She stood watching them all the way to the foot of the slope. Where does he come from? Can you tell me about his people? He shouldered his pack, left the garden, and set off through the hot, silent streets, satisfied. If there were myriads of worlds, why did the knife only open windows between this one and his own? Before she could utter it, another witch, who had been present under a spell of invisibility, managed to kill her and escape. If there is war, we shall be needed. Up you come, my love. Lyra went and looked, and came back at once, looking pale. Their word for themselves as a people was mulefa, but an individual was a zalif. Mary thought there was a difference between the sounds for hezalif and sheali, but it was too subtle for her to imitate easily. She began to write it all down and compile a dictionary. And then his heart sank. Instead, you chose to skulk in a mountain cave, though how a woman of your intelligence hoped to remain hidden is a mystery to me. He became a dragonfly, as big as the two that were skimming through the air as they spoke, and darted up to join them. She was expecting that. Lyra lay hot and almost as restless, but deep, deep asleep, locked into oblivion by the draught her mother had forced down her only an hour before. It seemed to have been long planned, this meeting, for they all knew where to go and what to expect. The smoke of the cooking fires hung in the evening air, and the setting sun spread its own kind of hazy gold over everything. Mary was aware of the smell of roasting corn, and the warm smell of the mulefa themselves, part oil, part warm flesh, a sweet horselike smell. Now then, how soon can it be ready? He was a body still, and not a skeleton, because the witch had laid a spell to preserve him from corruption. Iorek could see the face of his old comrade drawn and tight with the pain of his wounds, and see the jagged holes in his garments where the bullets had entered. And then came a curious little mental dance of sympathy and awkwardness, which took place in a second or less. He wanted to speak to me. Because it was nourishing. Because it was feeding us. Because it was true. Because we had no idea that there was anything but wickedness. Because it brought us news of the world and the sun and the wind and the rain. Because it was true. And do it now. Is there one nearby? Will thought, and he saw her in the same moment dodging down a different path. Their faces were scratched, their clothes were snagged, their ankles twisted on roots and rocks, but they found the window and tumbled through, into the other world, onto the bonewhite rocks under the glaring moon, where only the scraping of the insects broke the immense silence. You are kind and hospitable.