"So why Hamburg?"
Lyra was lying on Ma Costa's bed. Ma took good care of her. Sha had given her a herbal tea to ease her cramps, sent her to take a bath, and served her a thick bowl of savory porridge. The gypsy woman was leaning over a hem of a dress she wanted Lyra to wear for the party. The young woman had agreed to attend to the ceremony and evening festivities but had warned that as soon as she could, she would take a zeppelin to the Northland. Will was getting closer, and just thinking about it made her heart race.
"As per our tradition, we went to fetch Lucia's family to formally ask for her hand from her community," Ma Costa replied. "Now that it's done, we're all sailing to Hamburg. There, we'll have a place to settle for the ceremony. Here, come and see."
Lyra got up, climbed onto a small stool, and took the dress that Ma Costa was handing her. It was a long, pale yellow floral dress. A set of flowers was finely embroidered on the front, forming a shiny, multicolored breastplate. Lyra was impressed by the delicacy of the embroidery.
"It's beautiful, Ma! Who made this dress?"
"My mom," the gypsy replied, placing the fabric against Lyra to check the length. "I wore it myself! It should be good."
Lyra took her place back on the mattress. She watched for a moment as Ma Costa put away her needles.
"Ma Costa?"
"Yes, love?"
"Have you ever heard of people separating from their daemons? I mean, intentionally..."
Ma looked up at the young woman.
"Well... yes. The witches, you and Pantalaimon..."
"No, I mean, for the witches, it's part of their rituals. For Pan and me, it's... different. But I'm talking about dæmons who would have willingly left their humans or the other way around."
The gypsy took a moment to think before answering:
"Actually, I once met a man who had separated from his dæmon. I don't know what had driven one or the other to leave. It's surprising to see that they could survive like that, I guess that feelings are sometimes stronger than reason... but the poor fellow, even if he was still valiant, he was pitiful to see. He was clearly weakened by this separation."
"Are they still bound together?"
"Yes, Lyra, it's an unbreakable bond even if they can't stand each other anymore. If one is in pain, the other is too. Even if they are miles apart..."
"If one dies, does the other die too?"
"I'm afraid so..."
"And can you 'adopt' another dæmon in that case?"
"No. You can get along and have another dæmon as a companion, I suppose, but you can't replace your own dæmon. Why are you asking me all this?"
Lyra thought of Nur and her frail silhouette always on the verge of fainting. Did she know that she and Ljubja were living on the edge? She looked at Pantalaimon, who had listened to the conversation attentively, and smiled at him softly.
"I met this girl in the Middle East where I was looking for Pan," she said. "She...she and her dæmon had been forcefully separated. I think there's a trafficking ring. People are kidnapping children and then taking their dæmons. They don't use technology like they did in...Bolvangar. But it still works. And then, that same girl met a lone dæmon who voluntarily had left his human..."
Ma Costa remained silent for a long moment. Outside, the landscape of Germania was slowly passing under the declining sun. They would arrive in Hamburg the next day.
"Poor child," the gypsy finally said in a murmur.
There was a knock at the door and it opened. In the doorway, Lyra immediately recognized the imposing build and thick red beard. Her eyes lit up.
"Oh, Farder Coram!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace the gypsy.
"Hello, kiddo," the old man said, hugging her back.
He carried the woody smell of his pipe tobacco, and his embrace was a comforting envelope. Behind him stood another man Lyra didn't know.
"Lyra, this is Orlando Faa."
John Faa, the King of the Gyptians, had passed away a few years earlier. His son, Orlando, had naturally taken his place. He resembled his father, with the same stature and broad hands, although he was smaller in size. His gaze was slightly evasive.
"Welcome, Lyra Silvertongue," Lord Faa said. "Ma Costa, may we settle in?"
"Of course," the gypsy replied. "Come to the kitchen instead."
She led them into another room and pulled out a chair for Farder Coram to sit in. Sophonax, the old gypsy's cat dæmon with autumn leaf fur, had taken a seat on a small dresser nearby.
"You're in time," she added, "Lyra was just telling me about a trafficking of unfixed dæmons in the South."
The gypsies' eyes turned to Lyra. She sat down and recounted what she had already told Ma Costa. She continued her story with her encounter with Louise and Tomas and her discovery of the Starling Network. Around her, Lord Faa, Farder Coram, and Ma Costa listened attentively.
"I've heard of this network before,"Lord Faa said, thoughtfully.
"So have I" added Farder Coram, "but I didn't realize they had so much influence."
"According to my friends, they are gaining power every day," added Lyra, "It would be a force to be reckoned with if the gypsies could..."
"Don't try to influence our community, Lyra," interrupted the gypsy king, "I thank you very much for all this information, we will discuss it once the wedding is over."
He stood up and added:
"I'm glad you're joining us tomorrow night. I'll leave you now."
He left the room, saluting them with respect. The convoy had stopped for the night. Ma Costa lit a small anbaric lamp and placed it on the table. Farder Coram silently stared at Lyra for a moment.
"Why are you here, Lyra?" he asked.
The young woman held his cerulean gaze.
"Will is back." she replied.
Farder Coram frowned.
"That's impossible. You told me his story. You know as well as I do that it's..."
"Impossible, yes, I know," Lyra interrupted him. "but, it's true. He's here. I saw him, just as I see you, I touched him, just as I touch you. I can't explain how he came back, but he's here. And we're going to find him and Kirjava in the North."
"Are you absolutely sure of what you're doing?"
"More than ever."
The doubts she had accumulated in Berlin slowly faded away. The old gypsy smiled at his young protégée's fierce determination. He got up with difficulty, Ma helping him to straighten up.
"I'm happy to see you again, Lyra. Promise me you'll come and kiss me before you leave the party tomorrow."
"I promise," Lyra replied, embracing him.
After Farder Coram left, Ma Costa settled Lyra in Tony's old bedroom, now that he had his own barge. The gypsy woman sat on the bed next to her and took her hand.
"I'm going to nag you, but are you absolutely sure? For Will, I mean. 'Cause you still have a long way to go..."
"Oh Ma, I'm sure. I think I haven't gone a day without thinking of him for 7 years... But it was just thoughts of regret and pain because, for me, seeing him again was simply impossible... And then, they showed up in the middle of that deserted city... It was unbelievable..."
The gypsy let Lyra tell her about their reunion, stroking her hair gently. She could tell that the young woman had been through some unpleasant experiences that had left their marks on her body. She could tell that she was harboring some inner turmoil. But if Lyra hadn't decided to open up to her, she wasn't going to force her hand. She simply stayed by her side, caressing her face as she listened to her fall asleep.
"Sweetheart," she whispered, "You're on a long journey... Who knows what you've been through? I really hope this boy is worth it…"
Lyra had slept deeply. When she woke up, it was already late in the morning. She stretched out her limbs. Outside the boat, she heard a lot of activity. They must have arrived in Hamburg because Lyra no longer felt the barge's vibrations under her feet. She looked out the porthole but saw nothing. Taking advantage of the calm of the room, she took out the alethiometer from her bag. She often thought about the message it had tried to convey to her and needed to question it again. Pantalaimon came to sit by her side. She took a deep breath and turned the hands slowly.
"What should I know about Will?" she asked.
Once again, the alethiometer stirred: the snake, the anchor, the candle, the lightning bolt, and the griffin. Lyra watched the hand spin wildly, her eyes half-closed, breathing slowly.
"I think..." she began, "that Will and Kirjava are going to face a difficult trial...but they will keep their strength and courage...I have a feeling that it's positive."
Taken aback, she turned the hands again.
"What kind of trial awaits them?"
This time, the alethiometer's hand turned only once to rest on the hourglass. Lyra shuddered.
"What do you understand?" Pantalaimon asked, sensing her worry.
She shook her head and looked at her dæmon.
"A significant change...at least, I hope it's a change..."
The door suddenly opened and Tony Costa, dressed in a burgundy suit, entered the room. Lyra hastily closed her alethiometer and slid it under the covers.
"Oh hey Lyra," he stuttered, "Sorry, I forgot that Ma had you sleeping here. I just need a decent mirror, you don't mind, do you?"
She shook her head, smiling, and watched him for a moment.
"You look very handsome, Tony Costa."
"Very stressed, mostly..."
The gypsy was struggling with a tie he had knotted too tightly and couldn't loosen. Lyra came to his rescue. He had really tied it too tight, and it was giving her a hard time, especially with a less skilled hand.
"So why are you getting married if it stresses you out like this?" she asked. "Ah, there you go..."
She had freed Tony from his knot and let him fix his reflection.
"I don't know if you're aware, but there's something in this world called love." he said.
Lyra made a childish face.
"I know, but how can you be sure she's the right person?"
"We're never sure of anything, that's what Ma tells me all the time. If you had told me, like, four years ago, 'Hey Tony, one day you'll meet a girl in Germania, you'll fall in love and get married!', I would have laughed in your face. I didn't think I was made for that. To me, life was about adventure, sailing with family, all that. And then Lucia came along and she makes me happy. With her, I feel stronger, and the very idea of growing old with her reassures me, you know? And we can still have adventures together, and that's even better! Life has a different flavor with her by my side..."
"Good Lord, Tony..." Lyra teased, "Are you becoming a romantic?"
He rolled his eyes at her. She laughed and sat down on the bed.
"Are you going to have kids then?" she asked.
"Oh no... please don't start, you sound like Ma! But... I don't know... I think we might. It's another question we'll have to consider later," he said, inspecting his reflection seriously.
Lyra remained silent, lost in her thoughts. The idea of getting married, or worse, having children, wasn't something that interested her, and sometimes even repulsed her. She had so much to do, see, learn. However, she wondered if Will could be the one who would make her reconsider.
"What do I look like?" Tony asked, turning to her.
"Always very handsome!"
"Always very stressed," he grimaced.
Ma Costa entered the room and stopped, her eyes shining with emotion.
"My son..."
She hugged Tony, who laughed at his mother's excitement. Lyra left the room to leave them to their embrace. Outside, there was a lot of activity. The convoy had indeed arrived in Hamburg. The barges had been placed in a circle, and in the center, the men had set up a large floating stage. On it, they laid out large colorful carpets, hanging garlands of light, setting up tables and chairs. On the deck of the barge, Lyra saw the bent figure of Farder Coram, sitting on a small wooden chair, Sophonax purring on his lap. She approached and kissed the old man's cheek.
"It's going to be a beautiful celebration, isn't it?" she said, sitting down next to him.
"Indeed," replied Farder Coram. "Weddings are always very joyful among us."
"Have you ever been married?"
The gypsy shook his head with a sad smile.
"I have loved only one woman in my life, you know. And we could never have been united. Witches do not marry."
His gaze clouded at the thought of Serafina Pekkala. He composed himself.
"You should go get ready, Lyra. Go on, the party is about to start."
Lyra had sat next to her old friend and watched the wedding with enchantment. Under a large wooden arch, the two lovers had pledged love and fidelity. Lucia was a woman of small stature, her face with fine features was enveloped in a shiny auburn hair that the women of her community had braided. She wore a crown of flowers and colorful fabrics on the top of her head, and a large gold necklace shone on her chest. Her dæmon, a gentle-eyed oak tree jay, had settled on the arch beside Tony's dæmon. The two newlyweds did not take their eyes off each other, radiant and moved. Ma Costa, seated in the front row, kept silently crying, a broad smile on her lips.
The king of the gypsies concluded the ceremony by making an incision in Tony and Lucia's palms. He then made their two hands join, thus mingling their blood, as tradition required. Lyra was a little surprised but hid her astonishment, held by the immense respect she had for the gypsies. The union was blessed by the parents, Lord Faa, and representatives of both communities amid the cheers of the guests.
The party continued well after nightfall. The food had been prepared in abundance, and beer flowed freely. A group of musicians made the air vibrate with their violins, tambourines, and voices. Lyra laughed, danced, and enjoyed this light and enchanting atmosphere. All around her was filled with joy, and she intended to fully enjoy it.
When the first light of dawn lit up the sky, Lyra decided to leave the party. At Ma Costa's insistence, she had agreed to take warm clothes, as the climate was harsher near the North Pole, even in summer. She walked under the reddening aurora, slightly tipsy, not knowing whether this sweet feeling of drunkenness was due to the abundance of joy at the party, the beer, impatience, or all in the same time. The Hamburg aerodrome, where she arrived, was relatively small. It only had three runways, all taken up by a zeppelin, which reassured her a bit. Luckily, the ticket counters were already open and Lyra presented herself at one of them. A gloomy-looking small man was leaning against it, his chameleon dæmon slumped on his shoulder.
"Do you have any zeppelins heading for the Northland?" she asked.
The man looked up lazily at her.
"Mm-hmm," he replied.
"Does any of them go to Bodø?"
Without much conviction, he took a schedule which he looked at for a long time, very long, too long for Lyra, who began to tap her fingers on the counter impatiently.
"A zeppelin is leaving for Svalbard in an hour," the man with the chameleon finally sighed, "It will make stops in Købehavn and Bodø. Gate 2."
Lyra, containing her annoyance, purchased a ticket before going to sit in the nearly empty waiting room. Only one man dozed off in a corner, his snake dæmon coiled around his knees. She and Pantalaimon waited patiently. The sun gradually flooded the room with its golden rays. Slowly, travelers were arriving, filling the silence with buzzing discussions. A crackling voice from the loudspeaker announced the boarding of the zeppelin at gate 2. Lyra boarded and settled into a seat by the window. The ship started with a dull roar and she watched the runway gradually fade away. Pan curled up on her lap. She wrapped herself in the thick woolen vest that Ma Costa had given her, plunged her hand in the soft fur of the pine marten with a smile, and dozed off. She opened one eye on landing in Købehavn, then another later, when the zeppelin was flying over the lands of Sveden. She rubbed her face and then admired the landscape. Seeing scattered towns and villages here and there, she suddenly realized that she was in the Northern Territories. A gentle warmth circulated in her veins, making her heart beat a little faster in her chest. She glanced at Pan, leaning against the glass, his eyes fixed on the outside. He had realized it too.
The zeppelin began to turn to start its landing. Lyra scrutinized the small port town that was growing beneath them, her nose almost pressed against the window. With a jolt, the zeppelin docked. The glass doors opened, and a cool breeze entered the cabin, lifting Lyra's hair. She closed her eyes to embrace the summer sun. In the evening, it would juste hide below the horizon for a few hours. The summer solstice was almost here, and Lyra set foot on the ground. She had finally arrived in Bodø.
Yes, yes, yes, this is it, finally ;)
See you in next chapter (in about a week or so) for some ✨ tenderness ✨ because that's all what we need right ?