They did get their share of deer meat, and either due to sheer appetite or the fact that he had a wolf's taste and stomach, Lee found it was delicious. Lyra gobbled it down with such abandon that Lee, not easily discomfited, nearly choked on his own meal and Pantalaimon began muttering about 'table manners.' Lyra grumbled but ate more slowly after.

The wolves ate their fill, and afterwards lingered by the kill, some taking a quick nap and others playing, chasing after Towser who initiated the game by nipping them and running off.

As soon as the sky began to shade from purple-black to grey in the east however, Lyra began to chivvy the wolves into returning to the den. A few groused but they came along willingly enough.

The hunters will be heading home round about now, she said. It's early for the wolves to return, but it will be safe enough, and we need to get you back to your daemon. And try and work out what's happened.

They headed back at a gentle pace, Rattail and Nose-scar leading the way and Lee and Lyra trailing behind the pack, Lee's tracker and Towser occasionally hanging back to check on them. Everyone was alert for hunters or other threats, but as they neared their destination, Lee's awareness faded, and his apprehension grew. He had no idea – none at all – about how Hester would react to what had transpired, and that was deeply disturbing. He had nearly always been able to predict his daemon in everything, and now he couldn't.

Lyra, how do we turn back? He asked, trying to take his mind off the unknown, or at least dispel another unknown.

It's easy, Lyra said reassuringly. Now we've had a night as wolves, all you need to do is lie on top of yourself. We kind of sink into ourselves, and then in a little while we'll wake up and be human again.

Simple as that, huh?

As simple as that.

The escarpment leading to the wolves' den reared up before them. The wolves entered one by one, Lyra lingering to check no-one was watching. There was only a tawny owl perched in a tree, watching them through slitted eyes. Lyra ducked into the tunnel.

Lee took one last deep breath and followed.

The long dark tunnel was dark no longer, appearing only a little dimmer than the woods had been. Lee sped through, and before he'd come upon the clearing, he could hear Hester's voice. The sound flooded him with warmth, and he had to slow down as his legs trembled with sheer relief.

'Kid, is that you? I'm glad you're back,' Hester was saying. 'Lee's out cold, I've never known him sleep this deeply. Reckon something's up with him…'

Lee entered the clearing. Hester was crouched beside someone laid out in a sleeping pack, someone motionless. She was speaking to Lyra, still a pale-furred wolf, but as Lee entered, her ears twitched, and she turned round to stare at him.

Lee had tried to rehearse what he was going to say to his daemon but had faltered every time. As it was, he didn't need to say anything. Hester took one look at him and knew. Somehow, she saw the man he was in the wolf he'd turned into.

Joy flooded his being, so intense it was almost painful. He loped over to where Hester was sitting, rigid with shock.

Hey, Hester, he said.

'Lee,' she whispered, her voice faint and tremulous. 'Oh, Lee, what have they done to you?'

Nothing bad, Hester, he murmured, nuzzling at her a little. Just… unexpected.

'Unexpected? Unexpected? Death's head on a mopstick, Lee! You've got a fur coat and a tail!'

Uh, yes. We're not sure how it happened. But Hester, I'm all right. And I'm still me. I just… I look different.

'Different,' Hester said flatly. 'Different, my hind foot! You've been witched into a wolf! How do we turn you back?'

I'll turn back now that the morning's coming, Lyra says.

'Well, hurry it up!'

Lee reflected that it might be for the best. He stepped over to the sleeping form lying on the ground, trying not to look at himself. He'd reached his limits for toleration of the uncanny. Recalling what Lyra had said, he stepped onto the sleeping man…

His paws sank through cloth and flesh and bone as if he was suddenly no more substantial than fog. Lee felt himself descending, as if he'd stood in quicksand, until his vision winked out and all was darkness.

A moment later, it seemed, he became conscious of his left hand, which was stinging. He realised that it was because Hester was nipping at his fingers, trying to rouse him.

He sat up far too quickly, his torso and back protesting after he'd lain motionless all night. But he was quickly distracted by Hester, who leapt onto his lap and snuggled against him, rubbing her head against his chin. He brought his arms up to embrace her, chuckling as his limbs behaved exactly as he expected them to.

Lee gazed round the clearing. Some time had passed since he'd stepped back into himself. The light was the pale grey of the final hour before dawn, and the wild wolves were snoozing in various attitudes around the clearing. There was no sign of Lyra, and he guessed she was either sleeping properly or in the process of resuming being human.

There was more colour in the world now, too. Lee held up his abused hand before his face, wriggling his fingers.

'Arms, legs, opposable thumbs. I'm back,' he sighed. 'Oh, Hester, what a night I've had! I was a wolf in the woods, and you weren't with me.'

'You great galoot! I've been here with you all night – except the important part of you skedaddled! What the hell happened?'

Lee gave her the story, as fast as he could. His struggle to wake, running after the wolfpack, the realisation of what he'd become, fleeing the hunters, becoming a hunter in turn and feasting on the deer…

'You should've come right back here,' Hester snapped when he drew to a close. 'Running around all night like a wild thing! You could've been killed!'

'Lyra and the wolves looked after me,' he murmured, stroking her in reassurance. 'I wanted to come back, Hester, but the hunters were out again.'

'Hunting you.'

'Hunting all of us – morning, Lyra.'

Lyra emerged from her sleeping place, rubbing her face and yawning, Pantalaimon draped over her shoulders as a sloth. But her eyes lit up as soon as she espied Lee.

'Mr Scoresby!' she exclaimed, running over.

'Hold it right there, missy!' Hester yelled, using Lee's stomach to launch herself onto the ground between him and Lyra. 'No closer!'

Lyra skidded to a halt, her face crumpling in dismay.

'Hester!' Lee protested, throwing off his covers and standing. 'What's gotten into you?'

'She's witched you into a wolf, that's what's gotten into me!' Hester exclaimed, stamping in annoyance. 'And now you're telling me you've had hunters after you, and you expect me to just – accept it?'

'I never witched him!' protested Lyra. 'He just turned!'

'Oh yeah? How about that bite you took out of him? That was you, wasn't it? What if you – infected him, somehow?'

'I'd almost forgotten that,' Lee muttered, recalling his first encounter with the gold-furred wolf a couple of nights ago.

'Yeah, it was,' Lyra admitted. 'I didn't mean to, but – but it can't be that! I've bit people before and they never turned.'

'Maybe it's something to do with my coming and sleeping in your den,' Lee suggested, nudging Hester with his foot, trying to get her to back down a little. 'Maybe this place has some kind of magic on it. It might be why your father chose to live here.'

'Could be,' Lyra murmured. 'Father's never told me if people could be turned into wolfwalkers… or how.'

'Lee, we'd better get you back to town,' Hester said. 'If it is this place that's caused this, the sooner you leave, the better.'

'Hold your horses, Hester,' Lee protested, as Lyra looked dismayed. 'We've promised Lyra our help, remember?'

Hester hunched over, a little chastened.

'I know we did. But Lee, we didn't sign up to have you transformed into a… a wolfwalker. This isn't what you are, and you didn't agree to it.'

'But you can't just leave!' Lyra protested, anger threaded through her words. 'You're our packmate now! You belong here!'

'Hester, I didn't sign on for this, you've got that straight,' Lee sighed. He felt torn – caught between Hester's dismay and Lyra's need for protection, and his own, secret thrill at the thought of last night's adventures and the possibility of more. 'But leaving now isn't the answer. What if I leave and the same thing happens tomorrow anyways? I'll be a wolf but stuck in the middle of the city. It'd be a disaster.'

'Goddammit,' Hester muttered. She was unhappy, but saw the possibility, and Lee hoped that meant she was calming down a little.

'He's got to stay with us, now,' Lyra protested. 'You've got to learn to be a wolf, Mr Scoresby. It'd be dangerous for you to leave now.'

'Seems to me you're in more danger if you hang around,' Hester muttered. 'You'll be hunted, Lee. The Council wants to wipe out the wolves in this forest, and now you've turned into one. We need to get you cured.'

'No, we don't!' Lyra said, fury rising. Pantalaimon tried to interject but she carried on passionately. 'Don't you understand? You belong with us, now, with the pack! How can you just – just leave?'

'I don't know, because I'm not leaving,' Lee said firmly. He decided it was time to take charge of the situation, which was rapidly getting out of hand. 'For one thing, Hester, we promised Lyra our help and we're going to give it to her. And another, if I have turned into one of these – these wolfwalkers, then I need teaching. There'll be a thousand and one things I need to know to survive, and it seems to me Lyra's the only one who can show me.'

Lyra folded her arms and nodded. Pan turned into a stoat and peered down at Hester. Lee glanced down at her. He would have scorned to beg anyone else for anything, but he hoped Hester would see the plea in his eyes.

'All right, we'll hang around for now,' Hester said at last. 'I guess Lee's right – we promised to help you out. But no more tricks, missy.'

'We never played any,' Pantalaimon said. 'We don't know why this happened. We've told you that.'

'Then let's find out,' Hester said, her tone making it clear this was non-negotiable. 'And find out whether it can be cured.'

'It's not a disease,' Lyra muttered, expression sullen.

'What is it then?' Hester retorted.

Rather to Lee's surprise, it was Pantalaimon who answered. He leapt to the ground and nuzzled against Hester. She stiffened, tried to pull away, but Lee nudged her forward with his leg.

'It's magic,' Pan said to her. 'You'll see that, soon. You'll be a part of it.'

'Not likely,' Hester muttered, but the venom had drained from her tone. Lee heaved a discreet sigh of relief and turned back to Lyra.

'Right, now it's time to do what we agreed on last night – reconnaissance,' he said. 'We're headed into Oxford as soon as we've cleaned ourselves up and eaten. I'll get breakfast. You go and wash your face.'

'Why?' Lyra demanded, unfolding her arms and placing her hands on her hips. Lee fought down a befuddled desire to laugh at her indignation.

'Because you're as filthy as an unwashed potato,' Lee retorted. 'We've got to blend in when we go back, and you're not going to manage it looking like I just dug you out of the ground. Go and scrub!'

Lyra turned and headed for the spring, muttering wrathfully. Lee shook his head, and glanced down at Hester, who was looking at him with an expression that could have withered a ripe pomegranate.

'What?' Lee asked.

'Getting the kid to wash up before breakfast? You sound like an old woman,' Hester informed him gleefully.

'What? I do not! You take that back!'

#

Breakfast was a tense affair. Hester, deeply unhappy with what had transpired, huddled close to Lee and rebuffed attempts at conversation, though she didn't offer any more reproaches. He longed to comfort her but was uncertain how, an agonising new sensation. Eventually, Hester left him and Lyra to it and went to curl up inside his coat.

Lyra was subdued, her obvious delight in having another wolfwalker around tempered by Hester's hostility. Pantalaimon stayed close to her, though he kept his eyes on Hester.

Lee ate swiftly, and when finished, asked Lyra if he could take a look at her father's research notes.

'What for?' Lyra asked, a tad suspicious. 'You're not looking for a cure already, are you?'

'Well, I was hoping to find out something about why this happened to me,' Lee said reasonably. 'Let's take this one step at a time.'

Lyra evidently thought this was sensible, for she led Lee over to her father's shelter with no hesitation. A quick rummage through his books and journals didn't uncover anything useful, however. There was a great deal of material on experimental theology that might as well have been written in Roman for all Lee understood it, much of it centred on something called the Barnard-Stokes hypothesis. There were maps and charts that Lee could comprehend, nearly all of them mapping the North. There were a few tomes on wolves, their diet, preferred habitats and so forth.

'Nothing on wolfwalkers,' Lee sighed after a bit. 'I guess he didn't want to take the risk of writing it down.'

'He never told me much, neither. At least, not about how wolfwalkers are made, or even if they can be made,' Lyra sighed. Lee raised a quizzical eyebrow.

'How'd he expect you to cope with being a wolfwalker if he didn't tell you what's involved?' he asked.

'I suppose he thought he'd be here to help,' Lyra shrugged. Lee bit back a tart response and steered her out of the small cave, seeing no reason to linger.

Lyra left instructions with Rattail and Nose-scar to stay hidden and keep quiet, and they crawled through the tunnel to begin their journey to Oxford. The day was cool but clear, and the walk was a pleasant one. Soon, the fields and hedgerows began to be replaced by houses and shops.

'You've speeded up, Lee,' Hester remarked as they walked.

'You'll be faster now you're – one of us,' Lyra muttered, casting a suspicious glance at a couple of passers-by. 'You'll be stronger, too.'

'Hmm,' said Hester. 'Lee, I think we should call on Iorek. See if he can shed any light on what's occurring here.'

Lee glanced down at his daemon. Her tone was worryingly neutral, but her answering look was full of good, old-fashioned Hester exasperation.

'What, you got any better ideas?' she enquired, and he grinned. 'Besides, he's the one searching for a wolfwalker. Might as well update him on what's happened.'

'Might as well,' Lee agreed. 'Lyra, fancy meeting my friend Iorek?'

Her eyes glowed, and Pantalaimon turned into a sparrow again, cheeping with excitement.

However, when they got to Iorek's forge, it was empty, and there was no sign of Iorek in the vicinity. The police officer watching the forge was nowhere to be seen either. Lee had a quick word with a nearby butcher, the one supplying Iorek with meat, and the man informed him the great bear had been approached by some Gyptians early that morning and departed with them after a few minutes conversation. No, he had no idea when the bear would return.

'We'll check back later,' Lee reassured Hester and Lyra, who for once were united in disappointment. 'Let's head over to Jordan and see if we can't find out where your father is being held. We need to come up with an idea about how to do it, too. Shall I do the whole courier disguise again?'

'Not with all those security guards hanging round, you'd get rumbled within five minutes,' Hester pointed out. 'But didn't Lyra say she's got plenty of friends in Jordan?'

'Yeah,' Lyra said. 'Specially Roger. I bet he'd spy for us if I asked him to.'

'I'm not sure that's a good idea,' Lee said, concerned. 'We're dealing with dangerous people here. I don't think sending a – your friend to spy is the best idea.'

Lee only just stopped himself from saying 'a child.' He had the feeling Lyra would take exception, and besides, it would be doing both her and her friend a disservice. Lee knew plenty of so-called grown-ups who would have folded like paper when confronted with Lyra's predicament.

'Someone else then,' Lyra murmured. 'The Master won't be able to tell us anything, I bet the guards are watching him too…'

'Know any servants?' Lee asked. 'They'll know everything that goes on in Jordan, I bet.'

'What about Bernie, the pastry chef?' Pantalaimon asked. 'He was always kind to us, I bet he'd tell whatever he knows. You know he always seems to know what's happening in Jordan.'

'Hmm,' said Lee, marginally happier with recruiting a grown man to their mission. 'Is he good at keeping secrets? We can't afford to get found out.'

'He'll keep quiet, I'm sure,' Lyra reassured him. 'He's kept quiet about things for me before now.'

'Might've been better if he hadn't,' Pan muttered. 'Remember the starling? We were banned from the kitchens for a whole year!'

'That wasn't Bernie's fault! The head cook's a fool, anyone could've seen it was a starling except him –'

'Uh, Lyra? If we could get back to the subject at hand?' Lee interrupted. Hester snickered, and Lyra and Pan subsided. 'Let's go and have a talk with this Bernie, if you think he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut about seeing you. We don't want some well-meaning person prying into your affairs and deciding to ship you off to an orphanage.'

Lee sighed, suddenly feeling the load of the responsibility he'd taken on like a suit of old-fashioned chainmail, weighing him down. Until they rescued Lord Asriel, he was all this girl had – she'd never survive living among humans. What the hell had he been thinking, taking on Lyra and her missing father? He should deliver her back to Jordan, or to someone who could take proper care of her, only there was no-one else. Only him.

Lyra, mistaking the reason for his sudden gloom, reached up and threaded her arm through his.

'Don't worry,' she told him. 'Bernie won't snitch on us, and even if he did, we've got the forest to hide in. We're pack now. We'll stick together.'

'I guess we will,' Lee murmured, managing to summon a smile before Lyra began tugging him in the direction of Jordan College.

#

Getting into the college unnoticed was as easy as pie, despite the Magisterium guards. Probably because no-one thought it worthwhile guarding the kitchen, which was to their advantage.

Lyra led Lee and Hester to a small door set into one of the walls bordering a narrow lane with few pedestrians. When the coast was clear, they slipped inside and found themselves in a yard filled with odds and ends from the kitchens – barrels, crates, old rusty saucepans, even a disused oven.

Lyra ducked behind one of the largest piles of junk, which was concealing a tiny passageway. Lee wasn't an especially broad man, but he had to enter sideways and edge along like a crab.

Luckily, it was a short passage and ended in another, unlocked door. They slipped through and Lee found himself in a small room, unfurnished and lit only by the light peeping in at the window. Another, larger door was set in the opposite wall and he heard the clatter and clamour of utensils, roaring ovens and raised voices.

Lyra crept across the room and gingerly opened the door. Pantalaimon turned himself into a mouse and crept through into the kitchen.

Lee found he was holding his breath. Pantalaimon wouldn't be able to go far, not without causing Lyra unbearable pain. He felt Hester pressing against his leg, sharing his tension, and bent to touch her head and comfort her.

The suspense didn't last. Pantalaimon scampered back into the room a moment later.

'He's on his way,' he whispered to Lyra. 'I spoke to Rasmus – Bernie's daemon. He says to wait here and not to make any noise.'

Lyra bent to scoop him up and place him on her shoulder. They waited in silence for a few more minutes, until the door opened again and a short, stocky man, his red squirrel daemon clinging to his belt, squeezed himself through. He turned round and stopped dead when he saw Lee.

'Morning,' Lee winked.

'Who're you?' the man whispered. Lee eyed him. He was muscular, especially in the arms, but he looked nervous and his daemon was a-quiver. No, he was no fighter, this one. But he wasn't running away either.

'It's all right, Bernie,' Lyra murmured. 'This is my friend, Mr Scoresby. He's been looking after me.'

Lee held out a hand. Bernie hesitated, jumpy as a trapped rabbit, but then reached over and shook it. Lee noticed his grip was firm.

'Lyra,' Bernie said very quietly. 'I'm glad to see you. Everyone's been worried since you left, we thought you'd have sent word to Roger at least.'

'Sorry,' Lyra mumbled. 'I couldn't. It would take too long to explain why, but it was important. And now this is important. We need you to find something out for us.'

'What's that?' Bernie asked, eyes flicking to the closed door. His daemon jumped down and stationed itself by the wooden panels, listening for eavesdroppers or anyone coming.

'We think there's a wolf being experimented on somewhere in this college, and we need to know where,' Lee answered. 'It's crucial we learn this.'

'Why?' Bernie quizzed. Lee tilted his head.

'To be honest, Mr…?'

'Johansen.'

'Mr Johansen, it would take too long to explain why, and if we did, you'd think we'd gone stark raving mad,' Lee said frankly. 'You'll just have to take our word for it.'

'Please, Bernie,' Lyra added, and although there was no plea in her voice, it clearly made Bernie's mind up for him.

'The wolf's being held in the basement of the Sheldon Building,' he said. 'I know because we've been sending raw meat over there for a week now. Great big chunks of it… and it's been howling like a night-ghast since they brought it. Oh, they've tried to soundproof the room, but we can still hear it. It's frightening everyone…and those Magisterium guards aren't helping.'

'How many guards are there?' Lee enquired.

'I'm not sure,' Bernie answered, looking lost. 'There's always two on duty outside the building, though. And Dr Van Buskirk always has one following him around college – we think his latest bit of research upset someone important.'

'And the Master's just allowing this?' Lyra demanded, outraged.

'We don't think he's got much choice, Lyra,' Bernie whispered, eyes travelling round the little room as if he thought the guards might be hidden inside the walls, listening to their furtive conversation. 'There's a woman – a beautiful woman…'

'Mrs Coulter. Working with the Council,' Lee said with surety. Bernie nodded.

'Yes. I overheard the Steward talking to Mrs Lonsdale – the Master was furious about the guards, wanted to throw all of them out. But this Mrs Coulter, she went to his office, and spoke to him. Whatever she said, it must've spooked him, 'cause he's not raised a finger against them. Lets them do whatever.'

Lee and Lyra exchanged glances.

'Thank you, Bernie,' Lyra said. 'You've been a big help.'

'Wait – there's one more thing,' Bernie said, as Lyra began to turn away. She stopped and waited. Bernie twisted his hands in the floury apron he was wearing.

'This Mrs Coulter, she's up to something,' Bernie mumbled, looking nervier than ever. 'I was taking some pastries up to the Retiring Room this morning, when I overheard her and Dr Van Buskirk in there, arguing. She's doing something she's not meant to – I'm not sure who she's working for, but she's planning on moving that beast somewhere, in two days' time. She's going to transport it by boat, along the White Horse River.'

'Through the forest?' Lyra exclaimed. 'But only Gyptians can sail those waters, I remember you telling me. Anyone else gets their boat wrecked, or they drown.'

'And I think she's going to use the Gyptians to do it,' Bernie said. 'Look, Lyra, you don't know this, but my mother was a Gyptian. I'm still close to the Western Gyptians. And they're in uproar at the moment – two of them have gone missing. Been gone for three days now. Remember Tony Costa? He's one of them.'

'And you think Mrs Coulter has a hand in their disappearance?' Lee quizzed.

'I don't know,' admitted Bernie. 'I'm only telling you what I've overheard or been told. But I know Mrs Coulter was saying something about "leverage" with the Gyptians, before she realised, I was there. And it's not like Tony to take off without a word. He's got too much respect for Ma Costa to do that.'

Lyra nodded thoughtfully. There was a yell from inside the kitchen and Bernie looked fearfully over his shoulder.

'I've got to get back to work, Lyra,' he said. 'You take care now, you hear?'

'I will,' Lyra answered and darted forward to hug him quickly. 'Bernie, you can't tell no-one we've been here. Not even Roger. It's dangerous.'

'Right you are,' Bernie sighed, before fixing Lee with a gimlet-eyed glare. 'And you, Mr Scoresby, whoever you are – you'd better take care of her, or you'll have me to answer to.'

Lee tipped his hat.

'That I can promise,' he answered. 'Thanks for the information.'

Bernie glared at him one last time, and then opened the door and went back to the kitchen, his daemon scurrying ahead. Lyra watched him go, rather sadly. Pantalaimon turned himself into a cat and twined round her ankles.

'Come on,' Lee said quietly, tapping her on the shoulder. 'Let's get out of here and decide what's next.'

Author's Notes:

Bernie Johansen - Allen Leech

I've re-read my copy of 'His Dark Materials' and researched it online, but I was unable to find any information about what Bernie's daemon settled as. I've always imagined him as quite a shy individual, hence my choice of a red squirrel.

Confession time... one of the principle reasons I began this story was that I wanted to explore what conflict between Lee and Hester might look like. When the TV series commenced, I watched an interesting interview with Lin-Manual Miranda who said that Lee knows exactly who he is. Given the closeness between Lee and Hester, I thought this was accurate. Now, all of a sudden, Lee doesn't know precisely who or what he is, and his struggles are being expressed through Hester. She's got her own reasons for being unhappy about what's occurred... but you'll have to read on to find out what they are.

Till next time, dear readers!