TW : this chapter countains the description of a sexual assault.

Slowly, the sun rose above the Citadel of Aleppo, brushing with its rays the still-sleeping city. In the streets, the merchants were already busy setting up their stalls with fabrics, spices, and fruits. Shutters opened, and the inhabitants greeted each other from one building to another. On the second and last floor of a white house, Lyra woke up slowly. Painfully too. She sat up wincing. Although the mattress was rather comfortable, the long walk of the day before had made her thighs and calves sore. She massaged her legs. The sun streamed through the shutters, striping the room with its rays, and she realized that Nur was no longer by her side. Two women slept on the other mattresses, their hands joined. Lyra got up carefully, grabbed her bag, and left the room, Pan following her. The stairs creaked under her feet as she descended. She arrived in the same room where she had met the community the day before. Sitting on a bench, Nur was sipping a steaming cup of tea while chatting with a woman in her twenties. On seeing Lyra, the girl gestured for her to join them.

" Lyra, this is Amina." said Nur, serving her a cup of tea, " She speaks English too."

Lyra greeted Amina and accepted the steaming tea with delight.

" Nur told me you were trying to leave the country for the North? " asked the young woman.

Lyra nodded. She watched Amina while blowing on her hot tea. She wasn't sure if she had ever met a woman as beautiful as her. Her obsidian hair was like a veil of velvet resting on her shoulder. With her auburn eyes, underlined by a thick line of kohl, she gazed into Lyra's, who lowered her gaze, slightly flustered.

" I think I have to go to Istanbul and then try to catch a train to Northern Europe." she said.

" You shouldn't linger too long." replied her interlocutor, stroking her dæmon sitting next to her, a Siamese cat with a noble and cold look. "If you arrive early, you may find freight trains going to Istanbul and other places. Being two, you may have more difficulties trying to be discreet, but you should still try."

Lyra looked at Nur with a questioning look. She hadn't thought that the girl would also leave this place. Nur stammered,

" No... well... I'm not sure if I'm going to Istanbul..."

She turned to Lyra.

" I thought I'd accompany you to the station and then decide what I'll do. I don't intend to be a burden on your journey, but it's certain that I have to leave this country that has brought me so much misfortune."

" You'll never be a burden," Lyra reassured her kindly, " but you shouldn't feel obligated to follow me."

Amina had stood up and was handing them small packages.

" Here." she said, "There's bread, dried fruits, and cheese for the road. It may not be enough, but it will help you."

She then gave each of them a small necklace, a pendant in the shape of a hand with a large open eye in its center. Lyra observed the jewelry with curiosity while listening to Amina's explanations:

" It's a khamsa. An amulet that will protect you against the evil eye."

Lyra put on the necklace and put the package in her bag. She and Nur were about to say goodbye to Amina when a woman with gray hair and a deeply wrinkled face entered. She asked something to Amina, who replied. Then the woman approached Lyra, took her hands, and, while speaking to her, slipped a pair of golden earrings into her palm. Lyra gave Amina a panicked look. She translated for her:

" She wants to give you these earrings. They are a sign of belonging to the Shelter. You see, every woman who lives or passes through here is given these earrings. So, if you find yourself in Aleppo and you are lost or in danger, you know you can come back here for help. Our door will always be open to you."

The elderly woman proceeded to attach the earrings to Lyra's lobes, whose eyes sparkled with emotion. She let herself be hugged.

" She wishes you good luck." concluded Amina. "We wish you all good luck. Be careful."

Nur, Lyra, and their dæmons left the place and disappeared into the streets. The sun was not yet fully up, but it was already hot. The two young women walked quickly, Lyra letting herself be guided again. This time, she took the time to observe the city awakening around her. The merchants' stalls were overflowing with colors, smells, and textures that amazed her. She would have liked to stay here, to wander, to taste, to bargain, but Amina's advice kept coming back to her thoughts: don't linger, be careful. So, she promised herself to come back, and why not with Will.

She and Nur arrived at the railway station, which welcomed them with its large ochre walls and arched iron windows. It was empty enough not to feel oppressed and crowded enough not to draw attention. Lyra looked for information, but the trains indicated were only for passengers. She preferred the discretion of a freight train, thinking that this kind of transportation might be faster to reach Europe. However, analyzing the destinations, she had an idea.

"I know where you can go!" she exclaimed to Nur.

She turned around, looking for paper, something to write on. Spotting a café, she hurried to an empty table to take a leftover napkin. She returned to her friend and scribbled an address and a name on it, then handed it to her:

" You're going to take the train to Kyiv. There, I think you can find a train to France and then board a boat to Brytain. Then go to Oxford, to Jordan College, and ask for Alice Lonsdale, the housekeeper. Tell her that you come from me, she knows me well, too well even. I think she'll help you find a job at Jordan College or elsewhere."

Nur tried to memorize everything Lyra told her. She put the napkin in her pocket and hugged Lyra tightly.

" Thank you for everything, Lyra." she said, her voice trembling.

The young woman hugged her too.

" Thank you a thousand times... Will you be careful?"

Nur swallowed her tears and affirmed :

" Now that I have Ljubja, I feel more reassured. You be careful too. I hope to see you soon."

Lyra watched the frail young girl walk away towards a platform. She stood there for a moment, observing the comings and goings of the travelers in the station hall. Pantalaimon, at her feet, then said to her :

" Lyra! I think the freight trains leave from that platform over there."

He pointed to a platform at the far end of the station. Lyra tightened the straps of her bag and approached, determined, but as she walked, she slowed down, assailed by doubts. What if it was a bad idea? What if it was dangerous? A passenger train would be slower but also safer... Arriving near the train, she sat on a bench away from it and whispered to Pan :

" Please, go see if you can find out the destination of this train."

The pine marten complied and left discreetly. He returned a few moments later, confirming to Lyra that this train was leaving in a few minutes for Istanbul.

" This is our chance", he added. " Let's not waste a minute."

He climbed onto Lyra's shoulder and the young woman approached the train slowly. First, she had to make sure that the station employees, the train guards, and the conductor were not around. As she studied the possibilities that lay before her, a slow and hostile voice called out to her:

" Are you looking for something, miss?"

Lyra turned around and faced a guard. He easily towered over her, his severe face, adorned with a thin brown mustache, fixed on hers. At his side, a raven dæmon stared at Pantalaimon with sharp eyes. Hiding her fear as best she could, she replied in a white voice :

" No, no, I... I must have gotten the wrong platform…"

She quickly moved away under the guard's stern gaze and hid behind a pillar to watch him as he paced back and forth in front of the train.

" What do we do?" Pantalaimon asked, concerned.

" We'll have to run." Lyra replied.

The guard disappeared from their vision and the young woman estimated that he had boarded the train. She heard the station master whistle, and then she ran towards the train, which started to move with a sigh. She reached the platform at the back just in time and climbed up. She opened the door and entered the first wagon.

Lyra let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the place for a few moments. Under her feet, the ground trembled to the rhythm of the train's acceleration. She examined the contents of the wagon. Several boxes and large wooden crates were stacked on top of each other in uneven piles. At the back, a new door, probably to go to the other wagons. Overhead, she saw a trapdoor that let out a warm draft of air and a few rays of light. She chose a corner, put down her bag, and settled in as comfortably as she could, letting out a sigh.

" What if they're not in the North, Pan…" she lamented. "What if something happened to them and we never find them…"

" You know what to do to have an aswer." her dæmon retorted.

She knew and pulled the alethiometer out of her pocket. She hadn't had the opportunity to question it recently and feared that she had lost some of her analysis and understanding. She tried to clear her mind, but the train was bouncing unpleasantly under her and she felt her back contract. She tried to focus on the regular rhythm of the wheels on the rails and took a long breath.

" Are Will and Kirjava in our world?" she asked, turning the hands.

She felt a bit stupid for asking this question. Despite the fact that she held the persistent and real memory of the contact of Will's body against hers, his smell, his voice, his lips, she still struggled to accept this truth. The hands of the alethiometer moved slowly. The wild man, the griffin, the apple... This time, it was obvious, Will and his dæmon were definitely there. Lyra breathed a sigh of relief, but the alethiometer began to panic: the serpent, the anchor, the candle, the lightning, and the griffin again. She was disconcerted and couldn't translate what the object was trying to reveal to her. She leaned her head against the vibrating wall of the train. Reading her alethiometer required great consistency and rigor to maintain a sufficient level of analysis and understanding. Lately, she had set aside this tedious work to focus on the search for Pantalaimon.

A dull noise echoed through the wagon, someone had opened the door and entered. Lyra and Pantalaimon froze and listened intently. Heavy footsteps approached, and they held their breath, anxiety drops beading on her forehead. Suddenly, a large raven landed above them. It saw them and let out a mournful caw. The footsteps hurried and Lyra clung to Pan, who dug his claws into her shoulder. The guard she had encountered a few moments ago appeared in the narrow aisle between the boxes.

" So?" he asked in a sinister voice. "Did we make another mistake, miss?"

The sardonic smile on his face sent chills down Lyra's spine. She straightened up abruptly, her fists clenched. She had to find a way out urgently, or...

She didn't have time to act before the man rushed at her, pushing her against the wall of the wagon. Lyra stifled a scream. She struggled, but the guard, taller and stronger than her, pressed her with all his strenght. She tried to reach for his face, distorted by a disgusting grimace, to scratch him. Anticipating this gesture, the man pinned his muscular forearm against her throat. Lyra, trapped, clung to the forearm that was cutting off her breathing. He brought his face close to hers, so close that she could feel his hot and repulsive breath.

" Shh," the man hissed, " if you let me do what I want, I won't say anything, and you can finish your journey, don't worry."

He pressed his lips against Lyra's by force. She felt a sharp pain and a metallic taste began to spread in her mouth. With his free hand, he searched for access to Lyra's belt loop. All her limbs tensed as she felt him reaching for the buttons of her pants. He managed to create an access and began to slide his hand into her underwear. Lyra was trembling, begging, but in return, the man let out a greasy laugh with fetid breath. Suddenly, he screamed and released his grip. Pantalaimon had wriggled free from the crow's claws, pounced on the man, and bit his ear. The guard tried to disengage from the marten while Lyra closed her pants and retrieved her bag. She kicked the man in the crotch, and he knelt down moaning. Pan jumped into her arms, and she quickly climbed up the boxes. She reached the trap, but no matter how hard she pushed, it wouldn't open. The raven dæmon flew around her, cawing and trying to pinch her with its sharp beak. Below her, she could hear the man uttering a string of swear words. Driven by fear and adrenaline, Lyra pushed harder, and the trap opened. She hoisted herself onto the roof, but a powerful hand grabbed her ankle.

" You little bitch!" the guard shouted, pulling her leg. " I'll teach you!"

With her free foot, Lyra kicked him in the nose with her heel. The man let go, and he fell off the stack of boxes. She climbed up and found herself on the roof of the wagon, speeding along. She closed the trap, and Pantalaimon cried out:

" Lyra! The other wagons! Over there!"

Lyra grabbed the marten and proceeded cautiously. The landscape around her passed by quickly, and the wind whipped her face. When she reached the edge, she took some momentum and jumped to reach the second wagon. She landed on her knees and grimaced, then quickly moved forward, keeping her legs bent to avoid falling, until she reached another trapdoor. This one opened more easily, and a strong smell rose to her nose. She took a look and guessed that the wagon contained a dense flock of sheep and ewes. She heard a metallic sound and realized that the guard had opened the first trapdoor. Her heart skipped a beat, and she slipped into the wagon, followed by Pantalaimon who made sure to close the entrance. She fell into the middle of the flock, which recoiled at her sudden arrival. Crawling, she slipped under woolly animals and remained still, holding her dæmon close to her. Out of breath, she listened for suspicious noises. They didn't take long to come. Heavy footsteps echoed above her. They stopped at the level of the trapdoor, which opened with a bang. The large raven flew in, and Lyra lowered her head to hide. The bird landed on the back of a sheep and scanned the flock for a few minutes, but saw nothing but ruminants staring back at it. It opened its large wings and, with a push, flew back up to the guard. He sweared and closed the trapdoor.

Still hidden among the sheep, Lyra caught her breath. Her body shook violently, and she started to vomit. The sheep around her scattered. She leaned against the wall of the wagon, her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself while tears of anxiety streamed down her cheeks. Pantalaimon nestled against her neck, whimpering, but again, the sound of voices and footsteps reached her ears. Once again, she plunged under the woolly animals. The acrid smell of hay, excrements, and wool made her nauseous, but she remained silent. The guard was there, accompanied by a woman.

" Are you sure?" the woman asked in a shrill voice.

" Do you really think I did this to myself?" the guard replied, annoyed.

The woman burst out laughing.

" Well, she really got you good! You'll look silly when you have to explain why your nose is like this to your wife."

The guard grumbled. Their footsteps stopped near Lyra's hiding place, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

" Well," the woman said, "I honestly think your little girlfriend jumped off the wagon. You must have scared her too much. And if that's the case, I don't give her much chance of survival."

The guard grumbled again. They both left the wagon, and Lyra emerged from her hiding spot. She took a deep breath and coughed. A sheep next to her lifted its head to look at her. Lyra stroked the rough wool of the animal with a trembling hand.

" Thank you for your hospitality ." she said to the ruminant. "I'll try not to disturb you."

And the animal returned to its tasks, which were to chew on the hay. Lyra sat in the corner of the wagon, hugging her knees to her chest. The tremors continued involuntarily, shaking her body while tears streamed down her face. The sheep she had talked to nudged its companions aside and settled next to her, which brought a smile to Lyra's face. Pantalaimon curled up against her, and she closed her eyes, trying to calm her body and mind. Nausea returned, so she took a flask from her bag and took a long sip of water. Then, squeezing her legs tighter, she buried her head in her arms.

The journey lasted several hours. When she realized the train was slowing down as it approached the station, Lyra loosened her limbs. Every part of her body was stiff and painful, and she got up with great difficulty. She needed to come up with a new plan. On the one hand, the guard might still be around, and she didn't want to be noticed; on the other hand, she was arriving at an unknown station. She put on her bag, watching for signs of the train stopping. The train suddenly braked, coughing and spitting, and she quickly heard voices approaching the wagon containing the livestock. The large sliding door opened, and the blinding light entered the enclosure. Lyra pressed herself against the wall, hiding from the men calling the sheeps. She waited for the whole herd to leave before taking a discreet look outside. In the distance, she saw the guard and his colleague helping women load a cart with crates of fruits. He had a red nose, and blood-soaked tissues were stuffed into his nostrils. Lyra couldn't help but smile. She slipped out of the wagon furtively, keeping her eyes on the man. She walked backward for a few meters, then turned around and entered the station. She hurried, but not too fast, so as not to draw attention to herself.

While walking, Lyra analyzed the new environment that lay before her. The train station was high-ceilinged and resonated with the footsteps of travelers, the whistles of conductors, and the shouts of vendors. Large arched windows provided soft and diffuse light. Here, a barrel organ player made children dance and their parents applaud; there, a coffee vendor called out to passersby and served steaming, aromatic cups; over there, a group of teenagers offered their shoe shining services to busy men ; and there, exhausted travelers slept on their suitcases. Lyra saw a sign indicating restrooms, and she hurried towards them. She left a coin to the maintenance man and headed towards the sinks. When she arrived in front of a mirror, she was horrified by her reflection. Her hair was tousled, her lip was swollen at one corner, and her neck bore the reddish marks of the assault that had occurred a few hours earlier. Tears that had flowed down her dusty cheeks had left long clear streaks. She was a pitiful sight. She pushed her hair back, turned on the faucet, and splashed her face with water. The contact of the cold water felt like a slap. As she dried her face, she was once again hit by nausea and rushed into the nearest toilet stall. She struggled to catch her breath, her heart beating rapidly in her throat.

"Are you okay?" said a voice in approximate English from the other side of the door.

Lyra emerged from the stall and found herself face to face with a small woman with pale skin and almond-shaped eyes who looked at her with concern. A rabbit dæmon was at her side, looking at them.

" I'm fine," she replied. "The trip was long and it shook me up a bit, that's all."

The woman still handed her a tissue, pointing to her lip, and then took her leave. Lyra returned to the mirror. She wet the tissue and dabbed her mouth, grimacing. She felt dirty, so dirty. Seeing that the restrooms were empty, she decided to take off her blouse and pants to try to wash herself briefly. She wished she could immerse herself in a scorching bath and scrub her skin until it bled to remove all traces of the attack she had suffered, but in the absence of that, she contented herself with rubbing every inch of her skin vigorously with the soap from the restroom. After drying off, she put on a clean shirt and pants that she kept in her bag, stuffed her dirty clothes into the nearest trash can, and headed to the nearest ticket booth. She asked the woman at the counter:

" The next train to Northern Europe, please?"

" A train is leaving for Berlin in about thirty minutes," the woman replied. "It's a night train. I have a few tickets left, but you won't have a sleeper, you'll have to manage."

Lyra agreed. All she wanted was to leave this station as soon as possible and feel that she was getting closer to Will. She paid for her ticket and went to the platform level. There, a long red and gold train awaited its departure. Lyra inspected her ticket, which read "Train car 12, Compartment 8." She took one last look at the bustling Istanbul station and climbed aboard the wagon.