Three nights later, the moon was a sliver in the sky and Lyra was crouched on a dock, waiting for a boat to go by.
Nera the mer-woman was only a shimmer in the dark water below. Lyra swallowed hard. Unusually for her, she was nervous about this one. If they were caught, it could have serious repercussions.
Pan was curled as an ermine around her neck, and nudged his nose against her as if to lend her courage.
"It'll be all right," he whispered. The misty shape of the gyptian boat was slowly resolving itself as it came nearer. Lyra could hear rough gyptian voices raised in argument, and she hid in the shadows behind some crates. A couple of men tied the boat up at the dock, and she drew in a quick breath when one came within inches of her hiding place.
"I say we throw it overboard!" The man's voice was heated. "It's a tool of the devil, mark my words."
The other man wasn't so sure.
"It could bring us bad luck. We of all people know not to offend the merfolk-"
Lyra grinned when she heard Ma Costa's voice, loud and authoritative, break through the argument.
"He's right, Alen! The merpeople've got to be respected. We can't throw it overboard like a piece of trash."
Lyra wished they would. It would make her job much easier. As it was-maybe she should take a chance.
Boldly, she stepped out of the shadows, Pan fluttering as a nervous sparrow to her shoulder.
"Hullo, Ma Costa."
The gyptian mother was caught by surprise, but she quickly overcame it. She stepped off the boat and onto the dock, catching Lyra up in her strong arms and giving her a sound box on the ear.
"Lyra Belacqua, what in the name of fishes are you doing out here?" Without waiting for an answer, she whisked Lyra inside the cabin, where everything was cozy and well lit by a fire in the hearth.
In between being fed and scolded, Lyra managed to explain-leaving out the parts about the chapel roof and sneaking into the Library. When she had finished, Ma Costa stood gazing at her thoughtfully. "Well, child, I suppose I'll give you the mer-girl's ornament. Merfolk don't usually speak to humans, you know." She went out onto the deck, and Lyra heard her haranguing someone before she returned, pressing something into Lyra's hand and busying herself at the hearth.
Lyra uncurled her fingers and looked at it. It was a silver figure of a mermaid about the length of her little finger, studded with gems and looped around with a chain to be worn as a necklace. The expression on her face was wild and strange. Lyra felt like she shouldn't really to look at it, so she fastened the chain around her neck where the mermaid could lie hidden under her shirt.
"Ma Costa, how'd you find it?"
Without turning around, she replied, "I can't say I know, child. The men brought it up in their nets four days ago."
Lyra thought that she ought to return to Nera. The mer-woman was probably worried by now.
"Ma Costa, I've got to go-but thanks for the food and all."
The gyptian mother turned around, concern lining her already careworn face. "Lyra, you've got adventures ahead of you. Be careful."
"I will." Lyra was out the cabin door in a flash and leapt onto the dock, landing with a satisfying wooden thud. She jumped down to the bank and pushed her way through the reeds to where Nera lay, her dark hair floating in the darker water. "Here it is!"
Nera raised her head and smiled. Lyra noticed with a shudder of creepy fascination that her teeth were slightly translucent.
"Thank you, Lyra! You are a gift to my people." Lyra undid the chain and fastened it on the mer-woman's graceful neck. "If you are ever in trouble on the waters of the world, drop this into the water." She undid a carved shell ornament from her finlike ear and gave it to Lyra, who looked at it with interest and then pocketed it. Nera's hand went up to touch her cheek.
"I wish you well, Lyra, and the goodwill of a mer-woman is not something to dismiss. I will come to your aid, should you ever need it."
With that, she turned and dove into the water with hardly a splash, leaving only ripples to mark that she had ever been there.
Lyra grinned to herself as she made her way up the bank. She was covered in mud, her skirt was torn in three places, and she was going to have an interesting time explaining all this to Roger.
On the whole, she'd never been so satisfied in her life.