Lyra Silvertongue was now in her twenties and had led a very eventful life for her young age. She had traveled through worlds, negotiated with a Panserbjørne king, descended into the Land of the Dead, and challenged harpies. She had even defied the Authority itself! And yet, today, Lyra Silvertongue was lost, it had to be admitted. She had boarded the first wagon of the night train to Berlin and was having a hard time finding her compartment. In the aisles, passengers were unpakcing their luggages, setting up their berths, children were running and playing, parents were grumbling, and soldiers were playing cards, and Lyra, in the midst of all this noise, couldn't find her compartment. Finally, she spotted a ticket inspector who was helping an old man lift his suitcase onto the luggage rack. She asked her for help.
" Train car 12 is all the way at the end," replied the woman in the red uniform, pointing down the aisle with her arm. Her dæmon, a curly brown Barbet, sniffed Lyra's shoes." You can't miss it, it's the last wagon."
Lyra thanked her and continued on her way, pushing through the busy passengers and open suitcases, with Pantalaimon following close behind. Gradually, the crowd thinned out and silence set in: she had left the privileged area of the comfortable sleeping cars. She walked forward, looking at the numbers above the compartment doors.
" 5... 6... 7... " she counted. "Here! Compartment 8!"
She slid open the small glass door and entered inside. To her great relief, the compartment was almost empty. On the left, the entire bench was free and on the seats opposite, only a couple was seated. Lyra greeted them. The woman, sitting next to the window, was immersed in a novel. Her dense, ebony hair was pulled up above her head with a brightly colored scarf. A few curls freely framed her amber neck. On her shoulder, her dæmon, a titmouse, watched the newcomers. Her eyes, framed with a wide tortoiseshell glasses, fell away from her book to meet Lyra's gaze and greeted her with a friendly smile. Next to the woman was a bearded man with pale skin, lying on his back, clearly asleep, with his head resting on the lady's lap. His legs were folded so that the tips of his toes were pressed against the wall of the wagon. Under the bench, the man's black Border Collie dæmon was asleep. The woman, who had returned to her reading, elegantly ran her fingers through her companion's long ash-blond hair. Lyra sat facing them. She waited in silence for a long time, watching the door and hoping that no one else would enter, to have a chance to enjoy the entire bench to rest. Finally, the train jolted and started. She rubbed her eyes and relaxed the tension in her shoulders. Finally, she felt a little more secure. Pantalaimon crawled onto her lap and placed his front paws on the window sill to look outside. Lyra did the same. Under the declining sun, the city of Istanbul flew by faster and faster as the train accelerated. She caught sight of her reflection through the window and made a face. Her swollen lip had turned a shade of purple and around her eyes, large blue circles hollowed her cheeks. Around her face, the earings offered by the old woman from the Shelter sparkled like two suns. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. But instantly, she saw again the guard's evil face, heard his odious voice, felt his mouth on hers, the metallic taste on her tongue. She opened her eyes, short of breath and with her jaw clenched. She was pulled out of this bad dream by the woman who addressed her in a gentle voice:
" What happened to you?"
She spoke with a slight accent, and Lyra looked at her, a little alarmed. The woman had put down her book beside her and she pointed to her neck and then to her lips.
" There." she added, "You're injured…"
" A nasty fall." Lyra replied impassively.
The woman narrowed her eyes. She didn't seem to believe Lyra, but Lyra didn't care much. She crossed her arms and turned her attention back to the outside. She heard the woman rummaging through a bag and then, turning her eyes, she saw that she was offering her a small silver tube and a rectangular pocket mirror.
" Here," she said, "it's a healing cream, for your lip, it should help soothe it."
As Lyra didn't move, she placed the objects on the tray that separated them and continued:
" We'll be sharing this space for a long time. It really wouldn't be in my interest to lure you... Take it."
Lyra looked at her without saying anything, but her swollen lip reminded her of the stinging pain. So she took the tube and mirror, muttering a thank you. She applied a bit of cream to her finger and, guided by her reflection, she dabbed it onto her injured lip in small touches. Each application caused her a grimace of pain. That bastard had got her good. She closed the tube and returned the items to the woman, reiterating her thanks.
" I'm Louise." she said, putting away her things. "Louise Broncard. And this is Adolias."
The titmouse greeted Lyra and Pan with a nod of its head.
" And they're Tomas and Anke." Louise added, pointing to the sleeping man and dog. "And you ?"
" Lizzy," Lyra lied," Lizzy Brooks. And this is Pantalaimon. You're... French?"
" Yes, well, we live in Berlin, Germania, with Tomas and Anke. Have you ever been to Berlin?"
Lyra shook her head.
"We're not staying there." she clarified. "We have to get to the North, the city of Bodø."
She bit her tongue. Why did she need to specify all that? It had nothing to do with her temporary travel companion. But Louise nodded knowingly.
" Hm, it's in Sveden." she said seriously. "That's quite a journey ahead of you. Did you start from Istanbul?"
Lyra frowned imperceptibly. Why did this woman have so many questions?
" Not really.." she replied without elaborating. " And you ?"
" Oh yes. We were there for a... conference. We stayed for about a week. It's a pretty amazing city, but it's nothing compared to Berlin!."
She let out a small laugh and Lyra relaxed a bit. Louise opened her book again and her fingers found their way into Tomas's tangled hair, who groaned in satisfaction in his sleep. Outside, night had taken over and the moon was shining. Lyra gazed up at the dark sky, her mind wandering to Will and Kirjava, trying to imagine where they could be and what they could be doing. Knowing that they were in her world warmed her heart and added a glimmer of hope to her quest. She then thought again of the alethiometer, nestled in her bag, which had spun wildly: the serpent, the anchor, the candle, the lightning bolt, and the griffin. She repeated to herself: the serpent, the anchor, the candle, the lightning bolt, and the griffin. The gentle, rhythmic motion of the train rocked her back and forth. She took off her shoes and settled as comfortably as she could on the bench. She closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the regular rumble of the train and the rustling of the pages that Louise turned.
Lyra's ears were tickled by a light melody. She opened her eyes and yawned, turning her head to understand where the music was coming from. On the neighboring bench, Louise and Tomas faced each other, each leaning against a compartment wall, legs folded on the bench, and feet intertwined. Tomas, perfectly awake, held a small, light-colored wooden guitar in his hands. He plucked the strings lightly and hummed a song. Facing him, the Frenchwoman with the titmouse daemon gazed at him with tender eyes and affectionately scratched the head of the dog sitting next to her. Noticing that Lyra was awake, she turned to the young woman.
" I hope it's not because of us that you're awake!" she said apologetically.
Lyra shook her head, rubbing her cheeks and massaging her sore neck. She had slept, yes, but with a restless sleep filled with shadows. She was far from the restful sleep she craved. Pan stretched and jumped onto the small shelf. He had slept too, but not next to her this time. Lyra felt a twinge in her heart. Tomas stopped playing his music and smiled at her.
" We ordered coffee." he said with a strong accent borrowed from Germania. "Do you fancy a cup?"
Lyra was surprised by this sudden familiarity, but she gladly accepted the cup that the man poured for her. She took a sip of the bitter liquid and immediately burned her tongue. She grimaced and set her cup down.
" What time is it?" she asked.
Tomas looked at his watch.
" It's 6:30 in the morning." he replied. " We still have several hours of travel ahead of us. Did you get some sleep? "
Lyra looked at him, still surprised by his familiarity. He spoke to her as if they had known each other for years. Louise had stretched her legs over her companion's knees. Under them, the titmouse daemon had snuggled up against the dog.
" Tomas is very friendly with everyone." explained Louise, stroking the man's back. "If he goes too far, feel free to let him know!"
Tomas rolled his crystal-clear eyes and looked at the woman next to him, making a childish face. She laughed and playfully pushed him. Lyra pulled the small package out of her bag that Amina had given her. She revealed the dried fruits and spread them on the table to share with her fellow travelers. Tomas took a sip of coffee and, looking into Lyra's eyes, asked her point-blank:
" So Lizzy... Is it okay if I call you Liz? So, Liz, what are you doing on this train heading to our beautiful Germania?"
" I was in the Far East," she replied. "I'm trying to reach the North, to Sveden."
" Oh, the North!" the blond man said with a joyful smile. "Are you going to negotiate with the Pansjerbørnes?"
Lyra nearly choked on her coffee.
" Why do you say that?" she stammered.
Louise nudged Tomas and replied,
" He's just trying to show off. Don't listen to him. Afterward, he'll tell you that he spent a month with armored bears, when in truth, he only ran into them once in his life, and it lasted two hours!"
She looked stern, and Tomas grumbled, which amused Lyra.
" In fact, I want to go to Sveden, specifically to Bodø," explained Lyra. "I... we have important people to find there."
As she said that, she lowered her gaze slightly, which Louise noticed.
" Hm, a lover perhaps?" she asked, being nosy.
Lyra's cheeks reddened. Will, her lover? Of course, it seemed obvious. She wasn't going to deny her desire, nor that if the sailor with the seagull hadn't intervened, things could have progressed differently... And after all, they were adults now. But was that cuting corners? She had to find him, which was no small task. She collected herself and cleared her throat.
"Maybe... "she answered. "And what about you? What conference could bring you to spend so much time in Istanbul?"
" A special conference on the Church and its powers." boasted Tomas, lifting his chin.
Once again, Louise nudged him in the ribs. A more violent jab, as the man let out a small cry of pain. The Frenchwoman gave him an authoritarian look, but it was too late; Lyra suddenly seemed captivated. Was he really talking about the Magisterium? She tried to find out more, but the long-haired man finally said:
" It was an important but...secret conference. I can't tell you more."
Lyra scowled, so Louise tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. She asked Lyra about her origin.
" I'm from Brytain." Lyra replied, taking more coffee. " I'm a...student…"
Feeling that her interlocutors' questions would soon return, she continued:
" I study the European Arctic region. I wrote a dissertation on it. I hope to continue with a thesis."
Tomas nodded admiringly. Then he added, with a teasing smile:
" It's a lucky coincidence to have a lover who stays in the North, then."
Lover. The word had come out again to talk about Will. And once again, Lyra felt her cheeks flush. She quickly moved on:
" And what about you two?"
" Louise is a teacher, well, she was a teacher in France before joining me in Germania. And me, well, I come and go, I don't really have a job, I do whatever I feel like and whatever pays the most, of course."
As he spoke, he made grand gestures with his arm, looking bored. Louise shook her head and sighed.
" He's an artist." she said more seriously. "He's a painter and he's very talented."
Tomas put on a falsely modest face and replied with a kiss on the woman's cinnamon cheek. The conversation continued in this way, joyful, light-hearted, until the end of their journey. The three companions chatted, played cards, tasted coffee and dried fruits. Lyra laughed out loud at Tomas' jokes. Through laughter, she relieved her soul of a heavy burden, and it was pleasant. The knot in her stomach slowly unraveled, and she felt confident. The Franco-German couple proved to be very talkative and were not stingy with anecdotes and stories about Berlin. So much so that Lyra was tempted to take some time to explore this city. As if reading her thoughts, Louise then said:
" We'll be arriving soon. Do you want to come to our place? There's no obligation, but... you seem to have made a long journey, and you still have a lot of road ahead of you. Maybe a bath would be good?"
The image of herself lounging in a steaming bath suddenly activated a desire in Lyra, and she realized that she had not been able to wash properly for days, maybe weeks. She accepted while keeping her main objective in mind: to take a hot bath, okay, change her clothes, and quickly return to the station to find a train to go further north.