«You were with my father all the time?»
«Every moment.»
«Did he know?»
«He had no idea.»
«Why didn't you stop the witch, then? Why did you let her kill him?»
«We would have done, earlier. But his task was over once he'd led us to you.»
Will said nothing. His head was ringing; this was no less difficult to understand than anything else.
«All right,» he said finally. «I'll come with you. But first I must wake Lyra.»
They stood aside to let him pass, and he felt a tingle in the air as he went close to them, but he ignored it and concentrated on getting down the slope toward the little shelter where Lyra was sleeping.
But something made him stop.
In the dimness, he could see the witches who had been guarding Lyra all sitting or standing still. They looked like statues, except that they were breathing, but they were scarcely alive. There were several black-silk-clad bodies on the ground, too, and as he gazed in horror from one to another of them, Will saw what must have happened: they had been attacked in midair by the Specters, and had fallen to their deaths, indifferently.
But —
«Where's Lyra?» he cried aloud.
The hollow under the rock was empty. Lyra was gone.
There was something under the overhang where she'd been lying. It was Lyra's little canvas rucksack, and from the weight of it he knew without looking that the alethiometer was still inside it.
Will was shaking his head. It couldn't be true, but it was: Lyra was gone, Lyra was captured, Lyra was lost.
The two dark figures of the bene elim had not moved. But they spoke: «You must come with us now. Lord Asriel needs you at once. The enemy's power is growing every minute. The shaman has told you what your task is. Follow us and help us win. Come with us. Come this way. Come now.»
And Will looked from them to Lyra's rucksack and back again, and he didn't hear a word they said.
END OF BOOK TWO