AN - Apologies, formatting was way off the first time I uploaded! Hopefully fixed now.

She emerged in a similar landscape to the one she had just left. Slowly spinning on the spot, she took in her surroundings and Pan jumped up into her arms, ready to be tucked under her dress or into her bag, knowing he'd have to hide in this world. They both felt a shock at the touch - it had been so long since she had held him in her arms - but neither of them acknowledged it.

"Good thinking," Lyra said, "as soon as you see anybody, hide."

With no idea where to start, but with a kick of adrenaline at the impossible situation she had previously only dreamed of actually happening, she began to walk in the direction of where the town in her world had been. She hoped that like the two Oxfords, she may find a similarly mirrored civilisation there. Not too long had passed when she did indeed find a town in the same place as the one in her own world. The differences between the two were much like the differences between her Oxford and Will's: more anbaric power, more concrete, more motor vehicles. There was also the name: 'Karapınar' was printed in large letters on a nearby road sign, but the place she had just left in her world had no such name.

She moved deeper into the town constantly looking about her, though she wasn't sure for what. Pan had climbed into her rucksack. It wasn't his favourite way to travel, but just having the warm presence of his human beside him gave him more comfort than he had felt in weeks. Not only were they together again, they were on an adventure. And not just any adventure, one in another world to find Will and Kirjava. Lyra could feel Pan's satisfaction and she shared it completely. It had been a difficult few months. A difficult few years, really. The note Pan written before he left her had said that he had gone to look for her imagination, and now she knew what he had meant by it. She was missing part of herself, her ability to tell stories, to read the alethiometer, to believe in anything that wasn't right in front of her face. But being together with Pan on an adventure, as a team with a common purpose, had awakened something in her. She was tired, she was injured, and she had no idea what to do next, but she was alive. Even just seeing the window, even just the excitement she experienced when Pan had found it, had stirred in her a feeling she'd forgotten, and a relief that she could still feel that strongly and believe in something so impossible. She wanted to talk about this with Pan, and she knew they would have to at some point - they couldn't pretend like nothing had happened - but for now she pressed on, content knowing that Pan was curled up in her bag feeling much the same as she was.

As she continued on, a nervousness grew deep in the pit of her stomach but she wasn't entirely sure why - if anything, she was safer here than she was in her own world; no one was actively trying to find and murder her here. Still, she wanted to blend in and considered wearing the niqab Yozdah had given her. As she passed by more people, she noticed that some women were covering their hair, some their face as well, and others neither. Lyra decided to go with what the majority were doing and cover only her hair. No one seemed to bat an eye at her presence, which was comforting.

Eventually, she came to a building outside of which several groups of people her age were gathered chatting. She felt more trusting of younger people for some reason, perhaps because she was their peer. Between this, and the fact the building they were congregating outside of seemed to be a college or university of some kind, she decided this would be as good a place as any to ask for help. She approached several people and timidly asked if they spoke English or French. She was met with many apologetic shakes of heads until eventually, someone understood her.

"Do you speak English? Parlez vous Français?" Lyra asked. The flicker of recognition on the boy's face sent a surge of relief through her.

"Uh… a little," he replied, "but my friend… she is better. come." He seemed to give up trying to speak, and instead gestured that Lyra follow him. Lyra had learned that following strangers wasn't always the best idea, but it had also often worked in her favour. Besides, she didn't have many other options at the moment, so she went. The boy led her to a library inside the building, and to a desk at which a girl was sat. She wore a purple headscarf and was sipping a cup of coffee, whilst pressing buttons on an anbaric device in front of her. The word 'computer' echoed around Lyra's head - it looked a bit like the machine Mary Malone had used on her many years ago. The boy spoke to his friend in their own language for a few seconds as the girl looked at Lyra curiously. Then the boy smiled at Lyra and left, gesturing that he had somewhere else to be.

"You are English?" The girl asked as her friend left.

"Yes," Lyra replied, relieved at hearing words she understood.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Lyra. What's yours?"

"I am Feriha. What do you need, Lyra?"

"I need to know how to get to the capital city, I was hoping someone could help me," Lyra replied.

"You want to go to Istanbul?" Feriha asked.

"Yes, yes, exactly." The name of the capital city here was news to Lyra, but she nodded as though she had known it all along.

"I can look it up for you?" She gestured to her computer.

"That would be amazing, thank you."

Feriha pressed a few keys on the computer and after a few moments turned back to Lyra. "There is a bus. It leaves from here," she pointed to a map on the screen, "we are here," she pointed to another point on the map, "so you just need to walk down this road here and turn there, do you see?"

"Yes, that's perfect, thank you!" Lyra told her, looking over the map again to commit it to memory.

"This is the price," Feriha pointed to a number next to the map on the screen and Lyra's stomach dropped. Money. Although she had some money, and in a variety of currencies, it was highly unlikely it would be of any use in this world. Feriha saw the look on Lyra's face and seemed to understand what it meant. "You have no money?" She asked.

"No," Lyra replied quietly. "Do you know anywhere I can go to earn some? Anyone who is offering work? I'll be a maid, I'll do anything."

"I do not know, I am sorry." Feriha hesitated for a moment. "I hope I do not offend you by asking, but… are you ok?" She was looking at Lyra's face, concerned, and Lyra remembered that it was covered in cuts and bruises. Maybe she would've done better to keep the full niqab on after all. She thought about lying, but decided against it.

"No. Not really."

"Sit," Feriha said, motioning to a chair beside her. "Did somebody do that to you?" She asked quietly once Lyra was sat down.

Lyra hesitated before replying. "Yes." She felt tears welling in her eyes but fought them back. "Some soldiers."

Feriha looked at Lyra sadly. "I am very sorry. Have you told the police?"

Lyra shook her head. "I don't want to. I just need to get to my friend."

"I will buy your ticket." Feriha said after a moment.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly-"

"No, please let me. It is not very expensive. I can buy it and print it for you now." She pressed some more buttons on the keyboard then told Lyra to wait whilst she went to another room. She returned a couple of moments later with a piece of paper which she handed to Lyra.

"I really can't thank you enough, Feriha." Lyra found tears welling in her eyes once again.

"It is no problem. Inshallah you will have a safe journey." Lyra didn't know how else to express her gratitude. She reached into her bag and found one of the small coins Farder Coram had given her for her travels. Whilst she still doubted it was usable currency in this world, it was very pretty. It had an interesting shape, and some intricate art on one side. Feriha declined the gift at first but relented eventually after Lyra insisted she take it as some small token of her thanks. As she walked away, she was struck that although so many people had been cruel to her, so many had been kind too.

o-o-o

Lyra found and boarded the bus with no problem. There were not many people on board and she sat near the back hoping that poor Pan would get a chance to pop his head out of her bag without anyone seeing. They settled in and she risked talking to him.

"I don't know what to do for money when we get to Istanbul, Pan." It was all well and good accepting this ticket from Feriha but what next? She couldn't beg her way across Europe, could she? She wondered what her parents would think, their daughter, a beggar. Though really, she didn't have to wonder; she knew all too well what they would think.

"We'll have to sell something." Pan whispered. "Maybe the coins from Farder Coram. Maybe some of them are made from real gold or silver? Or someone might want them because they're unusual. Feriha was very impressed by the one you gave her. Some are very pretty, they might not have anything like them in this world."

o-o-o

A few hours and a good nap later, they exited the bus into a city much busier than the one they had left. Lyra was surprised to feel more comfortable in the crowd than in the quieter town. She could blend in here, find money here. She would be able to get to Oxford from here; it would take a long time, but she would get there. She needed food, clothes, rest… she needed a lot of things, but first of all, she needed money. On the bus, she had inspected the bag of remaining coins Farder Corman had given her. Some of them did look as though they could be of some value, or at least interest, due to their unique shapes and patterns. She walked quite a way through the city before she came across a shop window displaying second-hand watches, jewellery, and instruments amongst other things. The sign above the door read Rehinci. It was exactly what she had been looking for. She hoped that whoever was inside wouldn't try to deceive her, but when she considered the kind of person who might own a shop where desperate people go to sell their belongings, she didn't have much confidence. She settled instead for just hoping that they spoke a little English.

Trying to appear confident, she entered the shop. There was a man behind the counter and Lyra tried to take his measure, but she struggled. Upon noticing her enter, he looked up and smiled, which she hoped was a good sign. There was nothing she could really do now but talk to him. She asked if he spoke English or French. The man considered for a moment.

"Ah. Yes… But not perfect."

"That's ok. I have some things to sell." She held up her bag of coins to make clear what she was suggesting.

"Let me see," he said, and Lyra removed some of the coins from the bag and handed them to him

"They are very interesting," he said "I have never seen…" He trailed off of, seemingly unsure of how to express his meaning in English. She understood, though. "What material?" he asked.

"Oh," she said trying to sound confident, "only the best, most precious metals."

He raised an eyebrow at her, unsure, and took a small eyepiece out from under the counter. He looked at some of the coins and pondered over them for a couple of minutes. "Hm, yes," he said, "they look good quality. Very interesting. One moment." He turned and called out into the room behind him. A second man came out from the room. The first man showed his colleague the coins Lyra had presented to him and handed him the eyepiece to look more closely also. When he looked back up, Lyra could see that he was trying to hide that he was impressed. The two men spoke a little in their own language before the first man spoke to Lyra again.

"Ok," he said, "we will take."

Lyra knew well enough not to accept the first offer, and even after some haggling she decided to take a risk. As she did not know the true value of these coins in this world, or the value of this country's currency, she was scared that she would accept an offer that was too low. "I'm sorry, that is still not enough. I'm going take my business elsewhere." She was bluffing, and was terrified it wouldn't work, but marched towards the door with all the confidence she could muster.

"No no, miss, wait." The man said as soon as she reached the door. She stopped and turned back to him. He made her another, higher offer, and this time she accepted, scared to push any further and hoping it would be enough. After the transaction, as she was counting the money and putting it into her bag, the man spoke to her again. "Miss, I am… curious. Why must you sell your belongings?"

Lyra could feel him looking at the injuries on her face, just like Feriha had. "I need to get to Brytain," she answered honestly.

"Do you need anything for your journey?" he asked gesturing around the shop, evidently trying to sell her something even though she was there to do the selling herself.

"No, thank you," she said politely, turning to leave.

"You have everything in order? Your… passport?"

Much like when Feriha reminded her that she would have to pay for her bus ticket, her stomach dropped again when she realised that, although she had a passport, it was very unlikely it would be valid here. She wasn't quick enough with an answer - her imagination, as Pan called it, was coming back slowly, but not all at once. It must've been obvious to the man that this question had struck a nerve.

"Do you need a passport?" The man asked slowly, and full of meaning.

"Perhaps," Lyra said apprehensively. The man looked up out of the window of the shop as if to ensure no one was coming. When he saw the coast was clear, he bent down and pulled a box out from under the counter.

"Here," he opened the box and presented it to Lyra. It was full of documents, identification cards, and passports, presumably pickpocketed from travellers. This was not something Lyra wanted to participate in, but she didn't see that she had much of a choice. She looked at them and found several passports that said "Great Britain" on the front. At first, she thought they must've been forged, and poorly, to have such an obvious spelling error. Then she remembered - Brytain was spelled differently in this world. She supposed it didn't really matter where the passport said she was from anyway, as long as it could get her to Britain, though it would be more believable if it said she was British, as of course, English was her native language. She looked through each one carefully, paying close attention to the photos inside. There were a couple that may possibly pass for her. There was one in particular that would work, she thought, if she had dyed her hair and aged a few years since the photo was taken. If she could claim she was wearing different make up. If she was particularly nice to the inspectors, or, more realistically, hid in the train bathroom when they came around.

"Ok," she said, "how much is this one?" The man gave a price, but just like her coins, she knew not to accept the first offer. "Why should I pay so much when all you do is steal these from tourists? You get them for free." She didn't know if it was pity or respect that made him do it, but he lowered the price, which she accepted. In a way, she was becoming grateful for the nasty cuts and bruises on her face; it seemed they made people more inclined to help her.

She left the shop with some money and a new identity. Once outside, she opened the passport again and looked at the name inside. "I'm sorry, Sabrina Robinson," she said, "I guess I'm you now." Putting the passport firmly in her pocket, she took off in search of the nearest train station.

o-o-o

A kind woman in the ticket office helped her plan her journey. She was shocked at first at how far Lyra wanted to travel by train, but found it an interesting challenge, especially when Lyra spun her a story about how she was a locomotive enthusiast, and it had always been her dream to travel the world by train. She was pleased at how easily she the story came to her. She couldn't buy tickets for the whole journey from this particular station, but the woman printed her a typed itinerary. Her first stop was Bucharest in Romania, followed by Vienna, Cologne, Brussels, London, and then finally, Oxford.

o-o-o

The train ride to Bucharest was long and boring. Mostly she just ate and slept. Every time she was jolted awake by the train making a particular movement or a sudden noise, she was shocked to find Pan there; she had gotten so used to her lonely existence without him. Whether or not she could be reunited with Will, this trip would've been worth it for bringing her and Pan back together. The third time she was woken up, it was dark outside the train window and her entire carriage was empty.

"Pan," she whispered, half-asleep.

"Mm," he replied, equally as groggy.

"I love you," she said. Pan poked his head out from under her coat where he had been curled up sleeping. "But I hate that you left me."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking away from her.

"I think I understand why you did now." She reached out and stroked his head gently. "But i'm still upset. Bad things happened to me Pan. Some really bad things."

"I know. I felt it. I wish I could've been there with you, Lyra. I'm so sorry I wasn't there," he said.

"I'm glad you weren't," she replied, to his surprise. "If you were there, they might've touched you. I couldn't bear it if they had touched you." Pan looked away again, full of guilt and shame. "But as I was saying, I understand why you left. And now we're back together, and on our way to find Will, I'm glad you did it. I left you once, you left me once. We're even now."

"Lyra, I didn't do it to get even!" He said.

"I know," she replied, "but still, we are. Now, let's just agree to never leave each other again."

"Of course. Never," Pan said softly, nuzzling against her chest. She held him to her and kissed the top of his head.

o-o-o

When she arrived in Bucharest, she didn't have too long to wait until the train departed to her next destination. She found a currency exchange desk in the train station, and after telling the man working there of each of her stops, he changed her lira into leu, euros, and pounds according to how much she estimated she would need in each place. She used the leu to purchase her ticket to Vienna and some food, then went to wait for her train to arrive. It seemed her hair covering was drawing attention to her now rather than helping her blend in, so she removed it. The journey to Vienna was much the same as the one to Bucharest, long and overnight, so she got some much needed sleep.

o-o-o

Once in Vienna, there was some time to kill before her train to Cologne, so she decided to go out in search of food. Before leaving the station, she went into the toilets to wash her face and brush her teeth. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror which showed that she was in dire need of a bath and change of clothes.

After some wandering, she found herself on a busy street full of shops and cafes. She stopped first in a clothes shop to purchase two new dresses and some underwear and tights. Neither dress was too dissimilar to something she would wear in her own world, albeit a little shorter, but that seemed to be how girls wore them here. One was black and white checked, the other black corduroy with buttons down the middle of the top part. Both just brushed her knees, and the material seemed to be of less good quality than she was used to at home. She had noticed that a lot of things in this world seemed inferior to their counterparts in her own, like they were hastily made out of poor materials, but they were also cheaper, so she didn't mind too much. She found a public bathroom and changed into the corduroy dress in a cubicle before finding somewhere to eat and making her way back to the station.

o-o-o

The trains to Cologne and then to Brussels were shorter than her previous journeys and largely uneventful, and soon, she was on the train that would finally take her to England. After two hours that felt much longer, she left the train at St. Pancras station.

London!

"Excuse me, how do I get to Oxford from here?" Lyra asked a passing member of staff after finding all the ticket booths were closed.

"You need a train from Paddington sweetheart, but the next one won't be until tomorrow morning now," the man told her.

Lyra thanked him set about on finding somewhere to stay for the night. She eventually came to a hotel that looked run down enough to be in her price range, but perhaps not so run down that it would be entirely an unpleasant stay. After having a much needed shower and brushing her teeth, she changed into some of her new underwear, not much fancying wearing her nightdress which was due a wash after continued use for the past few weeks. She clambered into the small shabby bed where Pan lay waiting for her, feeling clean for the first time in days.

"We're so close now, Pan," she whispered. "I can almost feel him." Pan nuzzled into her neck and she knew he was as full of anticipation as she was. She tried not to get her hopes up too high though; she still had to find him once she got to Oxford. She didn't want to even entertain the possibility that he could've moved away. What would she do then? Pushing this grim thought aside, she instead pictured meeting him, her head spinning with a hundred different scenarios. Would they fall into each others arms? Would he kiss her passionately? Would neither of them know what to say? What did he look like now? Had he grown his hair? Had he grown a beard? Was he even taller now? With so much on her mind, it was a miracle she fell asleep at all, but eventually she did, thinking of how after all this time, tomorrow, she would be in Will's Oxford.