"But you must wait for Lord Asriels gyropters," said Tialys, his voice hard.
"But I think I have stepped outside bear nature in mending this knife. I think Ive been as foolish as lofur Rakinson. Time will tell. But I am uncertain and doubtful. Now you must tell me: why did the knife break?"
"Can is not the same as must."
But it did look different. It was shorter, and much less elegant, and there was a dull silver surface over each of the joins. It looked ugly now; it looked like what it was, wounded.
"While you are alive, your business is with life."
"He is too alert. He watches everywhere for us," said Salmakia. "The girl is more trusting. I think we could win her around. Shes innocent, and she loves easily. We could work on her. I think we should do that, Tialys."
The knife tip leapt on the rock under the massive blow. Will was thinking that the whole of the rest of his life depended on what happened in that tiny triangle of metal, that point that searched out the gaps inside the atoms, and all his nerves trembled, sensing every flicker of every flame and the loosening of every atom in the lattice of the metal. Before this began, he had supposed that only a full-scale furnace, with the finest tools and equipment, could work on that blade; but now he saw that these were the finest tools, and that Ioreks artistry had constructed the best furnace there could be.
There Iorek carried out the last process in the mending of the subtle knife. He laid it among the brighter cinders until the blade was glowing, and Will and Lyra saw a hundred colors swirling in the smoky depths of the metal, and when he judged the moment was right, Iorek told Will to take it and plunge it directly into the snow that had drifted outside.
Will was tempted to say, "You wouldnt have done that if Id had the knife in my hand." But he knew that Iorek knew that, and knew that he knew it, and that it would be discourteous and stupid to say it; but he was tempted, all the same.
He let them through and closed it behind them at once. While he and Lyra lay down where they were, exhausted, the Lady Salmakia kept watch, and the Chevalier opened his lodestone resonator and began to play a message into the dark.
"Were not going to," said Will. "If you come near the knife, Ill kill you. Come through with us if you must, but you cant make us stay here. Were leaving."
"But Im divided, Im pulled apart, because also I want to go back and look after my mother, because I could, and also the angel Balthamos told me I should go to Lord Asriel and offer the knife to him, and I think maybe he was right as well..."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Yes, we have," said Will, "weve thought hard, and well tell you what weve thought tomorrow. You can come where were going, or you can go back to Lord Asriel."
"But if you must and you can, then theres no excuse."
He walked with Iorek up the slope toward the cave, where the fire glow still shone warmly in the vast surrounding dark.
Will felt his whole being quiver under the blows of the stone hammer in the bears fist. The second piece of the blade was heating, too, and Lyras leafy branch sent the hot gas along to bathe both pieces in its flow and keep out the iron-eating air. Will sensed it all and felt the atoms of the metal linking each to each across the fracture, forming new crystals again, strengthening and straightening themselves in the invisible lattice as the join came good.
He held his tongue until he was standing upright, facing Iorek directly.
"I dont know."
"I know itll work."
Will rubbed his aching head with both hands.
With Pantalaimon tiger-formed to deter the spies, they hoped, Will and Lyra went back and picked up their rucksacks.
"I love him so much, Will!" she managed to whisper shakily. "And he looked old! He looked hungry and old and sad... Is it all coming onto us now, Will? We cant rely on anyone else now, can we... Its just us. But we ent old enough yet. Were only young... Were too young... If poor Mr. Scoresbys dead and Ioreks old... Its all coming onto us, whats got to be done."
He went outside and found Lyra standing still, weeping, with Pantalaimon as a wolf raising his face to the black sky. She was quite silent. The only light came from the pale reflection in the snowbank of the remains of the fire, and that, in turn, was reflected from her wet cheeks, and her tears found their own reflection in Wills eyes, and so those photons wove the two children together in a silent web.
"He fled," said the bear.
Will followed the great bear out onto the dark mountainside. The cold was bitter and instantaneous, after the inferno in the cave.
"Do I? Yes... I suppose I do."
"The woman looked at me and I thought she had the face of my mother," he said, trying to recollect the experience with all the honesty he had. "And the knife came up against something it couldnt cut, and because my mind was pushing it through and forcing it back both at the same time, it snapped. Thats what I think. The woman knew what she was doing, Im sure. Shes very clever."
"When you talk of the knife, you talk of your mother and father."
"We can do it," he said. "Im not going to look back anymore. We can do it. But weve got to sleep now, and if we stay in this world, those gyropter things might come, the ones the spies sent for... Im going to cut through now and well find another world to sleep in, and if the spies come with us, thats too bad; well have to get rid of them another time."
Will had no words, though his breast and his throat were full. He managed to say, "Thank you, Iorek Byrnison," but that was all he could say.
Iorek roared above the clangor, "Hold it still in your mind! You have to forge it, too! This is your task as much as mine!"
Eventually the hammer was formed to Ioreks satisfaction, and he set the first two pieces of the blade of the subtle knife among the fierce-burning wood at the heart of the fire, and told Lyra to begin wafting the stone-gas over them. The bear watched, his long white face lurid in the glare, and Will saw the surface of the metal begin to glow red and then yellow and then white.
Lyra felt Pantalaimon trembling and stroked him with her sore hands.
"And what was that?"
Meanwhile, Iorek himself was grinding and hammering a fist-sized stone, having rejected several until he found one of the right weight. With massive blows he shaped it and smoothed it, the cordite smell of smashed rocks joining the smoke in the nostrils of the two spies, watching from high up. Even Pantalaimon was active, changing to a crow so he could flap his wings and make the fire burn faster.
"Here, well sleep here, thisll do."
"It came to me in a dream, Iorek. I saw Rogers ghost, and I knew he was calling to me... You remember
"No, Iorek," she said gently, "our business is to keep promises, no matter how difficult they are. You know, secretly, Im deadly scared. And I wish Id never had that dream, and I wish Will hadnt thought of using the knife to go there. But we did, so we cant get out of it."
"Now Im going to say farewell to Lyra. You must wait in the cave; those two spies will not let you out of their sight, and I do not want them listening when I speak to her."
"No," said Lyra, "except that it was by a river."
The rosewood handle was charred and scorched, but Will wrapped his hand in several folds of a shirt and did as Iorek told him. In the hiss and flare of steam, he felt the atoms finally settle together, and he knew that the knife was as keen as before, the point as infinitely rare.
But when her hands were free of soot and dirt, Iorek spoke. She felt his voice vibrate against her back.
The window opened onto the world into which he had escaped with Baruch and Balthamos, and where hed slept safely: the warm endless beach with the fernlike trees behind the dunes. He said:
She reached up and put her arms around his neck, and pressed her face into his fur, unable to speak.
Will didnt answer. He felt forward in the dim air and cut an opening.
"He wont go anywhere without her."
At that moment the Gallivespians, too, were talking about the knife. Having made a suspicious peace with Iorek Byrnison, they climbed back to their ledge to be out of the way, and as the crackle of flames rose and the snapping and roaring of the fire filled the air, Tialys said, "We must never leave his side. As soon as the knife is mended, we must keep closer than a shadow."
"But when the first bear made the first piece of armor, wasnt that bad, too, in the same way?"
Iorek came down slowly to where Will was struggling up, and said, "Answer me truthfully."
But Will didnt touch the knife: he held his palm close by, and the heat was still too great for his hand. The spies relaxed on the rocky shelf as Iorek said to Will:
"The edge!" roared Iorek. "Hold the edge in line!"
Roger. Well, after we left you, he was killed, and it was my fault, at least I felt it was. And I think I should just finish what I began, thats all: I should go and say sorry, and if I can, I should rescue him from there. If Will can open a way to the world of the dead, then we must do it."
So Will watched as the flames roared along the resinous twigs, and with streaming eyes and scorched hands he adjusted each fresh branch till the heat was focused as Iorek wanted it.
Then he said to Lyra: "Stay here, and dont touch the knife."
"Yes, I think it might have been, too. But before that first armored bear, there were no others. We know of nothing before that. That was when custom began. We know our customs, and they are firm and solid and we follow them without change. Bear nature is weak without custom, as bear flesh is unprotected without armor.
"Going into another world," said Will, taking out the knife. It felt like being whole again; he hadnt realized how much he loved it.
"I said I dont know," he said, trying hard to keep his voice calm, "because I havent looked clearly at what it is that Im going to do. At what it means. It frightens me. And it frightens Lyra, too. Anyway, I agreed as soon as I heard what she said."
armor. Will could smell the claws burning, but Iorek took no notice of that, and moving with extraordinary speed he adjusted the angle at which the pieces overlapped and then raised his left paw high and struck a blow with the rock hammer.
He meant with your mind, and Will did it instantly, sensing the minute snags and then the minute easement as the edges lined up perfectly. Then that join was made, and Iorek turned to the next piece.
Salmakia said, "This is a mistake. You should realize that, and listen to us. You havent thought...”
"Lyra Silvertongue, what is this plan to visit the dead?"
"Well see. But youre right, Tialys, I think. We must stay close to the boy at all costs."
"And I shall tell you one thing. You know it already, but you dont want to, which is why I tell you openly, so that you dont mistake it. If you want to succeed in this task, you must no longer think about your mother. You must put her aside. If your mind is divided, the knife will break.
Will checked the fuel and snapped a branch in two to direct the flames better, and Iorek began to work with the hammer once more. Will felt a new layer of complexity added to his task, because he had to hold the new piece in a precise relation with both the previous two, and he understood that only by doing that accurately could he help Iorek mend it.
After a minute he stood up gently and disengaged her arms, and then he turned and walked silently away into the dark. Lyra thought his outline was lost almost at once against the pallor of the snow-covered ground, but it might have been that her eyes were full of tears.
"We want to go down to the land of the dead and talk to the ghost of Lyras friend Roger, the one who
"You lied!"
Iorek was silent. They walked on till they came to a big drift of snow, and Iorek lay in it and rolled this way and that, sending flurries of snow up into the dark air, so that it looked as if he himself were made of snow, he was the personification of all the snow in the world.
"Come outside."
"He wasnt a warrior. He did as much as he could, and then he couldnt do any more. He wasnt the only one to be afraid; Im afraid, too. So I have to think it through. Maybe sometimes we dont do the right thing because the wrong thing looks more dangerous, and we dont want to look scared, so we go and do the wrong thing just because its dangerous. Were more concerned with not looking scared than with judging right. Its very hard. Thats why I didnt answer you."
both palms. "Lets do that. You sure the knife will work? You tested it?"
"Im going back north, with my people. We cant live in the mountains. Even the snow is different. I thought we could live here, but we can live more easily in the sea, even if it is warm.
So the work continued. He had no idea how long it took; Lyra, for her part, found her arms aching, her eyes streaming, her skin scorched and red, and every bone in her body aching with fatigue; but still she placed each stone as Iorek had told her, and still the weary Pantalaimon raised his wings readily and beat them over the flames.
By this time the heat in the cave was intense. Iorek continued to build the fire, and made the children take two more trips down the path to ensure that there was enough fuel for the whole operation.
Iorek had taken her a little farther up the slope, to a point out of sight of the cave, and there he had let her sit cradled in the shelter of his great arms, with Pantalaimon nestling mouse-formed at her breast. Iorek bent his head over her and nuzzled at her scorched and smoky hands. Without a word he began to lick them clean; his tongue was soothing on the burns, and she felt as safe as she had ever felt in her life.
"But where are you going?"
"But she has to follow him, if he has the knife. And I think that as soon as the knifes intact again, theyll use it to slip into another world, so as to get away from us. Did you see how he stopped her from speaking when she was going to say something more? They have some secret purpose, and its very different from what we want them to do."
Will was placed in charge of the fire, and Iorek spent several minutes directing him and making sure he understood the principles he was to use. So much depended on exact placement, and Iorek could not stop and correct each one; Will had to understand, and then hed do it properly.
Suddenly Iorek lunged at Will and cuffed him hard with his left paw: so hard that Will fell half-stunned into the snow and tumbled over and over until he ended some way down the slope with his head ringing.
"No," said Lyra, "I lied. Will doesnt lie. You didnt think of that."
got killed on Svalbard. And if there really is a world of the dead, then my father will be there, too, and if we can talk to ghosts, I want to talk to him.
The bear sensed this, too, and paused before he began heating the last piece. He looked at Will, and in his eyes Will could see nothing, no expression, just a bottomless black brilliance. Nevertheless, he understood: this was work, and it was hard, but they were equal to it, all of them.
So he and Iorek and Lyra together forged the knife, and how long the final join took he had no idea; but when Iorek had struck the final blow, and Will had felt the final tiny settling as the atoms connected across the break, Will sank down onto the floor of the cave and let exhaustion possess him. Lyra nearby was in the same state, her eyes glassy and red-rimmed, her hair full of soot and smoke; and Iorek himself stood heavy-headed, his fur singed in several places, dark streaks of ash marking its rich cream-white.
"If you do not find a way out of the world of the dead, we shall not meet again, because I have no ghost. My body will remain on the earth, and then become part of it. But if it turns out that you and I both survive, then you will always be a welcome and honored visitor to Svalbard; and the same is true of Will. Has he told you what happened when we met?"
"Yes," she said, and sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose and rubbed her eyes with
Lyra sat close to the anvil, where the knife lay cooling, and Iorek told her to bank the fire up and not let it burn down: there was a final operation yet.
That was enough for Will, so he turned back to the fire and sent his imagination out to the broken end of the haft, and braced himself for the last and fiercest part of the task.
"A new stone," he called to Lyra, who knocked the first one aside and placed a second on the spot to heat.
When Will heard her footsteps on the path, he looked at the spies and said, "Dont you move. Look, heres the knife, Im not going to use it. Stay here."
"They should not have made that knife," said Iorek, after they had walked a little way. "Maybe I should not have mended it. Im troubled, and I have never been troubled before, never in doubt. Now I am full of doubt. Doubt is a human thing, not a bear thing. If I am becoming human, somethings wrong, somethings bad. And Ive made it worse."
That was worth learning. And besides, I think we will be needed. I can feel war, Lyra Silvertongue; I can smell it; I can hear it. I spoke to Serafina Pekkala before I came this way, and she told me she was going to Lord Faa and the gyptians. If there is war, we shall be needed."
"I see," said the bear.
Iorek was watching closely, his paw held ready to snatch the pieces out. After a few moments the metal changed again, and the surface became shiny and glistening, and sparks just like those from a firework sprayed up from it.
Tialys and Salmakia had slept in turns, one of them always alert. Now she was awake and he was sleeping, but as the blade cooled from red to gray and finally to silver, and as Will reached out for the handle, she woke her partner with a hand on his shoulder. He was alert at once.
"We dont know how to get there, though," she went on. "We wont know anything till we try. What are you going to do, Iorek?"
When it came to the final join, Wills head was ringing, and he was so exhausted by the intellectual effort he could barely lift the next branch onto the fire. He had to understand every connection, or the knife would not hold together. And when it came to the most complex one, the last, which would affix the nearly finished blade onto the small part remaining at the handle, if he couldnt hold it in his full consciousness together with all the others, then the knife would simply fall apart as if Iorek had never begun.
"But he has the knife. He is the one who can use it."
They both watched with some skepticism as Iorek Byrnison laid out the tools in his improvised workshop. The mighty workers in the ordnance factories under Lord Asriels fortress, with their blast furnaces and rolling mills, their anbaric forges and hydraulic presses, would have laughed at the open fire, the stone hammer, the anvil consisting of a piece of Ioreks armor. Nevertheless, the bear had taken the measure of the task, and in the certainty of his movements the little spies began to see some quality that muffled their scorn.
Furthermore, he mustnt expect the knife to look exactly the same when it was mended. It would be shorter, because each section of the blade would have to overlap the next by a little way so they could be forged together; and the surface would have oxidized a little, despite the stone-gas, so some of the play of color would be lost; and no doubt the handle would be charred. But the blade would be just as sharp, and it would work.
Lyra sat up, excited at hearing the names of her old friends. But Iorek hadnt finished. He went on:
When Lyra and Will came in with the bushes, Iorek directed them in placing branches carefully on the fire. He looked at each branch, turning it from side to side, and then told Will or Lyra to place it at such-and-such an angle, or to break off part and place it separately at the edge. The result was a fire of extraordinary ferocity, with all its energy concentrated at one side.
Lyra set about searching, and with owl-eyed Pantalaimons help soon had a dozen or more stones to hand. Iorek told her how to place them, and where, and showed her exactly the kind of draft she should get moving, with a leafy branch, to make sure the gas flowed evenly over the work piece.
When he was finished, he rolled over and stood up and shook himself vigorously, and then, seeing Will still waiting for an answer to his question, said:
"What are you doing?" said Salmakia.
When it was cool enough, he packed it away in the rucksack and sat, ignoring the spies, to wait for Lyra to come back.
Then the bear turned over a small stone on the floor and told Lyra to find some more stones of the same kind. He said that those stones, when heated, gave off a gas that would surround the blade and keep the air from it, for if the hot metal came in contact with the air, it would absorb some and be weakened by it.
Then Iorek moved. His right paw darted in and seized first one piece and then the other, holding them between the tips of his massive claws and placing them on the slab of iron that was the backplate of his
They stood in silence for what felt like a long time, especially to Will, who had little protection from the bitter cold. But Iorek hadnt finished yet, and Will was still weak and dizzy from the blow, and didnt quite trust his feet, so they stayed where they were.
"Well, I have compromised myself in many ways," said the bear-king. "It may be that in helping you I have brought final destruction on my kingdom. And it may be that I have not, and that destruction was coming anyway; maybe I have held it off. So I am troubled, having to do un-bearlike deeds and speculate and doubt like a human.
"He outfaced me. I thought no one could ever do that, but this half-grown boy was too daring for me, and too clever. I am not happy that you should do what you plan, but there is no one I would trust to go with you except that boy. You are worthy of each other. Go well, Lyra Silvertongue, my dear friend."
