The rest of the evening passed by in the manner of death by a gunshot to the gut: protracted and excruciating.

Lee alternately tended to the stew and brooded. Serafina, strangely composed, took care of her weapons and stepped outside briefly to talk to Iorek. The wolves divided themselves, most lingering near Lyra's makeshift bedroom but Rattail and Tracker sticking close to Lee.

The daemons were behaving oddly, had Lee been in a humour to notice. Since his final snarled words to Hester, all three – Pantalaimon, in the form of a tawny owl, Kasia and Hester – had been huddled together in a corner, holding an intense conversation pitched too low even for Lee's newly acute hearing to make out. Whatever it was, it was generating strong feelings, judging by the exclamations and foot-thumping from Hester that resulted.

Lee paid them little mind, preoccupied by his gloomy musings. He wondered if he'd manage to sleep tonight, have one last night as a wolf. He wondered if becoming a man again, only a man, would bridge the chasm that had opened up between him and Hester.

He wondered if Lyra would ever forgive him for what she so clearly believed was an abandonment. For a lonely girl with a missing father, it might be an irredeemable wrong.

After a few hours had dragged by, Lee went to check on Lyra, but she was curled up on her side, facing away from the den. She didn't respond to him when he spoke, advising dinner was ready, except to clamp her hands over her ears. He let her be and went to dish up the food, hoping hunger would lure her out, when he found himself waylaid.

'Lee,' said Hester, loping up to him. 'I need to talk to you, and it can't wait.'

Lee, taken aback, nodded and seated himself on the stone bench. Hester hopped up beside him.

'Lee, I think you ought to stay a wolfwalker,' she said. 'Wait – hear me out,' she added, as Lee began to speak. 'I know, I ain't exactly been supportive of the whole deal. Partly because I was frightened for you – and the other thing is…'

She faltered. Steeled herself. Spoke again.

'Lee, that first night, your first night as a wolf – I didn't know you were gone. I missed everything. I never thought I could bear to be separated from you for an instant, and you were gone for a whole night. And what do I do? I sleep. Like an idiot.' She paused to breathe and then hurried on. 'It was only towards morning when I woke, and you weren't stirring that I got worried. Even then, dumb me thought you were just out cold. It wasn't until – until…'

'Hester, is this why you've been harping on about not knowing me anymore?' Lee asked, something clicking into place in his mind. She nodded, shamefaced.

'Because it took you away. And I didn't know it. I've been wanting to get rid of it ever since, so it will never happen again. But it's breaking your heart to do this, Lee, and if your heart breaks – well, I'm in the same bind as before. Not knowing you anymore. I'd rather you were a wolf than a broken man.'

'Hester,' Lee began, not quite sure how to articulate all he was feeling, then deciding just to blurt it out. 'You crazy jackrabbit, you've been acting like you can't stand me because you thought you failed me somehow?'

'I'm not a damn jackrabbit,' Hester muttered. But Lee knew Hester, from the tips of her long black tipped ears to her furry clawed toes, and her lack of denial was the equivalent of a resounding yes from anyone else.

Lee dropped his head into his hands, more in exasperation than despair.

'Do you know how I've been torturing myself, leaving you behind that first night? How I thought you hated me for it?'

'At least you realised,' Hester cried, propping her forepaws on his knee so she could see his face. 'I didn't! You were gone, and I didn't know!'

'Hester,' Lee sighed, raising his head so he could look at her. 'I didn't know either – at first. I ran out after Lyra, and I didn't have a clue about anything. Being a wolf, that you weren't there – I only realised when I cast about for you. I'd never hold it against you.'

'I should've known better, Lee,' Hester muttered. 'Well – perhaps not. There's no instruction manual for this. But it's how I felt. I guess I thought making all this going away would fix things, but it ain't gonna. Besides, I had a long talk with Pan and Kasia just now. Seems Pan and Lyra went through something similar when she turned out to be a wolfwalker. He acted out, kept his distance, hated the whole thing, when it wasn't so much her being a wolf he was worried about as being cast aside. Kasia too, when Serafina first became a witch.'

'Rang a few bells, huh?'

'More than a few. Pan realised he was selling Lyra short. Ignoring how much she loved him. Guess I've been doing the same.'

'After all the apologies I made you? All the self-flagellation I've been doing?'

'I'm a numbskull, all right? You happy?'

'Can I have that in writing?'

'Dammit, Lee!'

Lee chuckled, and stroked Hester's ears. She nestled against his leg, eyelids drooping with relief.

'Hester, I'm making this up as I go,' Lee said. 'You're right about one thing – giving up being a wolfwalker would break my heart. But I can't do it without you beside me. I can't do anything without you.'

'You aren't gonna,' said Hester, nuzzling against him as she sometimes did when their emotions ran high. Trying to convey all her regrets and love and loyalty beyond any doubts. 'Serafina Pekkala was right – you are a wild one. Ain't my place to try and put chains on you. I'd only be hurting the both of us.'

'So, are we good?'

'We're good.'

Lee scooped his daemon into his arms without giving her time to protest and held her close. Hester pressed her proud form against him, and Lee's broken heart mended itself.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a long time. Neither of them noticed Pan turning into a stoat and creeping over to look at them, or Serafina taking the stew off the fire before slipping outside to talk to Iorek, and tell him all was well, or the wolves gathering soundlessly to sit near them and share in the sense of renewal and closeness, or Kasia, his work done, taking off into the night sky to drift over the woods and countryside, revelling in his freedom even as the bond between himself and Serafina remained strong and true.

But no-one, not even Serafina, not even Pantalaimon, noticed the small golden wolf running through the tunnel and out into the woods, by herself, wanting only to get away, be completely alone, to wrestle with her grief.

Sometime later, Lee relaxed his hold on Hester and let her jump down to the ground. He raised his head and was wryly amused to see the wolves watching. Serafina Pekkala was waiting by the fire, her eyes luminous and her face softly shaded in the thousand colours conjured by the flickering flames.

'I have kept dinner for you, Mr Scoresby,' she said.

'Thank you, ma'am,' he answered. 'And thanks for your assistance, but we won't be needing that ritual tomorrow. I'll be staying a wolfwalker.'

'I am very glad to hear it,' said Serafina, and her smile was genuine. 'Whatever magic dwells inside you and Lyra, there is not enough of it in the world. Why don't you rouse Lyra, and tell her?'

'I will,' said Lee with a sigh, wondering just how upset she was and how much grovelling he'd have to do. He walked over to her sleeping place. Pantalaimon, still in stoat form, scampered ahead of him and ducked under the curtain.

'Lyra, get up! Come on, I've got great news! Lyra? Lyra!'

A moment later he ran back out into the clearing.

'She's gone, Mr Scoresby! I mean, she's turned into a wolf and gone off without me!'

'Ah, hell!' Lee muttered. Serafina came to her feet in a trice.

'She knows better than this!' Pan shrilled, deeply disturbed. 'Asriel is always telling her, hunt in a pack or not at all!'

'I guess she wasn't thinking straight,' Lee muttered, silently cursing himself for a self-absorbed fool. He swivelled to face Serafina Pekkala. 'Ma'am, will you help us find her? These woods aren't safe at night, especially for a lone wolf.'

Serafina nodded and snatched up her cloud pine, leaping into the air and flying away as swiftly as a sparrowhawk.

'Hester, let's go,' said Lee. 'Pantalaimon, can you –'

'I can't go too far from Lyra, I have to stay near her body,' he cried. Lee winced at his pain but could offer no comfort.

'We'll bring her back safely,' he vowed, heading towards the passageway.

'Wait!' Pan called. 'Take the wolves with you! Tell them to hunt for Lyra.'

Lee halted midstride – why hadn't this occurred to him? He spun round, and saw all the wolves staring at him, tails down, ears pricked, aware of the shift in mood. He stared back, feeling an idiot, then shut his eyes and tried to recollect how he'd shown the wolves what Iorek looked like. Thinking at them, trying to get across what he wanted them to do…

'Keep it simple,' murmured Hester at his side. 'Nothing too fancy.'

So, Lee thought, Lyra, find, quick, careful, and thought it over and over. Within a few moments, Nose-scar barked in realisation, and when Lee opened his eyes the wolves were flowing around him, heading for the tunnel and out into the woods.

Lee and Hester followed them and scrabbled into the clearing before the escarpment to find Iorek waiting.

'What has happened, Lee?' he asked.

'Lyra's run off by herself, as a wolf,' he said shortly. 'We need to find her. There's hunters crawling all over these woods and she's not thinking clearly.'

'Neither were you,' Iorek observed.

'Yeah, well, my head's on straight now. You coming?'

Iorek rose to his feet by way of answer.

Lee strode off, trusting the armoured bear to follow. He had no particular direction in mind but found himself following the route taken by Lyra and the wolves during their hunt, guessing that she was operating on instinct right now. Iorek walked behind him, eyes and ears alert for the merest sound or glimpse of golden fur.

They walked for perhaps a mile without finding anything. A wolf occasionally flitted in and out of view, perhaps checking on them or following some trail hidden from Lee and Iorek. Lee was just beginning to think they were on the wrong track when Hester came to a halt, ears quivering.

'Lee, there's a ruckus up ahead,' she whispered.

Lee heard it a moment later: low voices, the clang of metal, the stomping of horses, the snarl of some frightened creature –

He swore and took off in the direction of the sounds, Iorek lumbering behind him. Before he'd gone more than a few paces, Tracker appeared in front of him, checking his progress. The wolf was crouched close to the ground, tail down and ears pinned back, and he whined at Lee.

Somehow, Tracker's intent communicated itself: slow. Stalk. Ambush.

'Hang on everyone, Tracker wants us to go in slow, sneak up on them,' Lee translated, mostly for Iorek's benefit. He had a feeling Hester knew what Tracker was driving at.

'Wolf's got a point,' Hester said. 'We don't even know how many there are – or even if Lyra's up ahead.'

Lee was damned tempted to say to hell with it and go storming in regardless, but he knew it would be idiocy. He forced himself to slow down and think.

'Iorek, you'd better wait here,' he whispered. 'If things come to fighting and you're spotted, the authorities will be down on you like buzzards on a carcass.'

'Hmph. You expect me to hide like a cub? You insult me, Scoresby,' growled Iorek, his eyes glinting with temper.

'No, I don't,' Lee said, aware that only their long-standing friendship was preventing Iorek from flattening him with a single blow of his paw. 'I'm trying to prevent the Council and the Magisterium descending on us like lightning from the heavens. You attract attention, in case you hadn't realised. One story about you attacking some poor defenceless hunters and…'

Iorek, as Lee hoped, saw the sense in this, and nodded.

'Wait here, then,' the aeronaut murmured. 'You're the cavalry. If I yell your name, then come running.'

Iorek grunted assent, and Lee and Hester began making their stealthy way towards the disturbance. Tracker went on before them, guiding them, and it was only a minute before they saw movement ahead.

Lee ducked behind a tree and peered out. Hunters – four of them. All armed. Three with rifles, one with a shotgun. He'd faced worse odds, but he'd prefer better. They were clustered around something, talking and gesticulating in the flicking light cast by their anbaric torches. Two horses, one of which looked remarkably like Lee's borrowed steed from a few nights ago, were waiting patiently to one side.

Then one of the men walked off to search for something in a saddlebag, and Lee saw what the men were clustered around. A steel trap, a huge one, plenty large enough for a full-grown wolf, with a wire mechanism and a formidable padlock holding the gate shut.

But the wolf inside wasn't a fully grown one. It was on the small side for a wolf, slender and its fur was an unusual shade of old gold. It crouched in a corner of the cage, snarling ferociously.

'Ah, hell,' muttered Hester wrathfully.

Something broke free inside Lee: a monster made of mad, black rage. It took all his strength to contain it. The sheer effort left him trembling, a cold sweat dusting his forehead as though death's hand had brushed his face and left its shallow imprint there.

'Steady now, Lee,' murmured Hester, though when he glanced down, he could see her quivering with tension. 'We need to play this carefully. We can't afford a fight. Too much chance of Lyra getting hurt.'

'So, what do we do?'

'Get someone to cause a distraction while we get her out of the cage. We won't need more than a minute.'

'That lock on the trap is pretty solid-looking.'

'Shoot it off.'

Lee nodded and looked down at Tracker, waiting with eager impatience by his side.

'This is going to be dangerous, buddy,' Lee warned him. Tracker tilted his head to one side as if to say so what?

'Okay, here goes,' murmured Lee, and thought at Tracker. He tried to get across what he wanted: the wolves, surrounding the hunters, howling, making a noise, keeping their distance, leading them on a futile chase through the trees, letting him grab Lyra and make a run for it.

Tracker listened – well, not listened exactly, but comprehended what Lee was asking. He whined agreement and vanished into the undergrowth.

The howls sounded a mere minute later. Boy, could those wolves howl. They were every cliché in the book: blood-curdling, glass-shattering, spine-tingling, skin-crawling. They came from every compass point, rising towards the treetops and the sky in a wild crescendo.

It was almost amusing to see the hunters forget whatever they were chunnering about and whirl around, scrambling to reload their rifles, trying to light up the dark woods with their torches in a futile effort to pinpoint the source of the sound. And it was painful to see Lyra-as-wolf stop growling and stare hopefully round, sensing rescue was on the way. Lee made himself hold perfectly still, and wait, as the hunters' panic grew.

'What the hell's going on?'

'– never heard such a racket –'

'Are they hunting?'

'Bloody unnatural beasts!'

As he'd hoped, the hunters, to a one, loaded their guns and began to trek into the woods, searching for the source of the disturbance. Lee waited until they had all moved out of sight, forced himself to count down another minute for safety, and then bolted for the trap holding Lyra.

'Hey kid,' he called softly, running up and sliding to his knees before the cage door. She yipped with joy and pawed at him through the bars.

'Easy now,' he said, examining the lock. 'And get back! I'm probably going to have to shoot this off.'

Lyra retreated. Lee prodded at the padlock – galvanised steel, worse luck. A bullet would only scratch it and might injure Lyra if it ricocheted. What he really needed were bolt-cutters, but he might as well wish for the moon. Picking the lock was a possibility but would take too long. Only one thing for it.

'Iorek!' Lee called, glad the wolves were still howling, to cover the sound of his voice. 'Iorek, old fellow!'

The great bear loomed into view a moment later, eyes scanning round for potential threats. Lee beckoned him over and gestured at the padlock.

Iorek, no fool, took one look at the lock and sniffed in disgust. He lifted his mighty forepaw to knock it off with a single blow.

'I wouldn't do that,' said a man's voice, light and pleasant-sounding.

Lee whirled round, rising to his feet and drawing his revolver in one smooth movement. It was dark as pitch in the woods, but Lee found he could see well enough by the light of the few stars peeping down through the leaves.

Alderman Danvers was standing beside the horses, dressed in his signature black, though without his ceremonial sash and chain. Despite confronting an armed man and an armoured bear in the middle of the night, miles from safety, he showed no signs of fear, or any emotion other than mild annoyance.

'Mr Danvers,' said Lee. The annoyance increased a notch from mild to moderate.

'Ah, Mr Scoresby, our reluctant hunter,' drawled Danvers. 'Fancy meeting you here. And in the company of the panserbjørn, too. I might have known you were a scoundrel.'

'Never made claim to be anything else.'

Danvers's cool expression twisted into one of petulant anger and his daemon, perched on his shoulder, chittered and stamped her feet in fury.

'Step away from that cage, both of you,' Danvers said, eyes blazing, giving him a manic look.

Lee strained his ears, listening for sounds of hunters or Magisterium forces hiding in the undergrowth, a weapon being readied, a vehicle of some kind approaching. He could hear nothing untoward, but Danvers was entirely too confident for a solo, unarmed man. Iorek was obviously thinking along the same lines, as he held himself still in readiness for a fight. Behind them, Lyra paced uneasily. Two steps left, two steps right.

'And if we don't?' Lee queried, raising his revolver. He had a clear shot at Danvers. He hoped the man would be cowed by a show of force. He hated shooting unarmed opponents.

Danvers smirked.

'I have warriors, trained by the Magisterium, in readiness nearby. But there is no need to risk them in a firefight with you,' he said, smilingly. 'Rank hath it's privileges, you know. Have you heard of spy-flies, Mr Scoresby?' he asked, almost purring over the words.

'Yeah,' answered Lee, who had. 'Nasty little beggars. Powered by evil spirits.'

'Well, permit me to introduce you to their near-relation,' said Danvers, reaching into his jacket pocket. 'Their official name is the Servants of Azrael, but our more irreverent souls refer to them as stingers.'

He held up a clenched fist. A reptile's smile unfurled over his features as he opened his fingers to reveal what looked like a huge hornet – head, swollen abdomen, spindly legs – worked in bronze. It sat twitching on Danvers's palm, filigree wings fluttering. Even at this distance, in the dark of the forest, Lee could make out the sting – two inches long, made of some silvery metal. It had a cap on the end, which Danvers now reached up to remove.

'Mechanical assassins,' he drawled. 'Each equipped with sufficient venom to kill two grown men – and inflict a tremendously painful wound on your pet bear.'

Iorek growled, teeth bared. Danvers didn't so much as flinch.

'Playing about with dark magic, Mr Danvers?' asked Lee, with a coolness he was far from feeling. 'Strange, for a law-abiding man such as yourself. You'll be in trouble with the Magisterium when they learn about this.'

'Is that a threat, Mr Scoresby?'

'An observation.'

Another silence – at least, everyone involved in the stand-off was silent. The woods were remarkably noisy. The trees whispered in the wind. Somewhere, an owl hooted. The wolves continued to howl.

'It's true,' Danvers acknowledged as the pause in their bizarre conversation threatened to drag on for longer than was reasonable. 'Stingers are not approved of by certain sectors of the Magisterium. Dabbling with evil spirits – not really above board, is it? Counter to the principles on which our entire society is founded: humility, sacrifice, self-discipline…'

'I'm sure you're a paragon of virtue in that regard,' said Lee.

'Oh, but I am,' answered Danvers, quite seriously. 'You see, Mr Scoresby, sometimes evil must be pressed into the service of good. In this case, it's to oust a greater evil. An evil that is a beast, wearing the sacred form of man and his daemon.'

Lyra whimpered. Lee held steady, though the sound tore at his heart.

'Not sure I'm following you, Mr Danvers,' Lee said, doing his best lost-confused-help-me-out-here impression, hoping to stall the man while he thought of something. A bluff, but it worked.

'They have many names – werewolves, berserkers, loup-garou, though around these parts they are known as wolfwalkers,' Danvers answered. Now, here was a man who loved the sound of his own voice, thought Lee, as he reached behind himself with his free hand and jabbed a finger at the lock on Lyra's cage, knowing Iorek would see it and divine his meaning. He shuffled a little to one side, hoping to shield the bear's actions from Danvers's eyes.

'They are ungodly creatures,' continued Danvers, eyes unfocused as he warmed to his theme. 'Beasts who wear human skin. An abomination, and an affront to all that is righteous. It is my purpose, Mr Scoresby, to eliminate their foul presence from the earth. To cast out this evil, I have availed myself of a lesser evil.'

'I guess that depends on your perspective,' Lee remarked, spine tensing as he heard Iorek prying at the padlock – and the metallic crack of it breaking. The sound carried, but although Danvers's daemon sat up suddenly, nose twitching, the Alderman himself didn't react.

'Perspective is for artists, Mr Scoresby. It onlymuddies the waters in moral matters. I will perform a great service to the world by eliminating the… wolfwalkers,' said Danvers, pronouncing the last word with such contempt that Lee was surprised that he wasn't spitting venom.

The wolves had fallen silent. Lee knew that he'd have to make a move soon or they'd be outnumbered as well as prey for the stinger.

'It's not too late, Mr Scoresby,' Danvers continued, eyes roving over Lee with feverish assessment. 'You're obviously a fighter. Lend your skills to the service of the Council. Redeem whatever sins you have committed in your lifetime.'

Lee pretended to consider. Behind him, he could sense Iorek tensing in preparation.

'Get Lyra and get out of here,' he whispered to the bear, so low he could scarcely hear himself, safe in the knowledge Iorek could make out the words. Then, louder: 'I'm afraid I'll have to decline, Mr Danvers, seeing as how I'm of the Devil's party and have no plans to amend that.'

Danvers shrugged.

'Oh, well. I tried,' he said. Then, to the stinger: 'kill them all.'

And then several things happened at once.

Iorek, who had already broken the padlock, wrenched open the cage. Lyra bolted for freedom. The stinger took off from Danvers's as fast and straight as an arrow. Lee fired off a shot.

Lee had been aiming at Danvers, but the bullet clipped the stinger's metallic wings, beating so furiously that they were bronze blurs in the night air. The stinger went spinning off course. The bullet ricocheted and embedded itself in a tree.

Danvers dived for cover. Lee fired another shot and winged him on the shoulder – he heard the man's decidedly impious curse before he dodged behind the horses, both of which were rearing and stamping in fear.

'Run, Iorek!' Lee called. 'Get Lyra and the pack somewhere safe.'

Iorek didn't hesitate but ran after Lyra as Lee fired a warning shot to keep Danvers down. Lee scanned the trees, planning to run after Lyra and Iorek provided the coast was clear.

It wasn't.

Two hunters came charging up, alerted by the gunfire. Lee fired again: he hit the first man in the arm. He screamed and dropped his shotgun, his wildcat daemon yowling in dismay. The second man skidded to a halt, his hawk daemon flying to perch on a branch overhead and brought his weapon – a handsome bolt-action rifle – to his shoulder.

Lee ducked behind the trap. The hunter fired and the bullet struck one of the steel bars, making a ringing noise not unlike a church bell. Lee peered out from behind the cage, saw the man take aim, pulled back just in time. The bullet's passage parted his hair.

'This boy's got talent,' he muttered to Hester.

'Doesn't matter, he's got to reload sometime. Wait until he does, and then we run. You've plenty of bullets left for cover.'

'You see Iorek and Lyra?'

'Nah, but they got away safely. Heard 'em go.'

Lee's relief was so violent that it hurt. It was short-lived.

Hester's long ears twitched, and she peered through the bars of the cage.

'Lee, look alive,' she whispered. 'That stinger is crawling up the bars on the other side of the cage.'

'Damn. Does the little bastard know where we are?'

'Don't think so. Your shot must've damaged it.'

'What are the hunters doing?'

'One's trying to bind his arm up. The other's waiting for a clear shot.'

'Danvers?'

'Not sure. He's hiding somewhere.'

'So long as he stays hid.'

'So, what now?'

'We need to get that hunter to use up his bullets, or else take him out. He's fifteen yards away. He's not using any cover.'

Lee twisted himself round and saw she was right. The hunter was aiming his rifle, waiting patiently for the right moment. No fool, this one – except perhaps his overconfidence. In the dark, with Lee pinned down, reinforcements probably on the way, he didn't feel the need to conceal himself. Lee brought his arm up and aimed through the bars of the trap.

'Hester? Mind providing a distraction?' he asked. His tone was casual, but both of them knew how high the stakes were.

'Doesn't look like I have much of a choice,' she sniped. She crouched in readiness. Leapt out from cover. Leapt back.

The bullet struck the dirt where Hester had been a heart-thump prior. Time seemed to slow as the hunter drew back the bolt to load a new bullet into the chamber. Lee took a half-breath. Adjusted his aim. Fired.

The bullet struck the man in the abdomen, throwing him backwards. His daemon shrieked but didn't vanish. Injured then, not dead. Lee rose to his feet, mindful that a wounded man could still prove deadly. But the hunter had let go of his rifle and was pressing his hands to the bloody hole in his side.

'Let's go!' cried Hester.

Lee bolted for the trees, Hester alongside him. Behind them, they could hear the thud of heavy boots as the other hunters came running, and Danvers shrieking 'curse you, follow them! Kill them!'

'Remember to serpentine!' Hester said.

'Damnit, Hester, this ain't the first time I've done this!'

'And if that ain't a sorry thing to admit, I don't know what is!'

Lee grinned and speeded up. He had no clear plan in mind, other than finding a safe spot and hiding until the hunters gave up their search. But a high-pitched mechanical whine changed his mind for him.

'Down, Hester!'

Lee flung himself to the forest floor and rolled onto his back, revolver at the ready, trying to pinpoint the stinger through the noise it was making. It buzzed straight over him, and for a horrible moment he thought it had forgotten him and was going for Iorek or Lyra.

'It's landed on a tree behind us – the big ash tree,' whispered Hester. 'Reckon it's targeting system or whatever it hunts with has been damaged.'

Lee twisted round uncomfortably and spied the tree Hester mentioned, a graceful structure twining its branches towards the sky. His eyes picked out the stinger, its damaged wings still twitching, the feeble light of the stars reflected off its bronzed exterior.

'Move slow, don't alert it,' murmured Hester. Lee extended his arm, taking careful aim. If he missed, he wasn't sure he'd get a second chance.

Of course, that would be when the two other hunters came charging up.

Lee froze. It was an instinctive reaction, his brain uncertain whether to proceed with his current action and shoot the stinger or battle the hunters. But a few moments later, he realised it was the best thing he could have done. He was lying on the forest floor, half hidden by scrub, dressed in dark clothing, with only the light of the stars and the narrow beams of the hunter's torches illuminating the scene. He held perfectly still, and waited as the men went clomping past, their footsteps loud, their breathing stertorous, even their daemons – a retriever and a ferret – rustling the leaves as they ran.

The hunters ran off into the night. Lee lay there for a handful of seconds, to make sure the coast was clear. He'd take out the stinger once they were a decent distance away, and then run for it –

Iorek's battle-roar ripped the night open. The stinger leapt off the tree, into their air and buzzed away.

'Son of a bitch,' said Lee. He jumped to his feet and ran in the direction Iorek's roar had emanated from.

He didn't have to run far before he stumbled upon the brawl taking place. He heard an angry snarl, and a second later he had to leap aside as one of the unfortunate hunters came flying towards him. The man landed in a heap, his ferret-daemon clinging to his coat, and lay unmoving. He was either unconscious or too smart to try again and Lee left him be.

Up ahead, Iorek was facing off with the last remaining hunter. The man was standing his ground, pointing his rifle at Iorek, but his retriever daemon was hiding behind his legs, snarling. Lee found he could smell the man's fear, the sweat pouring off him. He had good reason to be scared. In his armour, Iorek had little to fear from bullets unless one struck him in the eye. There was almost no chance of a killing shot.

Lee cast about for the stinger but couldn't hear or see it.

'Hester, try and find the stinger,' he whispered to her, and strode forward, revolver at the ready.

'I'd drop that rifle, were I you,' he said to the hunter, aiming at the man's head.

The man saw Lee, realised he was beaten, and stopped aiming at Iorek, holding his rifle by its barrel and taking his other hand off the trigger. He held his empty palm up in a placating gesture.

'Rifle on the ground,' said Lee. 'Move slow, now. After you've put it down, I want you to step backwards.'

The hunter carefully lowered the gun to the ground as instructed, before taking two large strides backwards, hands still in the air.

'Iorek? Bust that rifle,' Lee said, and at once the whine of twisting metal filled the air. The hunter winced.

'Right, sir,' said Lee. 'My friend and I are walking out of here and you're going to wait quietly until we're out of sight and hearing. Any attempt to follow, any attempt to rally the troops after us and I'll shoot you like a dog. Understand?'

The man nodded. Lee glanced at Iorek, who took the hint at once and began to retreat. Lee kept his revolver trained on the hunter for a few moments more, before beginning to step backwards in the same direction as Iorek. Once they were out of sight, they could make a run for it…

'There! Shoot them! Shoot them all!'

It was Danvers – and six, no, eight men, all armed. All wearing the black uniforms of the Magisterium. Danvers was wild-eyed, blood welling up between his fingers where he'd clamped his hand to his shoulder. The men he'd summoned were silent, expressionless, their daemons mastiffs and Dobermans and Alsatians. They advanced towards Lee and Iorek in a line, raising their rifles.

Lee and Hester raced for cover. Iorek roared his defiance, and the men all fired at him.

Most of the shots clanged uselessly off the iron armour. One opened a gash on Iorek's right foreleg, but he didn't seem to notice. He ceased roaring and charged straight towards the Magisterium guards.

Most scattered. One ran directly towards the beech tree Lee had concealed himself behind, and Lee felled him with a punch to the jaw he never saw coming. Two stood their ground: they and their daemons were tossed aside as if they weighed no more than kindling. One smacked into a tree with an unpleasant crack of breaking bones, the other hit the ground hard and lay winded.

Another man dodged back out of range of Iorek's forepaws and pointed his rifle at the bear again. Lee took aim with his revolver and shot the man in the leg. He collapsed to the forest floor and his rifle fired uselessly into the air, his daemon howling in pain.

'Four left,' he muttered. The one remaining hunter had done the smart thing and scarpered.

'And Danvers,' said Hester. 'Right, there's two at ten o'clock – ah hell, that stinger's back!'

Lee heard the sharp metallic whine a moment later. He cursed and peered out from his cover, trying to espy the demonic thing.

'Iorek, look alive, the stinger's buzzing round!' he shouted. He'd given away his position, but there was no other choice, not if he wished to warn Iorek. He scanned the woods for their enemies. Two guards had followed his lead and had found cover amongst the trees (he could hear them reloading, a new ability he was grateful for), one was crouched low, searching vainly for a weak spot in Iorek's armour as the bear advanced on him, the other had seized hold of Danvers and was trying to drag him away from the scene (he was putting up a lot of fight for a meek little bureaucrat) and the stinger –

Iorek bellowed, a cry so filled with raw agony that Lee's entire being convulsed with terror. His breath was stolen, and all his muscles seemed to have melted. Beside him, Hester shook with phantom pain.

Lee forced his unwilling gaze back towards Iorek. The stinger was clinging to Iorek's left foreleg, having just injected its poison, and as Lee watched the injured limb collapsed, sending Iorek sprawling on the ground.

Two of the remaining guards, sensing an advantage, left cover and began stalking forward. The one crouched down before Iorek swung his gun towards where Lee was hiding, and he ducked back behind his tree. He could hear the one remaining man restraining the raving Danvers.

'Keep hidden,' whispered Hester. 'We're going to have to be smart about this. Wait till I give say so and then swing round the tree and shoot.'

'He's got the drop on me.'

'Yeah, but you're faster than you were. Faster than most men. Just don't fire too early. Don't matter how fast you are if you miss your shot.'

Lee nodded and prepared for what could well be his final shootout. He'd escaped dire situations before, through skill and daring and good companions and dumb luck, but now he felt the hazards and the risk as jaggedly as if a knife were at his throat. What would become of Lyra, if he were killed? Who would take care of her, and help her?

He couldn't think of that now, because if he did, he'd start screeching like an owl. Lee braced himself, took one last deep breath and prepared to fight his way free or die in battle –

Had he not been a wolfwalker, Lee would not have heard the hard huh from the guard approaching him. It was a quiet, unmistakeable sound, one he had heard before. It was the gasp a man makes as he is stabbed in the back, as all the breath leaves his lungs.

Lee looked out, and saw Serafina Pekkala, her knife buried up to his hilt in the hunter's flesh. She yanked it out, and the man dropped to the ground, his daemon dissolving into nothingness.

The two guards advancing on Iorek tried to turn round, aim their guns, but Serafina moved faster than thought. Moments later they lay dead on the ground, their throats leaking blood, their daemons gone.

Lee turned to look for Danvers and his bodyguard, but the guard must have succeeded in carrying the Alderman out of there while he was distracted. Of the four surviving men, two were unconscious, one was on the ground, moving feebly as he tried to recover from the blow Iorek had dealt him, and the last one was binding strips of his torn shirt around the wound in his leg. His daemon growled as she stared at Lee but made no move to attack.

Serafina stepped over to Iorek and examined his injured leg. She closed her hand on something and gave a sharp tug. Iorek bellowed in pain. Serafina held up the stinger in her clenched hand, an expression of disgust on her face.

'Place it on the ground and step back, ma'am,' asked Lee. Serafina did so, and Lee promptly shot two rounds into it. It splintered into a dozen different fragments of bronze shrapnel with a final protesting screech of metal on metal. Serafina looked over the debris, and, wrapping her hand in a fragment of black silk, picked up the lethal silver sting. She secreted it somewhere about her person. Lee nodded approval before turning to the two conscious men.

'You Magisterium boys, all that have survived,' he said. 'You can leave with your lives. But if you ever come back to these woods, you'll die, and I ain't guaranteeing it'll be quick.'

'We are soldiers of the Magisterium. We do not fear death,' hissed the man with the hole in his leg. Lee rolled his eyes.

'Good for you. But if you've got any sense, you'll be afraid of dying a pointless death, and that's what happened to your friends here,' he said. 'Whatever the Council and the Magisterium have told you you're fighting for is a load of shit.'

He didn't bother arguing further, instead turning to Iorek and Serafina.

'Iorek, old fellow,' he asked, urgency in his voice. 'Can you move? Danvers will be back with reinforcements, I guarantee it, and even Serafina Pekkala might struggle holding off dozens of men. No offense, ma'am.'

'None taken,' she answered with the ghost of a smile.

'I can move,' Iorek grunted. 'But not far. My strength is leaving me.'

'We need to get him back to Lyra, have her heal him,' said Hester.

'Back to the den,' murmured Lee. 'Ma'am, do you know if Lyra –'

'I found her running through the woods and escorted her back to the den, Mr Scoresby,' interrupted Serafina. 'She is waiting for us there. My daemon is watching over her.'

Something slackened inside Lee and let him breathe a little easier.

'Thank you, ma'am,' was all Lee could find to say to Serafina. But he had the feeling she understood him perfectly.

'Let's get moving,' he said, and waited as Iorek began heaving himself, slowly, painfully, to his three good feet.

Author's Notes: Lee's comment about 'being of the Devil's party' is taken from a quote by William Blake. He said of John Milton 'the reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels & God, and at liberty when he wrote of Devils & Hell, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it.'

I hope Danvers is suitably scary here - I was worried he was veering into pantomime-villain territory in this chapter, but he's a fanatic and has no capacity for doubt, so he's bound to be extreme. Let me know what you think.

Till next time, dear readers...