Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials Series.

A/N: And voila chapter 38. I'm still working out what exactly is going to happen next, but here we are. It was fun to write this chapter and to be around Oxford. I pulled out the map that comes with Lyra's Oxford and was able to elaborate on more details :)

Thanks for reading!

Luxurious Lies

38.

Ambivalent Allegiance

They didn't have a lot of time. Putting up her hood and taking Lyra's hand, Mrs. Coulter stepped off the boat and walked briskly forward.

"Where're we going?"

"Shh."

The truth was that, in part, Mrs. Coulter didn't really know. She was getting help from an old acquaintance she had written to before they'd left Trollesund. He was a scholar who used to work at Jordan College before transferring over to Wordsworth on the north side of the city. Jordan was the leading college on experimental theology, of course, but Mrs. Coulter's acquaintance had wanted to study the humanities, which Wordsworth was better able to accommodate. He'd always been gifted with words, and with his… mouth.

They crossed the river by taking Walton Well Road and continued to walk eastward, the golden monkey still hiding in Mrs. Coulter's furs while Pan walked beside them as brown terrier. Simple and inconspicuous, Mrs. Coulter thought, feeling herself smile. Lyra had learned some survival skills out in the North, and they certainly would come in handy over the next few weeks.

They were currently in the underdeveloped quarter of town, which was ironically located near the Gyptian dwellings. Not a lot of people were out at this hour, but the few who were sported drab clothes and puffs of cigarette smoke. It was more of a working-class district than anything. It was perfect because this was the last place anyone in the Magisterium would look to find her. Under normal circumstances, Mrs. Coulter wouldn't dare be caught in these parts.

As they passed the Eagle Iron Works and approached Woodstock Road, Mrs. Coulter urged Lyra to the left. They were almost there.

It's been a while since we were here. Mrs. Coulter felt her daemon's nostalgia as they walked down the road and neared the college. She had studied at St. Sophia's College, which was located just a few blocks east. Mrs. Coulter always hated the strict, no-nonsense atmosphere of the place, so she often traveled over to nearby Wordsworth. She'd sneak away after morning prayers to read in Wordsworth's quad, overhearing this conversation and that one, observing this person and that person. And, of course, she would chat with the boys there, admittedly admiring their attention as much as their ambition and knowledge.

Once they turned right onto a side street and reached a tall, handsome building, Mrs. Coulter took Lyra down an alleyway and then stopped in front of an iron door, knocking exactly once. It opened almost immediately.

"Marisa. How lovely to see you."

Smiling down at her was Wyatt Jasper, now a distinguished professor of rhetoric at Wordsworth. It'd been about fifteen years since Mrs. Coulter had last seen him, but he looked very much the same – tall, broad-shouldered, wavy brown hair, gently receding hairline, and warm brown eyes. He was as sincere as sincerity could come, which proved to be both a burden and an advantage.

"Likewise, Wyatt," she responded, offering her hand and smiling. "May I introduce you to Lyra?"

Lyra handled the introduction exceptionally well. She bowed her head and gave a small curtsy as Wyatt turned to her, engaging in the delightful pleasantries suited for such an occasion. It was nice to be among such polite talk for once.

After they went inside, Wyatt had the cook serve a small dinner for the guests, who ate quickly and then retreated to their room, Lyra growing sleepy.

"How long are we going to stay here?"

"For as long as we need to, darling. Now lift up your legs."

Mrs. Coulter didn't know how long they would stay and what they would do. This was just a stepping stone, a temporary plan for her get her bearings and make her next move. She no doubt had to contact the Magisterium. The alethiometer said they were growing suspicious now. She hadn't talked to the researchers still stationed at Bolvangar and hadn't been in contact with any of the General Oblation Board members. So, she'd have to do something, and soon.

But not tonight. Covering Lyra with the cotton sheet of the bed, Mrs. Coulter sighed and then stroked her daughter's hair, humming to her under her breath as the child slowly drifted off to sleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Are you done?"

Lord Asriel looked behind him to see Serafina hovering nearby, her dark eyes watching him carefully as he skinned the rest of the seal she had just shot.

How did this happen? As Lord Asriel discarded of the skin and packaged up the meat, he wondered what in the hell he was supposed to do now. Serafina had become a strange kind of scorned witch. She'd fallen for him, he'd rejected her, but she still persisted. And he had no choice but to accept it. His life was in danger, as was Marisa's.

Marisa. Stelmaria growled as Lord Asriel felt his heart twist. She'd never be safe with Serafina around. Most witches didn't concern themselves with human women, but Serafina had a special sore spot for Marisa after all she'd done. Not that he could necessarily blame her. Lord Asriel was equally as repulsed by some of the things Marisa has done, after all. But he still wanted to protect her, even though she very well could look after herself. And Lyra.

"Yes. Let's go." Slinging his rucksack over his back, Lord Asriel trudged ahead, Stelmaria at his side and Serafina in his shadow.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"That… Is quite something."

Mrs. Coulter and Wyatt were in his private study, glasses of wine in their hands. Wyatt's daemon was a lithe black panther, perched stolidly at his side as the golden monkey was seated neatly at Mrs. Coulter's feet. After Lyra had fallen asleep, Mrs. Coulter decided to tell Wyatt what was happening, though of course she left out a few details.

"I just don't know what to do." Normally Mrs. Coulter didn't play upon vulnerability, but she knew Wyatt; she knew this would work. He'd been kind to her when she was a teenager. He'd exercised mercy. He'd been gentle with her when she had seduced him and been his lover, gentler than most men she'd been with. He had a good heart.

Allowing emotion to cloud her eyes, she shook her head. "Everything is such a mess, and here I am – trying to protect this little girl."

Wyatt moved forward at that moment, putting a hand on Mrs. Coulter's back. "She's lucky to have you, Marisa. Asriel should be happy that you have his niece, not trying to spite you because of it."

Fool him, the golden monkey thought to her as she did what she always did best. Fool him, fool him, fool him. We've got him.

"I wanted her to have a proper upbringing, you know? Asriel never cared much for her, keeping her there at Jordan all those years. But now he's turned everyone against me and I fear for Lyra's safety."

"I'll make sure she's safe." Wyatt sat up a bit straighter, his hand still on Mrs. Coulter's back as his brown eyes bore into hers. "And you as well."

"I knew that we'd be safe with you."

It was almost too easy. Her gaze flickering from his eyes to his mouth, Mrs. Coulter leaned forward ever so slightly. Wyatt did as well, and then their lips touched. Soft and sweet. She had him.