The witch Serafina Pekkala, who had rescued Lyra and the other children from the experimental station at Bolvangar and flown with her to the island of Svalbard, was deeply troubled.
In the atmospheric1 disturbances2 that followed Lord Asriel's escape from his exile on Svalbard, she and her companions were blown far from the island and many miles out over the frozen sea. Some of them managed to stay with the damaged balloon of Lee Scoresby, the Texan aeronaut, but Serafina herself was tossed high into the banks of fog that soon came rolling in from the gap that Lord Asriel's experiment had torn in the sky.
When she found herself able to control her flight once more, her first thought was of Lyra; for she knew nothing of the fight between the false bear-king and the true one, Iorek Byrnison, nor of what had happened to Lyra after that.
So she began to search for her, flying through the cloudy gold-tinged air on her branch of cloud-pine, accompanied by her daemon, Kaisa the snow goose. They moved back toward Svalbard and south a little, soaring for several hours under a sky turbulent with strange lights and shadows. Serafina Pekkala knew from the unsettling tingle3 of the light on her skin that it came from another world.
After some time had passed, Kaisa said, "Look! A witch's daemon, lost…"
Serafina Pekkala looked through the fog banks and saw a tern, circling and crying in the chasms4 of misty5 light. They wheeled and flew toward him. Seeing them come near, the tern darted6 up in alarm, but Serafina Pekkala signaled friendship, and he dropped down beside them.
Serafina Pekkala said, "What clan7 are you from?"
"Taymyr," he told her. "My witch is captured. Our companions have been driven away! I am lost!"
"Who has captured your witch?"
"The woman with the monkey daemon, from Bolvangar… Help me! Help us! I am so afraid!"
"Was your clan allied8 with the child cutters?"
"Yes, until we found out what they were doing. After the fight at Bolvangar they drove us off, but my witch was taken prisoner. They have her on a ship… What can I do? She is calling to me and I can't find her! Oh, help, help me!"
"Quiet," said Kaisa, the goose daemon. "Listen down below."
They glided9 lower, listening with keen ears, and Serafina Pekkala soon made out the beat of a gas engine, muffled10 by the fog.
"They can't navigate11 a ship in fog like this," Kaisa said. "What are they doing?"
"It's a smaller engine than that," said Serafina Pekkala, and as she spoke12 there came a new sound from a different direction: a low, brutal13, shuddering14 blast, like some immense sea creature calling from the depths. It roared for several seconds and then stopped abruptly15.
"The ship's foghorn16," said Serafina Pekkala.
They wheeled low over the water and cast about again for the sound of the engine. Suddenly they found it, for the fog seemed to have patches of different density17, and the witch darted up out of sight just in time as a launch came chugging slowly through the swathes of damp air. The swell18 was slow and oily, as if the water was reluctant to rise.
They swung around and above, the tern daemon keeping close like a child to its mother, and watched the steersman adjust the course slightly as the foghorn boomed again. There was a light mounted on the bow, but all it lit up was the fog a few yards in front.
Serafina Pekkala said to the lost daemon: "Did you say there are still some witches helping19 these people?"
"I think so—a few renegade witches from Volgorsk, unless they've fled too," he told her. "What are you going to do? Will you look for my witch?"
"Yes. But stay with Kaisa for now."
Serafina Pekkala flew down toward the launch, leaving the daemons out of sight above, and alighted on the counter just behind the steersman. His seagull daemon squawked, and the man turned to look.
"You taken your time, en't you?" he said. "Get up ahead and guide us in on the port side."
She took off again at once. It had worked: they still had some witches helping them, and he thought she was one. Port was left, she remembered, and the port light was red. She cast about in the fog until she caught its hazy20 glow no more than a hundred yards away. She darted back and hovered21 above the launch calling directions to the steersman, who slowed the craft down to a crawling pace and brought it in to the ship's gangway ladder that hung just above the water line. The steersman called, and a sailor threw a line from above, and another hurried down the ladder to make it fast to the launch.
Serafina Pekkala flew up to the ship's rail, and retreated to the shadows by the lifeboats. She could see no other witches, but they were probably patrolling the skies; Kaisa would know what to do.
Below, a passenger was leaving the launch and climbing the ladder. The figure was fur-swathed, hooded23, anonymous24; but as it reached the deck, a golden monkey daemon swung himself lightly up on the rail and glared around, his black eyes radiating malevolence25. Serafina caught her breath: the figure was Mrs. Coulter.
A dark-clothed man hurried out on deck to greet her, and looked around as if he were expecting someone else as well.
"Lord Boreal—" he began.
But Mrs. Coulter interrupted: "He has gone on elsewhere. Have they started the torture?"
"Yes, Mrs. Coulter," was the reply, "but—"
"I ordered them to wait," she snapped. "Have they taken to disobeying me? Perhaps there should be more discipline on this ship."
She pushed her hood22 back. Serafina Pekkala saw her face clearly in the yellow light: proud, passionate26, and, to the witch, so young.
"Where are the other witches?" she demanded.
The man from the ship said, "All gone, ma'am. Red to their homeland."
"But a witch guided the launch in," said Mrs. Coulter. "Where has she gone?"
Serafina shrank back; obviously the sailor in the launch hadn't heard the latest state of things. The cleric looked around, bewildered, but Mrs. Coulter was too impatient, and after a cursory27 glance above and along the deck, she shook her head and hurried in with her daemon through the open door that cast a yellow nimbus on the air. The man followed.
Serafina Pekkala looked around to check her position. She was concealed28 behind a ventilator on the narrow area of decking between the rail and the central superstructure of the ship; and on this level, facing forward below the bridge and the funnel29, was a saloon from which windows, not portholes, looked out on three sides. That was where the people had gone in. Light spilled thickly from the windows onto the fog-pearled railing, and dimly showed up the foremast and the canvas-covered hatch. Everything was wringing-wet and beginning to freeze into stiffness. No one could see Serafina where she was; but if she wanted to see any more, she would have to leave her hiding place.
That was too bad. With her pine branch she could escape, and with her knife and her bow she could fight. She hid the branch behind the ventilator and slipped along the deck until she reached the first window. It was fogged with condensation30 and impossible to see through, and Serafina could hear no voices, either. She withdrew to the shadows again.
There was one thing she could do; she was reluctant, because it was desperately31 risky32, and it would leave her exhausted33; but it seemed there was no choice. It was a kind of magic she could work to make herself unseen. True invisibility was impossible, of course: this was mental magic, a kind of fiercely held modesty34 that could make the spell worker not invisible but simply unnoticed. Holding it with the right degree of intensity35, she could pass through a crowded room, or walk beside a solitary36 traveler, without being seen.
So now she composed her mind and brought all her concentration to bear on the matter of altering the way she held herself so as to deflect37 attention completely. It took some minutes before she was confident. She tested it by stepping out of her hiding place and into the path of a sailor coming along the deck with a bag of tools. He stepped aside to avoid her without looking at her once.
She was ready. She went to the door of the brightly lit saloon and opened it, finding the room empty. She left the outer door ajar so that she could flee through it if she needed to, and saw a door at the far end of the room that opened on to a flight of stairs leading down into the bowels39 of the ship. She descended40, and found herself in a narrow corridor hung with white-painted pipework and illuminated41 with anbaric bulkhead lights, which led straight along the length of the hull42, with doors opening off it on both sides.
She walked quietly along, listening, until she heard voices. It sounded as if some kind of council was in session.
She opened the door and walked in.
A dozen or so people were seated around a large table. One or two of them looked up for a moment, gazed at her absently, and forgot her at once. She stood quietly near the door and watched. The meeting was being chaired by an elderly man in the robes of a Cardinal43, and the rest of them seemed to be clerics of one sort or another, apart from Mrs. Coulter, who was the only woman present. Mrs. Coulter had thrown her furs over the back of the chair, and her cheeks were flushed in the heat of the ship's interior.
Serafina Pekkala looked around carefully and saw someone else in the room as well: a thin-faced man with a frog daemon, seated to one side at a table laden45 with leather-bound books and loose piles of yellowed paper. She thought at first that he was a clerk or a secretary, until she saw what he was doing: he was intently gazing at a golden instrument like a large watch or a compass, stopping every minute or so to note what he found. Then he would open one of the books, search laboriously46 through the index, and look up a reference before writing that down too and turning back to the instrument.
Serafina looked back to the discussion at the table, because she heard the word witch.
"She knows something about the child," said one of the clerics. "She confessed that she knows something. All the witches know something about her."
"I am wondering what Mrs. Coulter knows," said the Cardinal. "Is there something she should have told us before, I wonder?"
"You will have to speak more plainly than that," said Mrs. Coulter icily. "You forget I am a woman, Your Eminence47, and thus not so subtle as a prince of the Church. What is this truth that I should have known about the child?"
The Cardinal's expression was full of meaning, but he said nothing. There was a pause, and then another cleric said almost apologetically: "It seems that there is a prophecy. It concerns the child, you see, Mrs. Coulter. All the signs have been fulfilled. The circumstances of her birth, to begin with. The gyptians know something about her too—they speak of her in terms of witch oil and marsh48 fire, uncanny, you see—hence her success in leading the gyptian men to Bolvangar. And then there's her astonishing feat49 of deposing50 the bear-king Lofur Raknison—this is no ordinary child. Fra Pavel can tell us more, perhaps…"
He glanced at the thin-faced man reading the alethiometer, who blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked at Mrs. Coulter.
"You may be aware that this is the only alethiometer left, apart from the one in the child's possession," he said. "All the others have been acquired and destroyed, by order of the Magisterium. I learn from this instrument that the child was given hers by the Master of Jordan College, and that she learned to read it by herself, and that she can use it without the books of readings. If it were possible to disbelieve the alethiometer, I would do so, because to use the instrument without the books is simply inconceivable to me. It takes decades of diligent51 study to reach any sort of understanding. She began to read it within a few weeks of acquiring it, and now she has an almost complete mastery. She is like no human Scholar I can imagine."
"Where is she now, Fra Pavel?" said the Cardinal.
"In the other world," said Fra Pavel. "It is already late."
"The witch knows!" said another man, whose muskrat53 daemon gnawed54 unceasingly at a pencil. "It's all in place but for the witch's testimony56! I say we should torture her again!"
"What is this prophecy?" demanded Mrs. Coulter, who had been getting increasingly angry. "How dare you keep it from me?"
Her power over them was visible. The golden monkey glared around the table, and none of them could look him in the face.
Only the Cardinal did not flinch57. His daemon, a macaw, lifted a foot and scratched her head.
"The witch has hinted at something extraordinary," the Cardinal said. "I dare not believe what I think it means. If it's true, it places on us the most terrible responsibility men and women have ever faced. But I ask you again, Mrs. Coulter—what do you know of the child and her father?"
Mrs. Coulter had lost her flush. Her face was chalk-white with fury.
"How dare you interrogate58 me?" she spat59. "And how dare you keep from me what you've learned from the witch? And, finally, how dare you assume that I am keeping something from you? D'you think I'm on her side? Or perhaps you think I'm on her father's side? Perhaps you think I should be tortured like the witch. Well, we are all under your command, Your Eminence. You have only to snap your fingers and you could have me torn apart. But if you searched every scrap60 of flesh for an answer, you wouldn't find one, because I know nothing of this prophecy, nothing whatever. And I demand that you tell me what you know. My child, my own child, conceived in sin and born in shame, but my child nonetheless, and you keep from me what I have every right to know!"
"Please," said another of the clerics nervously61. "Please, Mrs. Coulter, the witch hasn't spoken yet; we shall learn more from her. Cardinal Sturrock himself says that she's only hinted at it."
"And suppose the witch doesn't reveal it?" Mrs. Coulter said. "What then? We guess, do we? We shiver and quail62 and guess?"
Fra Pavel said, "No, because that is the question I am now preparing to put to the alethiometer. We shall find the answer, whether from the witch or from the books of readings."
"And how long will that take?"
He raised his eyebrows63 wearily and said, "A considerable time. It is an immensely complex question."
"But the witch would tell us at once," said Mrs. Coulter.
And she rose to her feet. As if in awe55 of her, most of the men did too. Only the Cardinal and Fra Pavel remained seated. Serafina Pekkala stood back, fiercely holding herself unseen. The golden monkey was gnashing his teeth, and all his shimmering64 fur was standing52 on end.
Mrs. Coulter swung him up to her shoulder. "So let us go and ask her," she said.
She turned and swept out into the corridor. The men hastened to follow her, jostling and shoving past Serafina Pekkala, who had only time to stand quickly aside, her mind in a turmoil65. The last to go was the Cardinal.
Serafina took a few seconds to compose herself, because her agitation66 was beginning to make her visible. Then she followed the clerics down the corridor and into a smaller room, bare and white and hot, where they were all clustered around the dreadful figure in the center: a witch bound tightly to a steel chair, with agony on her gray face and her legs twisted and broken.
Mrs. Coulter stood over her. Serafina took up a position by the door, knowing that she could not stay unseen for long; this was too hard.
"Tell us about the child, witch," said Mrs. Coulter.
"No!"
"You will suffer."
"I have suffered enough."
"Oh, there is more suffering to come. We have a thousand years of experience in this Church of ours. We can draw out your suffering endlessly. Tell us about the child," Mrs. Coulter said, and reached down to break one of the witch's fingers. It snapped easily.
The witch cried out, and for a clear second Serafina Pekkala became visible to everyone, and one or two of the clerics looked at her, puzzled and fearful; but then she controlled herself again, and they turned back to the torture.
Mrs. Coulter was saying, "If you don't answer I'll break another finger, and then another. What do you know about the child? Tell me."
"All right! Please, please, no more!"
"Answer then."
There came another sickening crack, and this time a flood of sobbing67 broke from the witch. Serafina Pekkala could hardly hold herself back. Then came these words, in a shriek68: "No, no! I'll tell you! I beg you, no more! The child who was to come… The witches knew who she was before you did… We found out her name…"
"We know her name. What name do you mean?"
"Her true name! The name of her destiny!"
"What is this name? Tell me!" said Mrs. Coulter.
"No… no…"
"And how? Found out how?"
"There was a test… If she was able to pick out one spray of cloud-pine from many others, she would be the child who would come, and it happened at our consul69's house at Trollesund, when the child came with the gyptian men… The child with the bear…"
Her voice gave out.
Mrs. Coulter gave a little exclamation70 of impatience71, and there came a loud slap, and a groan72.
"But what was your prophecy about this child?" Mrs. Coulter went on, and her voice was all bronze now, and ringing with passion. "And what is this name that will make her destiny clear?"
Serafina Pekkala moved closer, even among the tight throng73 of men around the witch, and none of them felt her presence at their very elbows. She must end this witch's suffering, and soon, but the strain of holding herself unseen was enormous. She trembled as she took the knife from her waist.
The witch was sobbing. "She is the one who came before, and you have hated and feared her ever since! Well, now she has come again, and you failed to find her… She was there on Svalbard—she was with Lord Asriel, and you lost her. She escaped, and she will be—"
But before she could finish, there came an interruption.
Through the open doorway74 there flew a tern, mad with terror, and it beat its wings brokenly as it crashed to the floor and struggled up and darted to the breast of the tortured witch, pressing itself against her, nuzzling, chirruping, crying, and the witch called in anguish75, "Yambe-Akka! Come to me, come to me!"
No one but Serafina Pekkala understood. Yambe-Akka was the goddess who came to a witch when she was about to die.
And Serafina was ready. She became visible at once and stepped forward smiling happily, because Yambe-Akka was merry and lighthearted and her visits were gifts of joy. The witch saw her and turned up her tear-stained face, and Serafina bent76 to kiss it and slid her knife gently into the witch's heart. The tern daemon looked up with dim eyes and vanished.
And now Serafina Pekkala would have to fight her way out.
The men were still shocked, disbelieving, but Mrs. Coulter recovered her wits almost at once.
"Seize her! Don't let her go!" she cried, but Serafina was already at the door, with an arrow nocked in her bowstring. She swung up the bow and loosed the arrow in less than a second, and the Cardinal fell choking and kicking to the floor.
Out, along the corridor to the stairs, turn, nock, loose, and another man fell; and already a loud jarring bell was filling the ship with its clangor.
Up the stairs and out onto the deck. Two sailors barred her way, and she said, "Down there! The prisoner has got loose! Get help!"
That was enough to puzzle them, and they stood undecided, which gave her time to dodge77 past and seize her cloud-pine from where she had hidden it behind the ventilator.
"Shoot her!" came a cry in Mrs. Coulter's voice from behind, and at once three rifles fired, and the bullets struck metal and whined78 off into the fog as Serafina leaped on the branch and urged it up like one of her own arrows. A few seconds later she was in the air, in the thick of the fog, safe, and then a great goose shape glided out of the wraiths79 of gray to her side.
"Where to?" he said.
"Away, Kaisa, away," she said. "I want to get the stench of these people out of my nose."
In truth, she didn't know where to go or what to do next. But there was one thing she knew for certain: there was an arrow in her quiver that would find its mark in Mrs. Coulter's throat.
They turned south, away from that troubling other-world gleam in the fog, and as they flew a question began to form more clearly in Serafina's mind. What was Lord Asriel doing? Because all the events that had overturned the world had their origin in his mysterious activities.
The problem was that the usual sources of her knowledge were natural ones. She could track any animal, catch any fish, find the rarest berries; and she could read the signs in the pine marten's entrails, or decipher the wisdom in the scales of a perch80, or interpret the warnings in the crocus pollen81; but these were children of nature, and they told her natural truths.
For knowledge about Lord Asriel, she had to go elsewhere. In the port of Trollesund, their consul Dr. Lanselius maintained his contact with the world of men and women, and Serafina Pekkala sped there through the fog to see what he could tell her. Before she went to his house she circled over the harbor, where wisps and tendrils of mist drifted ghostlike on the icy water, and watched as the pilot guided in a large vessel82 with an African registration83. There were several other ships riding at anchor outside the harbor. She had never seen so many.
As the short day faded, she flew down and landed in the back garden of the consul's house. She tapped on the window, and Dr. Lanselius himself opened the door, a finger to his lips.
"Serafina Pekkala, greetings," he said. "Come in quickly, and welcome. But you had better not stay long." He offered her a chair at the fireside, having glanced through the curtains out of a window that fronted the street. "You'll have some wine?"
She sipped84 the golden Tokay and told him of what she had seen and heard aboard the ship.
"Do you think they understood what she said about the child?" he asked.
"Not fully44, I think. But they know she is important. As for that woman, I'm afraid of her, Dr. Lanselius. I shall kill her, I think, but still I'm afraid of her."
"Yes," he said. "So am I."
And Serafina listened as he told her of the rumors85 that had swept the town. Amid the fog of rumor86, a few facts had begun to emerge clearly.
"They say that the Magisterium is assembling the greatest army ever known, and this is an advance party. And there are unpleasant rumors about some of the soldiers, Serafina Pekkala. I've heard about Bolvangar, and what they were doing there—cutting children's daemons away, the most evil work I've ever heard of. Well, it seems there is a regiment87 of warriors88 who have been treated in the same way. Do you know the word zombi? They fear nothing, because they're mindless. There are some in this town now. The authorities keep them hidden, but word gets out, and the townspeople are terrified of them."
"What of the other witch clans89?" said Serafina Pekkala. "What news do you have of them?"
"Most have gone back to their homelands. All the witches are waiting, Serafina Pekkala, with fear in their hearts, for what will happen next."
"And what do you hear of the Church?"
"They're in complete confusion. You see, they don't know what Lord Asriel intends to do."
"Nor do I," she said, "and I can't imagine what it might be. What do you think he's intending, Dr. Lanselius?"
He gently rubbed the head of his serpent daemon with his thumb. "He is a scholar," he said after a moment, "but scholarship is not his ruling passion. Nor is statesmanship. I met him once, and I thought he had an ardent90 and powerful nature, but not a despotic one. I don't think he wants to rule… I don't know, Serafina Pekkala. I suppose his servant might be able to tell you. He is a man called Thorold, and he was imprisoned91 with Lord Asriel in the house on Svalbard. It might be worth a visit there to see if he can tell you anything; but, of course, he might have gone into the other world with his master."
"Thank you. That's a good idea… I'll do it. And I'll go at once."
She said farewell to the consul and flew up through the gathering92 dark to join Kaisa in the clouds.
Serafina's journey to the north was made harder by the confusion in the world around her. All the Arctic peoples had been thrown into panic, and so had the animals, not only by the fog and the magnetic variations but by unseasonal crackings of ice and stirrings in the soil. It was as if the earth itself, the permafrost, were slowly awakening93 from a long dream of being frozen.
In all this turmoil, where sudden shafts94 of uncanny brilliance95 lanced down through rents in towers of fog and then vanished as quickly, where herds96 of muskox were seized by the urge to gallop97 south and then wheeled immediately to the west or the north again, where tight-knit skeins of geese disintegrated98 into a honking99 chaos100 as the magnetic fields they flew by wavered and snapped this way and that, Serafina Pekkala sat on her cloud-pine and flew north, to the house on the headland in the wastes of Svalbard.
There she found Lord Asriel's servant, Thorold, fighting off a group of cliff-ghasts.
She saw the movement before she came close enough to see what was happening. There was a swirl101 of lunging leathery wings, and a malevolent102 yowk-yowk-yowk resounding103 in the snowy courtyard. A single figure swathed in furs fired a rifle into the midst of them with a gaunt dog daemon snarling104 and snapping beside him whenever one of the filthy105 things flew low enough.
She didn't know the man, but a cliff-ghast was an enemy always. She swung around above and loosed a dozen arrows into the melee106. With shrieks107 and gibberings, the gang—too loosely organized to be called a troop—circled, saw their new opponent, and fled in confusion. A minute later the skies were bare again, and their dismayed yowk-yowk-yowk echoed distantly off the mountains before dwindling108 into silence.
Serafina flew down to the courtyard and alighted on the trampled109, blood-sprinkled snow. The man pushed back his hood, still holding his rifle warily110, because a witch was an enemy sometimes, and she saw an elderly man, long-jawed and grizzled and steady-eyed.
"I am a friend of Lyra's," she said. "I hope we can talk. Look: I lay my bow down."
"Where is the child?" he said.
"In another world. I'm concerned for her safety. And I need to know what Lord Asriel is doing."
He lowered the rifle and said, "Step inside, then. Look: I lay my rifle down."
The formalities exchanged, they went indoors. Kaisa glided through the skies above, keeping watch, while Thorold brewed111 some coffee and Serafina told him of her involvement with Lyra.
"She was always a willful child," he said when they were seated at the oaken table in the glow of a naphtha lamp. "I'd see her every year or so when his lordship visited his college. I was fond of her, mind—you couldn't help it. But what her place was in the wider scheme of things, I don't know."
"What was Lord Asriel planning to do?"
"You don't think he told me, do you, Serafina Pekkala? I'm his manservant, that's all. I clean his clothes and cook his meals and keep his house tidy. I may have learned a thing or two in the years I been with his lordship, but only by picking 'em up accidental. He wouldn't confide38 in me any more than in his shaving mug."
"Then tell me the thing or two you've learned by accident," she insisted.
Thorold was an elderly man, but he was healthy and vigorous, and he felt flattered by the attention of this young witch and her beauty, as any man would. He was shrewd, though, too, and he knew the attention was not really on him but on what he knew; and he was honest, so he did not draw out his telling for much longer than he needed.
"I can't tell you precisely112 what he's doing," he said, "because all the philosophical113 details are beyond my grasp. But I can tell you what drives his lordship, though he doesn't know I know. I've seen this in a hundred little signs. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the witch people have different gods from ours, en't that right?"
"Yes, that's true."
"But you know about our God? The God of the Church, the one they call the Authority?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well, Lord Asriel has never found hisself at ease with the doctrines114 of the Church, so to speak. I've seen a spasm115 of disgust cross his face when they talk of the sacraments, and atonement, and redemption, and suchlike. It's death among our people, Serafina Pekkala, to challenge the Church, but Lord Asriel's been nursing a rebellion in his heart for as long as I've served him, that's one thing I do know."
"A rebellion against the Church?"
"Partly, aye. There was a time when he thought of making it an issue of force, but he turned away from that."
"Why? Was the Church too strong?"
"No," said the old
收听单词发音
1
atmospheric
adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的
2
disturbances
n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍
3
tingle
vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动
4
chasms
裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别
5
misty
adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的
6
darted
v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔
7
clan
n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派
8
allied
adj.协约国的；同盟国的
9
glided
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔
10
muffled
adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己）
11
navigate
v.航行，飞行；导航，领航
12
spoke
n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说
13
brutal
adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的
14
shuddering
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动
15
abruptly
adv.突然地，出其不意地
16
foghorn
n..雾号（浓雾信号）
17
density
n.密集，密度，浓度
18
swell
vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强
19
helping
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的
20
hazy
adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的
21
hovered
鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫
22
hood
n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖
23
hooded
adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的
24
anonymous
adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的
25
malevolence
n.恶意，狠毒
26
passionate
adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的
27
cursory
adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的
28
concealed
a.隐藏的，隐蔽的
29
funnel
n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集
30
condensation
n.压缩，浓缩；凝结的水珠
31
desperately
adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地
32
risky
adj.有风险的，冒险的
33
exhausted
adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的
34
modesty
n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素
35
intensity
n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度
36
solitary
adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士
37
deflect
v.(使)偏斜，(使)偏离，(使)转向
38
confide
v.向某人吐露秘密
39
bowels
n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处
40
descended
a.为...后裔的，出身于...的
41
illuminated
adj.被照明的；受启迪的
42
hull
n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳
43
cardinal
n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的
44
fully
adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地
45
laden
adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的
46
laboriously
adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地
47
eminence
n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家
48
marsh
n.沼泽，湿地
49
feat
n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的
50
deposing
v.罢免( depose的现在分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证
51
diligent
adj.勤勉的，勤奋的
52
standing
n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的
53
muskrat
n.麝香鼠
54
gnawed
咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物
55
awe
n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧
56
testimony
n.证词；见证，证明
57
flinch
v.畏缩，退缩
58
interrogate
vt.讯问，审问，盘问
59
spat
n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声
60
scrap
n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废
61
nervously
adv.神情激动地，不安地
62
quail
n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖
63
eyebrows
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 )
64
shimmering
v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 )
65
turmoil
n.骚乱，混乱，动乱
66
agitation
n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动
67
sobbing
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的
68
shriek
v./n.尖叫，叫喊
69
consul
n.领事；执政官
70
exclamation
n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词
71
impatience
n.不耐烦，急躁
72
groan
vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音
73
throng
n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集
74
doorway
n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径
75
anguish
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼
76
bent
n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的
77
dodge
v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计
78
whined
v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨
79
wraiths
n.幽灵( wraith的名词复数 )；（传说中人在将死或死后不久的）显形阴魂
80
perch
n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于
81
pollen
n.[植]花粉
82
vessel
n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管
83
registration
n.登记，注册，挂号
84
sipped
v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 )
85
rumors
n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷
86
rumor
n.谣言，谣传，传说
87
regiment
n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制
88
warriors
武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 )
89
clans
宗族( clan的名词复数 )； 氏族； 庞大的家族； 宗派
90
ardent
adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的
91
imprisoned
下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 )
92
gathering
n.集会，聚会，聚集
93
awakening
n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的
94
shafts
n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等）
95
brilliance
n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智
96
herds
兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众
97
gallop
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展
98
disintegrated
v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 )
99
honking
v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 )
100
chaos
n.混乱，无秩序
101
swirl
v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形
102
malevolent
adj.有恶意的，恶毒的
103
resounding
adj. 响亮的
104
snarling
v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说
105
filthy
adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的
106
melee
n.混战；混战的人群
107
shrieks
n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 )
108
dwindling
adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 )
109
trampled
踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯
110
warily
adv.留心地
111
brewed
调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡）
112
precisely
adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地
113
philosophical
adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的
114
doctrines
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明
115
spasm
n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作
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