Lyra stood up to join Will. Her wound had opened again, and fresh blood was trickling down her cheek, but she wiped it aside. “Will,” she said, “I’m so glad we came down here together…” He heard a tone in her voice, and he saw an expression on her face, which he knew and liked more than anything he’d ever known: it showed she was thinking of something daring, but she wasn’t ready to speak of it yet.
