to be able to turn into wolves – they would don a wolfskin and turn into the animal. Some legends have their daemons turning into wolves too, no matter their original shape.'

'Yes,' Iorek confirmed. 'Those legends have existed for thousands of years, and for the most part are considered just that, legendary. But the panserbjørne know better. For years, the berserkers lived in the forests of the north, neither wholly human nor wholly wolf, but the best of both.'

'I'll be jiggered,' Hester said once again. Lee was dumbfounded. He would have suspected Iorek of pulling his leg, except the bear had no sense of humour as far as Lee had been able to determine.

'There were people who could… change into wolves?' he asked, as the world around him twisted and reconfigured itself.

'In a way,' Iorek said. 'Their spirits left their bodies as they slept and assumed the form of wolves. Their daemons could either remain with their human form or accompany them as they went forth as wolves. They were indeed fierce warriors, but their great purpose was to serve as a link, a bridge between the world of wolves and animals and the world of humans.'

'You've met them?' Lee queried.

'I met one, many years ago,' Iorek answered, and although it was difficult to tell, Lee thought he detected a note of sadness in the bear's speech. 'I believe he was one of the last of his kind. The berserkers were dying out, partly through losses in battle, partly because their numbers had always been small and few children born to them. But the true cause of their demise was persecution by the Magisterium.'

'Doesn't surprise me,' Lee sighed.

'The berserkers were wiped out, under pretext of hunting wolves,' Iorek informed him. 'A campaign funded by the Magisterium, over many decades. I searched for a berserker for months, before I travelled to Oxford. I came here because there were rumours of creatures in the nearby forest. Creatures called wolfwalkers.'

'And these… wolfwalkers… are the same as your berserkers?' Lee asked.

'I am almost certain they are,' Iorek confirmed. 'The stories I have heard regarding them align perfectly with the legends of the berserkers. Humans who, when they sleep, leave their bodies in the shape of wolves and go forth with their daemons. And until their spirit returns, their human form will remain asleep, unless their wolf form is killed, in which case both perish.'

'So, that wolf Mrs Coulter mentioned…?' Lee murmured, half to himself and half to Iorek.

'I believe she has captured and imprisoned a wolfwalker whilst it was in wolf form,' Iorek confirmed. 'For what purpose, I do not know.'

'From what I've heard, I suspect she's got Magisterium backing,' Lee surmised. 'What you've told, what these wolfwalkers can do… well, it goes against the Church's teachings. That we were made in the Authority's image and so forth. I'm not surprised the Magisterium wants to wipe them out. I'm more interested in knowing what you want with them.'

'That is fair,' Iorek acknowledged. 'I seek a wolfwalker because my clan is in desperate need of them, Lee Scoresby. For centuries, we have resided on Bolvangar. We are being forced out, but not by the Magisterium or hunters. The ice that sustains us is melting.'

'Melting?' Lee repeated, his inflection turning it into a question.

'Yes. Slowly at first, but now unmistakeably. For the past five winters, the sea surrounding us has frozen later, and thawed earlier,' Iorek said, voice even graver than usual. 'And less ice is freezing, we have measured it. Our domain is shrinking. It is becoming harder to hunt, and our resources are dwindling. Conflict is beginning to emerge – some bears believe we should abandon our ancestral home, other factions want us to seek a solution through experimental theology and ally with a human state, though none can agree which one.'

'What about the witches?' Lee suggested, remembering his own recent encounter with a witch-queen and her clan.

'Not likely,' Hester spoke up before Iorek could. 'Witches live in the air, Lee, not on the ice. They wouldn't know what's affecting it.'

'Nor do they,' Iorek confirmed. 'I consulted several witches before I made my journey to Oxford, but none could tell me why the ice was melting. Only that it is not the work of witches. Hence my journey to find a wolfwalker, a being who connects the natural world with the human. A being who might be able to divine the reason and explain it to us bears.'

'A long shot,' Lee murmured.

'It is,' Iorek agreed. 'But I saw no other potential solution. I decided to take a gamble, as you would say, Lee. The damned curfew upon the town has thwarted my efforts, however. I was threatened with imprisonment should I breach it, which would be of no good to anyone.'

For a while they stood in silence, Iorek waiting, Lee musing on all he'd learned over the past few days.

'Tell us more about these wolfwalkers, Iorek,' Hester said, apropos of nothing. 'Their spirit leaves their body when they sleep as a wolf?'

'Yes, and any wounds upon the wolf form are suffered by the sleeping human form,' Iorek answered. 'But they have tremendous power that reduces their danger. They retain their human minds in wolf form. And they have power over true wolves – they can speak with them, encourage them to do their bidding.'

'Handy,' Lee muttered.

'And they are stronger and faster than ordinary men, with sharper senses,' Iorek continued. 'Their daemons tend to share in this ability. I also believe that they possess the ability to heal wounds and cure illnesses.'

Hester sat bolt upright. Lee started at those words, and the golden light conjured by the wild girl – was it only last night? – seemed to swirl before his eyes.

'Lee?' asked Iorek, conscious that Lee had realised something.

'You say they can heal injuries?' Lee asked, though it was a rhetorical question. 'Well, I think I've met one of your wolfwalkers, Iorek.'

He pulled back his left coat and shirt sleeves to reveal the fading scar from the wolf bite. Iorek examined it with interest.

'Last night, I broke the curfew,' Lee explained. 'And went into Badbury Forest, to see what all the fuss was about.'

'That doesn't surprise me,' Iorek remarked dryly.

Lee rolled his eyes and continued with his story. Seeing the golden-furred wolf, getting bitten, finding the wild girl in the wolf trap, their escape and Lyra's healing of his wound.

Although Iorek was seldom demonstrative, Lee could sense the bear's excitement rising as he explained what had occurred. He concluded with Lyra's escape into the woods, and the bear harrumphed his approval.

'A wolfwalker, for certain,' he proclaimed. 'The wolf you met in the forest was very possibly Lyra in wolf form, Lee.'

'Hellfire,' Lee muttered, flabbergasted.

'It would explain why the wolf acted so strange,' Hester murmured. 'I was wondering why she came right up to you, Lee. I'm still wondering. Why would a wolf approach a strange man? You could've been a hunter for all she knew.'

'I've no idea,' Lee admitted.

'Nor I,' remarked Iorek. 'But if this… Lyra, is willing to trust you Lee, then perhaps she will be willing to speak with me, also.'

'Maybe,' Lee conceded. 'But she's just a kid, Iorek. She mentioned her father – he's probably one of these wolfwalkers. He might be the best one to speak to. Assuming he's come back, that is.'

As he finished speaking, Lee recalled the wolf and daemon trapped by Mrs Coulter and a horrible possibility reared up in his mind. His eyes met Hester's golden orbs, and he knew the same thing had occurred to her.

'Hell, Iorek,' Lee said wrathfully. 'I think this wolf, or wolfwalker, that Mrs Coulter mentioned, might be Lyra's father. Lyra told us he was late coming back from a hunt, and now this woman has a wolf and its daemon locked up somewhere – it doesn't feel like a coincidence to me.'

'Perhaps it isn't,' Iorek said. 'It depends on how many wolfwalkers live in the forest. It may be a different wolfwalker. But there aren't many of them – or at least, there were never many berserkers.'

'Damn,' Lee muttered, thinking of Lyra, alone and forced to fend for herself in the forest. She might or might not be able to turn into a wolf, but a young girl like that would come to grief sooner or later. 'Perhaps we should go and try to find her.'

'You might be able to,' Iorek said. 'I would draw too much attention, were I to search the woods, and I doubt she would approach me. I suspect I would be… intimidating.'

'No kidding,' remarked Hester. 'Look, even if we find this girl again, what makes you think she's going to be willing to leave her home and travel to the north in hopes of solving some mystery for the armoured bears?'

'Or if we're even going to be able to gain her trust,' Lee sighed. 'If it is her father that Coulter and the scholar were arguing about, she's got every reason to suspect humans. She's in a lot of danger.'

Iorek made no response, and for a few minutes they stood in silence, contemplating the dire situation. It was, as usual, Lee who spoke first.

'Iorek, I'll help you as much as I can,' he said. 'I'll try and find this girl again and see if she's willing to speak to you. But no promises. If she's too angry or scared to help, I ain't minded to persuade her.'

'Very well,' Iorek rumbled. 'I thank you for your help, Lee, Hester. I have learned more this one afternoon than in the whole month I have resided here.'

'I have my uses,' Lee affirmed.

'Precious few,' Hester grumbled. 'But you have them.'

#

Lee and Hester left Iorek's forge soon after, sneaking out through the back door to avoid attracting undue attention. Lee's thoughts were in a whirl, and so he and Hester took a stroll along the river Isis, watching the swans gliding past and the under-scholars idling the early spring afternoon away upon the riverbank, laughing and chatting.

Dusk came early, and they returned to their boarding house. Though Lee was tempted to sneak out to Badbury Forest and look for Lyra again, Hester cautioned against it, and for once Lee listened. The hunters hired by the Council would be on high alert after their escapade the previous night and heading straight back into the woods would be rank stupidity. They would just have to hope Lyra and her daemon managed to keep out of trouble.

Despite his troubled thoughts and anxiety for the wild girl, Lee ate a hearty dinner at his lodgings. He joined a few patrons at the bar afterwards, and immediately established himself as a man of substance by downing his shot of whisky in one go. He stayed for a while listening to the local gossip – which was nearly all about the wolves of Badbury Forest.

The stories ranged from the level-headed to the outlandish. About how the wolves could evade any hunter, how they never killed cattle or sheep, that they were ghosts who hunted down and killed evildoers. That they could assume human form at will, going in the guise of a handsome man or beautiful woman, to seduce people before ripping out their throats. About how they had stolen a human child and raised her as a wolf (Lee had a coughing fit when he heard that). That to kill them would bring a curse down on the city.

'What do you make of it, Hester?' Lee asked a short while later, after they'd retired to his room.

'Load of balderdash, mostly,' she'd answered. 'The stuff about the wolf child, though… makes me think of Lyra. And it's clear the locals aren't in favour of this hunt. For the wrong reasons, true, but it might explain why the Council is paying such a high price for hunters. Trouble acquiring them.'

'Let's hope it stays that way,' Lee muttered, stomach clenching at the thought of an innocent girl becoming prey to ruthless, bloodthirsty men.

Despite Lee's worry, when he stretched out on his bed, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

His dreams were as strange and intense as the previous night's. Lee dreamt he was in the far north, standing on a vast ice floe, while above him the northern lights seemed to dance and flow like a fox running and leaping, the glow like sparks of light glimmering in its fur.

'You're starting to see,' said Iorek, who was standing next to Lee.

Lee turned to face the bear, and found he was back in the forest. Wolves were surrounding him, watching him, their long faces sombre but their numinous eyes inquisitive, even welcoming. One broke away from the circle, and Lee realised it was the golden wolf who had bitten him.

'Lyra?' he asked.

The golden wolf walked up to him, fearless, and seized the hem of his coat in its mouth. It tugged him gently to a pool that rested, still and polished as a mirror, under the trees.

Lee looked into the water.

A wolf, black-furred and dark eyed, looked back.

He woke then, just as a greyish light was struggling to enter the room through a gap in the curtains. Hester was curled up on his chest as usual, and she rubbed herself against his face.

'You're shivering,' she observed. 'Bad dream?'

'No, just a strange one,' Lee murmured, the image of the wolf in the pool lingering in his waking mind. 'The northern lights, and wolves. Lots of wolves.'

'Hardly surprising, given everything that's been going on.'

'True,' Lee agreed, some of the eeriness fading from the recollection at these sensible words. He rose and peered out of the window. Oxford was still slumbering for the most part, but a lit window dotted here and there, smoke from chimneys and the odd worker scurrying past, ready for the early shift, showed the city was waking.

'What's today, Hester?' he asked, glancing over at where she was perched at the foot of the bed. 'Looking for Iorek's wolfwalkers? Doing something respectable for a change?'

'The latter,' Hester said at once. 'Oh, I know you want to go looking for Lyra. I wouldn't mind finding her myself. Someone needs to check on her at least. But let's leave it a day or two. Let things settle down.'

Lee turned back to the window.

'I don't like it,' he muttered. 'The girl could be in trouble. Her father's almost certainly in trouble. With the Council hunting them – and the Magisterium involved…'

'Yeah, but we're not going to be any use if we get ourselves locked up or shot,' Hester said bluntly. 'You know I'm not shy of a fair fight, Lee, but this ain't a fair fight. Not by miles. We're going to have to come at it stealthy.'

The thought of standing by and leaving Lyra to – well, not the wolves, but something worse than wolves – was bitter as vinegar to Lee, but he acknowledged the sense in Hester's counsel. With a sigh, he turned to wash and get ready for another long day.

'Come on then,' he said to her. 'Let's stop by the courier firms again, see if any of them need our assistance.'

#

Lee certainly planned to stop by the courier services, or else traipse down to the wharves and see if any of the tradesman had any casual work that needed doing. However, fate had an entirely different plan for his morning.

He'd just finished breakfast, which took a while as insides seemed to have hollowed themselves out as he slept. Hester, who had known Lee to subsist perfectly well on salted fish and coffee for days on end, had watched with a concerned eye as Lee started on his fourth helping of bacon.

'Sure you're not sickening for something?' she asked as Lee ate. 'You've been eating like a horse these past couple of days.'

'I'd be off my feed if I was ill,' Lee said, unbothered. 'I feel fine, Hester.'

Hester sighed, but Lee was looking perfectly well, so let the matter drop. Soon enough, they were strolling down the street towards the river, ready to go and find work. Lee had suggested they take the scenic route through the colleges, just in case they saw or overheard something about the wolf in Jordan College or the wolf hunt, and Hester had agreed.

Lee walked along swiftly, his legs full of spring. He wished he could run to the riverside, to burn off some of the energy roiling in his limbs that morning but running undoubtedly would attract the wrong kind of attention.

Someone else had no such compunctions, as she had already attracted the wrong kind of attention.

Lee became aware of shouts of outrage and the sound of someone – several someones – running as he neared Jordan College.

'Sounds like some action's occurring,' he said to Hester. Her long ears twitched in surprise.

'It's a couple of streets away,' she informed him. 'I'm impressed you hear it.'

'How could I not, they're yelling fit to wake – hey!'

Lee cried out because he'd just been rammed in the midsection by a girl sprinting heedlessly around a corner, her cheetah-daemon at her side. She might have been hurtling along like a cannonball, but she was much smaller than Lee and when they collided, it was her that went flying.

'Hell!' Lee exclaimed, stepping over to where the girl was lying on the pavement, stunned, her daemon staggering about trying to regain its balance after being checked mid-stride. 'Are you all right, miss? Anything – Lyra? Lyra!'

Lyra – for it was her – had the hood of her coat pulled down low over her brow, another reason she hadn't spied Lee in time to dodge. But as he stooped over her, Lee saw a familiar stubborn chin, and those unmistakeable dark suspicious eyes. Those same eyes now widened with recognition.

'Mr Scoresby!' she gasped.

'You hurt?' Lee asked, and when she managed to shake her head, extended a hand. She took it, and he hauled her to her feet as gently as he could. He was worried for a moment, but once she was up, she stood firmly and wasn't weeping or flinching from pain, her expression stoic. Her hood fell back from her head, and her hair stuck out in a wild tangle, her clothes smudged with dirt. Looking at her, Lee could easily believe she was part wolf.

'What's going on, kid?' Lee asked her.

'No time!' chittered Pantalaimon, who had turned into a magpie and was hopping about as if the cobbles were blazing hot. 'Lyra, run!'

Lee heard them coming. Security forces sounded the same the world over: heavy boots, shouting, whistles. He reacted almost without thinking.

He whipped his hat off and plonked it on Lyra's head.

'Stuff your hair into that!' he hissed at her. 'You, Pan – turn yourself into something dull!'

Lee never raised his voice, but his tone did not admit the possibility of disobedience. Lyra did as she was told, while Pan stopped leaping about, turned into a nondescript brown dog and stood obediently at her feet.

'Your scarf, Lee!' Hester said in a loud whisper. Lee whipped it off and wrapped it round Lyra's neck in an instant, tugging it up to cover her chin. He put his arm round her shoulders and began to walk along, nonchalance radiating from him.

'Walk slowly, don't run,' he whispered. Lyra nodded.

They hadn't taken more than four steps when the security men were upon them. They wore the black, unmarked uniforms of the Magisterium rather than the insignia of college or private security, an unpleasant surprise. Lee never altered his pace, strolling calmly as they thundered past. He felt Lyra tense under his arm and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

The men thundered past, intent on a fleeing girl, not a man and what they thought was a boy walking quietly. Only one of them, a thuggish-looking man with a brown-and-white pointer daemon, paused to speak to them.

'Excuse me, sir,' he panted to Lee. 'You seen a girl run past? Skinny scrap, dark hair?'

'A few moments ago,' lied Lee. 'Tearing along as if the devil were after her. Ran to the end of the street and turned right.'

'Thank you,' the man gasped, and pounded off, the pointer-daemon pausing to glare at Lee suspiciously but then jogging off with her human.

Lee and Lyra continued walking along until the man was safely round the corner. Lee waited a few moments to make sure they didn't double back, and then halted, letting go of Lyra.

'Come on,' he said to her. 'We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. If that guard doesn't work out something's amiss, his daemon might.'

'Where do we go, though?' Pantalaimon asked.

'Iorek's forge?' Hester suggested, but Lee shook his head.

'Too conspicuous. The police are watching,' he answered. 'Let's head for the river as planned. We can lose ourselves pretty well down there.'

He glanced down at Lyra.

'You figure on coming with us or making a break for it?' he asked bluntly. ''Cause if it's the latter, I'm mighty attached to that hat. I'd like to have it back.'

Lyra, despite the seriousness of the situation, grinned at him.

'We're coming with you,' she said. 'That's twice now you've helped me. I can't steal your hat.'

'I should think not,' said Hester, as they turned in the opposite direction to the one taken by the Magisterium security forces and began their long walk to safer environs.

#

They strolled along, forcing themselves not to rush. Lee kept one eye out for the Magisterium security forces and one on Lyra, in case she panicked or froze. But she was remarkably cool for a girl with a missing father and with the forces of the law out to nab her. She walked alongside Lee occasionally offering an idle comment on the weather or an aside about the environs they found themselves in. Pantalaimon stayed in dog form, trotting along steadily.

They made it to the wharves without incident and slid into the crowd like a knife into warm butter. Lee felt immeasurably better, concealed as they were among dockers and bargemen and gyptians and tradesmen and messenger-boys and factory workers and beggars and thieves.

'We need to talk,' he said to Lyra as they manoeuvred around a cart piled high with timber. 'Let's find somewhere quiet.'

'Follow me,' Lyra said at once. 'I know somewhere.'

She veered right and ducked down an alleyway that was little more than a muddy patch of overlooked ground between two warehouses. Lee and Hester followed her into the tangle of forgotten lanes and overgrown little courtyards that form an indispensable part of any industrial area, until Lyra paused beside a wooden door so weathered it was impossible to tell what colour it had originally been painted. It boasted an impressive iron lock, only slightly rusted. However, when Lyra tried the door it opened at once.

'It's always open,' she informed Lee. 'No-one bothers about it cause there's nothing in here to steal and the night-watchman's got a rottweiler-daemon, so he scares them off. He's a great soft pudding really, but no-one realises it.'

Lee stepped inside and found himself in a cavernous room empty of everything except dust and pigeon droppings. The smell was cloying, and he covered his nose. Lyra was doing the same with his scarf.

'We'll get used to it in a few minutes,' she said, sounding apologetic. 'Here's your hat back.'

She pulled it off her head and held it out to Lee, but he didn't take it.

'First things first, Lyra,' he said, dropping his hand and looking her in the eye. 'Why were those men after you?'

She hesitated. Lee could almost see the mental gymnastics she was doing. She was secretive, either nature or upbringing had made her that way, but she felt she owed Lee for his help.

'I tried to break in somewhere,' she said at last. 'At Jordan College. They spotted me and was chasing me.'

Lee nodded. The words had a ring of truth to them.

'Why'd you try and break in?' he asked.

Another pause, longer this time. Lyra stared at him – an assessing stare, not a blank one. Pantalaimon turned into an eagle owl and stared at him from a window ledge. Lee wondered how he was measuring up.

'I was looking for my father,' Lyra said at long last. Lee nodded. This was lining up with what he'd learned over the past couple of days.

'Was he visiting there?' he enquired, hoping to coax a little more out of her.

'Not exactly,' Lyra mumbled, twisting his hat in her hands. Lee waited, but she didn't say anything else. Lee sighed. Time to try another tactic.

'Lyra,' he began. 'I'm in Oxford for a reason. I got word a friend of mine travelled here. He's called Iorek Byrnison, and he's one of the panserbjørne.'

Lyra's eyes glowed with awe.

'An armoured bear?' she breathed. 'From the north?'

'Yeah, we go back quite a way. I was surprised to hear he was in Oxford, of all places, so I travelled here to check on him. He's here for a reason. He's seeking out something called a wolfwalker.'

Pantalaimon fell off the windowsill.

The look of shock of Lyra's face might have been funny under different circumstances. Her eyes opened so wide that for a crazy moment Lee thought they might roll out of her head. Her jaw dropped and she stopped breathing for a moment. His poor hat was having the life squeezed out of it.

Then the expression vanished from her face as if it had been wiped off, and she smirked.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she began.

'Sure you do,' Lee said easily. 'Unless I've gone stark staring mad –'

'A distinct possibility,' Hester murmured.

'Then you healed my arm last night, and I've been told that's something wolfwalkers can do,' Lee continued. 'Heal wounds through magic. Care to explain?'

Lyra's eyes flicked to the door, but Lee was standing between her and the exit. There were probably more escape routes throughout the warehouse, but Lee didn't intend to let Lyra run away this time.

'Easy now,' he said, holding up a hand. 'Lyra, I'm not going to hurt you. And I'm sure as hell not going to give you up to the Magisterium. Them and me have had a few disagreements over the years, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But it looks to me like you're in trouble, and if your pa is missing – which is how it seems – you're gonna need some help.'

Pantalaimon, who had landed in a heap of feathers on the grimy floor, turned into a stoat, and ran to Lyra, running up her leg and onto her shoulder, where he surveyed Lee through bright black eyes. Lyra reached up to stroke his head, regarding Lee thoughtfully.

'How did you learn about wolfwalkers?' she asked him, her voice uncharacteristically subdued.

'Iorek told me about them,' Lee answered. 'He's come to Oxford specially to find one. He told me about how they turn into wolves when they sleep, how they have power over wild wolves – and about how they can heal wounds.' He flexed his left hand in remembrance. 'When I remembered what you did to my arm… well, it all kind of made sense.'

Lyra nodded.

'What does your friend want with a wolfwalker?' she asked.

'He needs help,' Lee answered. 'He's got a problem at Bolvangar, where he and his clan live. The ice they need to survive is melting – it's getting worse year after year. He told a wolfwalker can – can move between worlds. The animal world and the human. He thinks a wolfwalker might be able to tell him what's occurring and how to stop it.'

Lyra nodded again. And then she turned her back on him and retreated a few paces. Lee folded his arms and watched her.

'What should we do, Pan?' whispered Lyra.

'He's saved us. Twice now. And he's right – we do need help. But do you think we can trust him?'

'I think we can, yeah. I got a feeling about him.'

'Your father said we were never to tell anyone.'

'But he's not here. He must be in trouble, and we've got to help him if he is.'

'Perhaps if we agree to help the armoured bear, Mr Scoresby will help us.'

Lee quite literally bit his tongue to keep from blurting out that he'd help Lyra, no obligation or repayment necessary. He wasn't sure where the impulse came from, only that it gripped him like an eagle's talon, he felt it so strongly.

Lyra and Pan did a little more whispering. Then she turned back around and strode over to him, proffering his much-abused hat. This time, Lee accepted it.

'Mr Scoresby,' Lyra said, face grave and composed. 'Will you come with me, back to Badbury Forest? I got some things to show you, and lots to talk about, and it'll be easier out there. But if I take you, you've got to promise me you'll never tell anyone else about what I show you. No-one. Unless I tell you it's all right. This is a matter of life and death.'

Lee repressed the urge to chuckle at her seriousness and placed his hat back on his head.

'You've got my word,' he said, and then shivered as if a cool breeze had just blown through the warehouse. And although he couldn't have explained how he knew it, he realised he'd just made a vow he'd die before breaking. Hester pressed herself against his leg, conscious something momentous had just happened.

'All right,' said Lyra. 'Come on, Mr Scoresby. We've got a long walk ahead.'

Author's Notes: The plot thickens... suffice it to say that as usual, Lee and Hester will soon be in a world of trouble.

The berserkers existed in our world, and the name comes from the Old Norse word 'berserkr' (plural berserkir). Although the exact meaning is up for debate, most modern academics think it means 'bear-shirt,' and was used to denote someone who went into battle wearing the skin of a bear. Berserkers were legendary warriors who fell into a trance-like rage when they fought (hence our modern word 'berserk'). In Lyra's world of course, they're shape-shifters.

Till next time, dear readers...