They retreated to Iorek's forge. The bear still hadn't returned, so they waited in the shed, eating the meat pies purchased from a baker's, and comparing notes.

'So, Mrs Coulter's planning to move your pa somewhere,' Lee mused in-between bites. 'Two days, Bernie said. Whatever we do, we've got to do it fast.'

'We need to break him out of there,' Lyra snarled, her fingers curling into a fist and squashing her pie into crumbs.

'Easier said than done, kid,' Lee said carefully. 'He's under heavy guard, and Mrs Coulter won't be taking any chances with security. We need more time to rescue him. We need to stop her taking him out of there.'

He paused to take a bite of his pie, chewing thoughtfully. Lyra licked the pieces of her pie off her hand. Lee rolled his eyes and handed over one of his new handkerchiefs.

'I wonder if this Mrs Coulter is doing this on the Council's say-so,' he mused out loud. 'They're the ones funding the big wolf hunt, after all. They've probably got plans for your father.'

'Course she's doing it without the Council knowing,' Lyra said matter-of-factly as she cleaned her fingers. 'Otherwise she'd just send him by zeppelin or barge or something. She's using the Gyptians so's she can keep it as secret as possible.'

Lee blinked. Why hadn't he thought of that? You wanted fast, efficient delivery: you went with a courier. You wanted something kept secret, kept hidden, you spoke to a Gyptian.

'Which means she won't have Magisterium or Council security, unless she's managed to bribe or threaten them,' Lee murmured, a wild notion beginning to unfurl itself in his mind.

'Lee, why do I get the feeling you're about to do something stupid?' Hester enquired with practised weariness.

'Because I probably am,' Lee admitted. 'Lyra, I think we need to find out where this Mrs Coulter is staying and do some investigating.'

Lyra grinned at the prospect.

'But what about speaking to Iorek?' Hester piped up.

'I think it'll have to wait,' Lee admitted, finishing his pie and standing up, brushing off the crumbs. 'We don't know when he's coming back, and we're in a hurry. We'll try again tomorrow.'

'So, what now?' asked Pantalaimon, turning into a Bloodhound.

'We need to find out where this Mrs Coulter is staying,' Lyra said thoughtfully. 'Which will be difficult – unless…'

'Unless?' Lee prompted.

'We could just ask,' Lyra suggested. 'Ask Dr Van Buskirk. I bet he knows.'

#

Dr Julian Van Buskirk was in the habit of taking his meals at a small café near Bodley's Library. Lyra pointed him out through one of the lattice windows, before making herself scarce.

Lee and Hester scrutinised the café's clientele carefully but didn't spot anyone who might be working for the Magisterium. They were presumably only worried about Van Buskirk's activities in Jordan, not outside. Foolish, but it was to Lee and Lyra's advantage.

Lee entered the café and made a beeline for Dr Van Buskirk. He was younger than Lee had expected, perhaps in his late thirties or very early forties, a handsome man with dark skin and black hair. He was sitting alone, over a cup of tea and a sandwich that he was brooding over rather than eating, his daemon perched on the back of his chair. She was a barn owl, beautiful and ethereal, her fathomless eyes narrowed to slits as she observed Lee's approach.

'Dr Van Buskirk?' Lee asked needlessly. The man looked up, eyes widening in surprise as he saw who was addressing him. Lee sat down without being asked and leaned over the table to avoid being overheard.

'My name's Scoresby,' he said in low tones. 'I'll keep this quick, doctor – I understand you're being forced to work with a woman named Coulter.'

The good doctor's face hardened. His daemon shuffled on her perch, feathers fluffing up in anger.

'If you're here to relay more threats –' he said, accompanying the words with a glare that must have quelled even the most rambunctious under-scholar.

'Just the opposite,' Lee broke in, before the doctor could attract attention. 'I'm no friend to Mrs Coulter, or the Council. In fact, I am diametrically opposed to whatever they've got in mind for the wolves in the forest.'

Van Buskirk subsided, though he rested his clenched fists atop the table in clear warning.

'And what have you to do with the wolves in the forest?' he asked bluntly. 'You're a Texan, judging from your accent. You're rather a long way from home. And you're no scholar.'

'How'd you know?' Lee enquired. Van Buskirk offered the merest hint of a smile.

'You didn't introduce yourself as doctor, or professor. Scholars aren't usually that coy about their credentials.'

'Hmm, not bad,' muttered Hester.

'You're right there,' Lee answered, his own smile a little wider than Van Buskirk's. 'Look, Dr Van Buskirk, it would take too long for me to explain why I'm interested in the wolves, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I did. But suffice it to say I have a vested interest in protecting them.'

Lee felt Hester tremble where she was pressed against his ankle. He reached down to touch her, reassure her, and was reassured in turn when she nuzzled against his fingers.

Dr Van Buskirk watched him, then leaned backwards to listen as his daemon whispered in his ear. He turned back to Lee.

'What do you want from me?' he asked.

'Tell me where Mrs Coulter is staying,' Lee answered. 'And then keep your head down and do what she tells you for the time being, till you have a shot at getting clear without too much danger.'

'She's stopping at the Royal Hotel on Flood Street,' Van Buskirk answered at once. 'Top floor. I'm not sure for how long.' He paused, eying the holster at Lee's hip, revealed by his open coat.

'You look well prepared, but – Mr Scoresby, is it? Mr Scoresby, be very careful. She's a dangerous woman, and that daemon of hers is a menace.'

'I will. Thank you, Dr Van Buskirk,' Lee said, as he rose from the table. He was halted by Van Buskirk's hand on his arm. The man's antagonism had faded, and he looked harassed, and more than a little nervous.

'Wait – if I need to – to talk to you again, how do I find you?' Van Buskirk blurted. Lee smiled gently as he disengaged his arm.

'You should leave a message with the armoured bear who's taken up residence here,' Lee informed him, rather enjoying the awed expression this generated. 'He'll find me sooner or later.'

He nodded farewell and strode out of the café, aware Van Buskirk was watching him leave, but not at all apprehensive that he was doing so.

'What do you think of him?' he asked Hester as soon as they were outside.

'Seems like a decent sort, as far as I can judge in five minutes,' Hester answered. 'I don't think he signed on for this. Kinda like us.'

'Well, he's up to his eyeballs in it – also like us,' Lee answered, and Hester's ears drooped. 'Hey, Hester, don't take it so hard. We'll get through this. You and me, remember?'

'If you say so,' Hester murmured. 'Not to mention your wolf-girl, Lee.'

'Yeah, let's go find her and get moving,' Lee said. 'We've got a visit to pay.'

#

Lyra found them, as it turned out. She dropped down from the wall where she'd perched with Pantalaimon and fell into step beside them with ease. And she knew the Royal Hotel well, having done battle with the younger hotel porters there more than once.

'They said I was a wimp who spent all her time waiting on the scholars,' Lyra grinned as they made their way to the hotel. 'I made them pay! Me and Roger pretended to run to the canal, only once they chased us there our friends pushed them in! They had to go back to work with their fancy uniforms dripping and covered in weed.'

Lee chuckled.

'Anyone ever tell you you're a barbarian, Lyra?' he asked affectionately.

'Lots of people,' she said proudly. Even Hester sniggered at that.

The Royal Hotel was located in central Oxford, and was an elegant building ornamented with white stucco, statues and flags wherever a flag could be hung from. It was crammed with guests in business suits and chic dresses, porters bearing luggage, messenger boys, hotel staff and hangers-on, trying to flog cheap trinkets to tourists or serve as impromptu tour guides.

Lee regarded it dubiously. There was no way he'd be able to go unnoticed in that kind of environment, especially if he had to make it all the way to the top floor.

He expressed this thought to Lyra, who surveyed the hotel coolly.

'I think I can get in there,' she said. 'If I only had the key to Mrs Coulter's room. Get me that, and I'll go in and look for something useful.'

'What? No way am I sending you in!' Lee protested, appalled by the suggestion. 'If you get caught, then –'

'Then I'll claim I was there because one of the porters dared me,' Lyra said, smirking as she began to plan her raid. 'I'll pretend to be a stupid kid and make a break for it when I can.'

'And if you can't?'

'You'll come and get me,' Lyra said with the airy unconcern that made Lee want to shake her until her teeth rattled. 'Look, I can get in there. I know how to get to the top floor without anyone seeing me. I just need the room key – and to know what room she's staying in. You keep watch in case Mrs Coulter's coming back and stall her for a bit.'

Lee scowled, not at all happy with this far-too-vague plan.

'We've not got many options here, Lee,' Hester pointed out. 'Not if you want to take action in the near future.'

'I don't like it,' Lee muttered, glaring at the impenetrable hotel. 'I'm supposed to be looking after you here, not sending you into the snake pit.'

'We're pack – we look after each other,' Lyra said firmly. 'Let me do this, Mr Scoresby. You've done enough already.'

Lee sighed. He wished there was another method available to them, but he knew Lyra would brook no delay. At least this way, he could keep an eye on her.

'You promise you'll skedaddle at the first sign of trouble, even if you haven't found anything? Say the words, Lyra.'

'I promise,' Lyra said, pouting a little.

'Right, come on then. First of all, I'll ask for Mrs Coulter at the front desk, make sure she's out. I'll try and sneak a look at their guest book, see where she's staying. About the key...'

'The housekeeper will have a master key,' Hester suggested. 'Not sure how you'll get your hands on it, though.'

Lyra's eyes lit up.

'I can manage that,' she said. 'I just need a few dollars. One of the porters has a lady friend who likes expensive things. He's always on the lookout for extra money. He'll slip me the key if I pay.'

'Not sure I should be encouraging this kind of behaviour,' Lee muttered, but he handed over five golden dollars, nonetheless. 'Okay, Lyra, wait out here until I find out what room Coulter is in and if she's out.'

Lyra nodded. Lee crossed his fingers and strode over to the hotel entrance.

'Here we go,' he muttered to Hester.

'Don't make too much noise. Keep as inconspicuous as possible,' she advised him. 'And Lee? Don't worry too much about Lyra. I have a feeling she can handle it.'

#

Mrs Coulter was out and would not return before dinner, the concierge sniffed, before acidly advising Lee that the tradesman's entrance would be more appropriate for him to use in future. Even his poodle daemon had its nose in the air. Lee took a great deal of pleasure in accidentally-on-purpose knocking a vase of flowers over and sending water cascading over the snob's impeccable uniform.

While the concierge was having an apoplectic fit over the damage done to his starched shirt, Lee grabbed the hotel guest book from its position behind the desk and found Mrs Coulter's room number – thirty-six. He replaced the book, bid the hysterical man a gleeful farewell and departed.

He found Lyra and relayed the information, and then watched with trepidation as she set off for the rear of the hotel, presumably to find the avaricious porter. He selected a nice alley, which would allow him to keep watch over the entrance and settled down to wait. Though perhaps settled was the wrong word.

'You're jumpy as a frog on hot coals,' Hester said after ten minutes of watching Lee fidget. 'You're getting awfully attached to Lyra, considering she's turned you into a wolf.'

'We don't know it was her,' Lee muttered. 'Or do you think she's lying about knowing how to make more wolfwalkers?'

'No,' Hester admitted, rather ungraciously. 'She's a good liar, I can tell, but I don't think she's lying about that. And her daemon's straightforward enough. But I don't get why you're not angrier about this. You've been turned into something unnatural. Not to mention becoming a target for every idiot with a gun between here and the White Sea.'

'So, what else is new?' Lee snarked. 'Plenty of men have wanted me dead. Some still do. And besides, whatever this is… it doesn't feel unnatural. It feels…strange. Weird. But not as if it's wrong.'

Hester stared at him, her great golden eyes unblinking.

'You like it,' she said. It was an accusation.

'I –' Lee began, forming a denial. It was a reflex action, intended to appease and he checked himself. He'd never been anything other than honest with Hester, no matter how painful it was.

'Yes,' he told her at last. 'Yes, I liked it. Everything about it. The speed, how strong I was, running with the pack. The hunt. Everything – except that you weren't with me. That cut me deep, Hester. I wasn't right, I wasn't whole, until I got back to you. Wolf or man, I want you near me.'

Hester didn't respond at once, instead staring across the street towards the Royal Hotel. Lee resumed his watch, feeling the silence as though it were a guillotine about to descend between them. The seconds fell and accumulated. One minute, two, five…

'This isn't you, though, Lee,' Hester said. Lee jumped.

'I mean, I don't think I know you anymore,' Hester continued, turning her back on him and Lee's heart broke – a tiny little crack, no thicker than a pencil line, indiscernible to anyone but himself. 'You're a man, not an animal. The Lee I know would never have left me behind or gone running through the woods all night without a thought for me. That's what a beast does. Not a man.'

'I'm still your Lee, Hester,' he said, voice quiet and uninflected, lowering his head so his hat brim would shield his face from onlookers. 'I never meant to leave you behind. I just assumed you were with me. And I thought about you. Every moment last night, all though the running and the hunting. Every moment, hoping you were all right and not afraid.'

'Words, words. How little they mean, when they come too late,' Hester sing-songed. It was only then that she turned round and caught sight of Lee's face.

'Lee –' she began, ears flat along her back in contrition.

'Mr Scoresby!'

Lyra came running up behind him, face flushed and her expression triumphant, Pantalaimon running alongside her as a stoat. Lee spun round, arranging his face and mastering his anguish, to greet her.

'Lyra!' he exclaimed. 'You all right?'

'Absolutely fine,' she beamed. 'And I have lots to tell you!'

'Great, but not here. Come on, let's get back to the den before it gets too late. We'll grab dinner on the way.'

Lee led the way out of the alley, Hester loping alongside, trying vainly to catch his eye. But he didn't look at her once, not for the entire journey back to the forest.

Author's Notes: And so the angst ratchets up a notch... will it get better soon? I'm not going to say, because I'm cruel like that.

Till next time, dear readers...