«Welcome, Lyra,» he said.
Close to, she felt his voice rumbling like the earth itself. She would have been nervous but for Pantalaimon, and the fact that John Faa's stony expression had warmed a little. He was treating her very gently.
«Thank you, Lord Faa,» she said.
«Now you come in the parley room and we'll have a talk,» said John Faa. «Have they been feeding you proper, the Costas?»
«Oh, yes. We had eels for supper.»
«Proper fen eels, I expect.»
The parley room was a comfortable place with a big fire, sideboards laden with silver and porcelain, and a heavy table darkly polished by the years, at which twelve chairs were drawn up.
The other men from the platform had gone elsewhere, but the old shaking man was still with them. John Faa helped him to a seat at the table.
«Now, you sit here on my right,» John Faa said to Lyra, and took the chair at the head of the table himself. Lyra found herself opposite Farder Coram. She was a little frightened by his skull-like face and his continual trembling. His daemon was a beautiful autumn-colored cat, massive in size, who stalked along the table with upraised tail and elegantly inspected Pantalaimon, touching noses briefly before settling on Farder Coram's lap, half-closing her eyes and purring softly.
A woman whom Lyra hadn't noticed came out of the shadows with a tray of glasses, set it down by John Faa, curtsied, and left. John Faa poured little glasses of jenniver from a stone crock for himself and Farder Coram, and wine for Lyra.
«So,» John Faa said. «You run away, Lyra.»
«Yes.»
«And who was the lady you run away from?»
«She was called Mrs. Coulter. And I thought she was nice, but I found out she was one of the Gobblers. I heard someone say what the Gobblers were, they were called the General Oblation Board, and she was in charge of it, it was all her idea. And they was all working on some plan, I dunno what it was, only they was going to make me help her get kids for 'em. But they never knew…»
«They never knew what?»
«Well, first they never knew that I knew some kids what had been took. My friend Roger the kitchen boy from Jordan College, and Billy Costa, and a girl out the covered market in Oxford. And another thing…My uncle, right, Lord Asriel. 1 heard them talking about his journeys to the North, and I don't reckon he's got anything to do with the Gobblers. Because I spied on the Master and the Scholars of Jordan, right, I hid in the Retiring Room where no one's supposed to go except them, and I heard him tell them all about his expedition up north, and the Dust he saw, and he brought back the head of Stanislaus Grumman, what the Tartars had made a hole in. And now the Gobblers've got him locked up somewhere. The armored bears are guarding him. And I want to rescue him.»
She looked fierce and stubborn as she sat there, small against the high carved back of the chair. The two old men couldn't help smiling, but whereas Farder Coram's smile was a hesitant, rich, complicated expression that trembled across his face like sunlight chasing shadows on a windy March day, John Faa's smile was slow, warm, plain, and kindly.
«You better tell us what you did hear your uncle say that evening,» said John Faa. «Don't leave anything out, mind. Tell us everything.»
Lyra did, more slowly than she'd told the Costas but more honestly, too. She was afraid of John Faa, and what she was most afraid of was his kindness. When she'd finished, Farder Coram spoke for the first time. His voice was rich and musical, with as many tones in it as there were colors in his daemon's fur.
«This Dust,» he said. «Did they ever call it anything else, Lyra?»
«No. Just Dust. Mrs. Coulter told me what it was, elementary particles, but that's all she called it.»
«And they think that by doing something to children, they can find out more about it?»
«Yes. But I don't know what. Except my uncle…There's something I forgot to tell you. When he was showing them lantern slides, there was another one he had. It was the Roarer—»
«The what?» said John Faa.
«The Aurora,» said Farder Coram. «Is that right, Lyra?»
«Yeah, that's it. And in the lights of the Roarer there was like a city. All towers and churches and domes and that. It was a bit like Oxford, that's what I thought, anyway. And Uncle Asriel, he was more interested in that, I think, but the Master and the other Scholars were more interested in Dust, like Mrs. Coulter and Lord Boreal and them.»
«I see,» said Farder Coram. «That's very interesting.»
«Now, Lyra,» said John Faa, «I'm a going to tell you something. Farder Coram here, he's a wise man. He's a seer. He's been a follering all what's been going on with Dust and the Gobblers and Lord Asriel and everything else, and he's been a follering you. Every time the Costas went to Oxford, or half a dozen other families, come to that, they brought back a bit of news. About you, child. Did you know that?»
Lyra shook her head. She was beginning to be frightened. Pantalaimon was growling too deep for anyone to hear, but she could feel it in her fingertips down inside his fur.
«Oh, yes,» said John Faa, «all your doings, they all get back to Farder Coram here.»
Lyra couldn't hold it in.
«We didn't damage it! Honest! It was only a bit of mud! And we never got very far—»
«What are you talking about, child?» said John Faa.
Farder Coram laughed. When he did that, his shaking stopped and his face became bright and young.
But Lyra wasn't laughing. With trembling lips she said, «And even if we had found the bung, we'd never've took it out! It was just a joke. We wouldn't've sunk it, never!»
Then John Faa began to laugh too. He slapped a broad hand on the table so hard the glasses rang, and his massive shoulders shook, and he had to wipe away the tears from his eyes. Lyra had never seen such a sight, never heard such a bellow; it was like a mountain laughing.
«Oh, yes,» he said when he could speak again, «we heard about that too, little girl! I don't suppose the Costas have set foot anywhere since then without being reminded of it. You better leave a guard on your boat, Tony, people say. Fierce little girls round here! Oh, that story went all over the fens, child. But we en't going to punish you for it. No, no! Ease your mind.»
He looked at Farder Coram, and the two old men laughed again, but more gently. And Lyra felt contented, and safe.
Finally John Faa shook his head and became serious again.
«I were saying, Lyra, as we knew about you from a child. From a baby. You oughter know what we know. I can't guess what they told you at Jordan College about where you came from, but they don't know the whole truth of it. Did they ever tell you who your parents were?»
Now Lyra was completely dazed.
«Yes,» she said. «They said I was—they said they—they said Lord Asriel put me there because my mother and father died in an airship accident. That's what they told me.»
«Ah, did they. Well now, child, I'm a going to tell you a story, a true story. I know it's true, because a gyptian woman told me, and they all tell the truth to John Faa and Farder Coram. So this is the truth about yourself, Lyra. Your father never perished in no airship accident, because your father is Lord Asriel.»
Lyra could only sit in wonder.
«Here's how it came about,» John Faa went on. «When he was a young man, Lord Asriel went exploring all over the North, and came back with a great fortune. And he was a high-spirited man, quick to anger, a passionate man.
«And your mother, she was passionate too. Not so well born as him, but a clever woman. A Scholar, even, and those who saw her said she was very beautiful. She and your father, they fell in love as soon's they met.
«The trouble was, your mother was already married. She'd married a politician. He was a member of the king's party, one of his closest advisers. A rising man.