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THE SUBTLE KNIFE 作者:菲利普·普尔曼 英国)

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CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE BELVEDERE-1

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He stopped, because she began to say something, but she stopped as soon as he did. Then she collected herself and went on. "Will, there was something that happened yesterday that I didnt tell you. I shouldve, but there was just so many other things going on. Im sorry ..."

Lyra wasnt sure what he meant, but she didnt want to press him. His cheeks were red and his eyes were hot.

Then he said, "Its probably more important now to think about Sir Charles and what hell do, or Mrs. Coulter. Maybe if shes got this special bodyguard they were talking about, these soldiers whod had their daemons cut away, maybe Sir Charles is right and theyll be able to ignore the Specters. You know what I think? I think what they eat, the Specters, is peoples daemons."

"Will, you could cut a window!" Lyra said urgently, clutching his good arm. "We could get away, easy—"

"I just feel bad about it, Will. I mean, he was their brother. And I bet if we were them, wed have wanted the knife too."

"Because ... I think maybe they come from my world after all, the Specters. If they make people behave like that, I wouldnt be surprised at all if they came from my world. And when the Guild men opened their first window, if it was into my world, the Specters could have gone through then."

"Then it must be the difference between childrens daemons and grownups," Will said. "There is a difference, isnt there? You told me once that grownups daemons dont change shape. It must be something to do with that. And if these soldiers of hers havent got daemons at all, maybe the Specters wont attack them either, like Sir Charles said...."

Theres Angelicas brother for a start. And if—"

long unsteady walk.

"Theres Angelica," Lyra whispered, pointing.

Will hadnt realized how worried hed been. At this good news he felt himself relax, and as a little tension left his body, he felt the pain of his wound more sharply.

He checked that the knife was strapped to his belt, and Lyra put on her little rucksack with the alethiometer and the letters from Wills father. They ran through the echoing hall, along the corridor and into the kitchen, through the scullery, and into a cobbled court beyond it. A gate in the wall led out into a kitchen garden, where beds of vegetables and herbs lay baking under the morning sun.

"You better ask the alethiometer what to do next," he said. "Have you asked it anything yet?"

But before she could even begin, they heard a shout from outside.

She ran some hot water, and he stripped to his underpants.

With Pantalaimon flying above to keep watch, they set off across the grass. But it was tussocky and ankle-high, and Will couldnt run more than a few steps before he felt too dizzy to carry on.

Maybe theyd take a while to look through all the rooms....

He felt dizzy. He supposed hed lost a lot of blood; well, there was no need to suppose, with the evidence all over him. And the wounds were still bleeding.

Both Will and Lyra stood up. The children were coming out of the trees, one by one, maybe forty or fifty of them. Many of them were carrying sticks. At their head was the boy in the striped Tshirt, and it wasnt a stick that he was carrying: it was a pistol.

"Yes," he said, "but we cant go back and change what happened. We had to get the knife to get the alethiometer back, and if we could have got it without fighting, we would."

In the great white villa in the park Will slept uneasily, plagued with dreams that were filled with anxiety and with sweetness in equal measure, so that he struggled to wake up and yet longed for sleep again. When his eyes were fully open, he felt so drowsy that he could scarcely move, and then he sat up to find his bandage loose and his bed crimson.

She was badly worried about his hand; not only were the wounds bleeding freely still, but the rest of the hand was swollen and red. But he said nothing about it, and neither did she.

"Butyou dont have Specters in your world! You never heard of them, did you?"

And now that she knows weve got the knife, shell tell all of em. Shell think its our fault that her brother was attacked by Specters. Im sorry, Will. I shouldve told you earlier. But there was just so many other things."

She unfolded the velvet bundle and ran her hands lovingly over the heavy gold.

"No. Ask about my mother first. I want to know if shes all right."

Lyra looked back. The children hadnt seen them yet; they were still at the front of the house.

Probably in the main street in front of a bus. I cant just cut through anywhere and expect to be safe—Ive got to look first and see where we are, and thatd take too long. Theres a forest or woods or something behind this house. If we can get up there in the trees, we11 be safer."

"Come on, Will," Lyra said.

He struggled out of bed and made his way through the heavy, dust-filled sunlight and silence of the great house down to the kitchen. He and Lyra had slept in servants rooms under the attic, not feeling welcomed by the stately four-poster beds in the grand rooms farther down, and it was a

They were shouting, and Will managed to make out Angelicas voice high over them all: "You killed my brother and you stole the knife! You murderers! You made the Specters get him! You killed him, and well kill you! You ain gonna get away! We gonna kill you same as you killed him!"

"Well," he said, "I dont suppose it would have made any difference. He was torturing the old man, and once he knew how to use the knife hed have killed both of us if he could. We had to fight him."

And she told him everything shed seen through the window of the tower while Giacomo Paradisi was dressing Wills wound: Tullio beingbeset by the Specters, Angelica seeing her at the window and her look of hatred, and Paolos threat.

"He ..." She tried to remember exactly. "He started counting the stones in the wall. He sort of felt all over them.... But he couldnt keep it up. In the end he sort of lost interest and stopped. Then he was just still," she finished, and seeing Wills expression she said, "Why?"

"Maybe theyre not called Specters. Maybe we call them something else."

The edge of the woods was a few hundred yards away, up a slope of grass that was horribly exposed. On a knoll to the left, closer than the trees, stood a little building, a circular temple-like structure with columns all the way around and an upper story open like a balcony from which to view the city.

"What did it look like, when he was attacked?" Will said. To her surprise he was sitting forward, his eyes demanding and urgent.

Lord Boreal is strong and clever, but shell have him doing what she wants in no time. Oh, Will, Im getting scared again, thinking what she might do ... Im going to ask the alethiometer, like you said. Thank goodness we got that back, anyway."

Lyra nodded, and turned the hands before laying the alethiometer in her lap and tucking her hair behind her ears to look down and concentrate. Will watched the light needle swing purposefully around the dial, darting and stopping and darting on as swiftly as a swallow feeding, and he watched Lyras eyes, so blue and fierce and full of clear understanding.

"No," she said. "Im only going to do what you ask, from now on. I thought of doing it last night, but I never did. And I wont, either, unless you ask me to."

"Shes safe still," she said. "This friend thats looking after her, shes ever so kind. No one knows where your mother is, and the friend wont give her away."

Like lorek Byrnison, Will was a fighter truly enough, so she was prepared to agree with him when he said it would be better not to fight; she knew it wasnt cowardice that spoke, but strategy. He was calmer now, and his cheeks were pale again. He was looking into the middle distance and thinking.

Then she made the coffee and toasted some stale bread, and they took it into the grand room at the front of the house, overlooking the city. When hed eaten and drunk, he felt a little better.

He was too faint and dizzy to feel embarrassed, but Lyra became embarrassed for Mm and went out. He washed as best he could and then dried himself on the tea towels that hung on a line by the stove.

Then she blinked and looked up.

"Will—" she said at once, her voice full of concern, and she turned from the stove to help him to a chair.

Angelica was beside the leading boy, tugging at his arm, urging him on. Just behind them her little brother, Paolo, was shrieking with excitement, and the other children, too, were yelling and waving their fists in the air. Two of them were lugging heavy rifles. Will had seen children in this mood before, but never so many of them, and the ones in his town didnt carry guns.

Lyra looked out the window, furious. "They mustve seen us last night," she said. "I bet they was too cowardly to attack us on their own, so they rounded up all them others.... I should have killed her yesterday! Shes as bad as her brother. Id like to—"

"Well, you better do it now," he said. "Theres as much danger here as there is in my world, now.

"Anyway," she went on, turning away, "the important thing is that Angelica saw me in the window.

They looked out at once. At the lower edge of the park in front of the first houses of the city there was a belt of trees, and something was stirring there. Pantalaimon became a lynx at once and padded to the open door, gazing fiercely down.

"Yeah, and where would we be? In Oxford, a few yards from Sir Charless house, in broad daylight.

But Pantalaimon chirruped in alarm. There was a boy standing at an open window on the second floor of the villa, pointing at them. They heard a shout.

When she came back, shed found some clothes for him, just a shirt and canvas trousers and a belt. He put them on, and she tore a fresh tea towel into strips and bandaged him tightly again.

"Thank you," he said. "All right, now ask about my father—"

"Lets run," said Will, though he felt less like running than like lying down and closing his eyes.

"Stop talking and come on," said Will.

"I was just making some coffee," she said. "Do you want that first, or shall I do another bandage? I can do whichever you want. And theres eggs in the cold cabinet, but I cant find any baked beans."

"But children have daemons too. And they dont attack children. It cant be that."

"And dyou remember," she went on, "when she first spoke to us? Her little brother said something about what they were all doing. He said, Hes gonna get— and she wouldnt let him finish; she smacked him, remember? I bet he was going to say Tullio was after the knife, and thats why all the kids came here. Cause if they had the knife, they could do anything, they could even grow up without being afraid of Specters."

He slowed to a walk.

"This isnt a baked beans kind of house. Bandage first. Is there any hot water in the tap? I want to wash. I hate being covered in this..."

"Yeah!" she said. "Could be. And she wouldnt be afraid of Specters anyway. She ent afraid of anything. And shes so clever, Will, honest, and shes so ruthless and cruel, she could boss them, I bet she could. She could command them like she does people and theyd have to obey her, I bet.

"Its the children," he said.

"Yeah, we would," she said.

"Im going to ask about your father," she said, "and how we can find him. See, I put the hands to point at—"

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