At that moment the Gallivespians, too, were talking about the knife. Having made a suspicious peace with Iorek Byrnison, they climbed back to their ledge1 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."
"He is too alert. He watches everywhere for us," said Salmakia. "The girl is more trusting. I think we could win her around. She's innocent, and she loves easily. We could work on her. I think we should do that, Tialys."
"But he has the knife. He is the one who can use it."
"He won't go anywhere without her."
"But she has to follow him, if he has the knife. And I think that as soon as the knife's intact again, they'll 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 it's very different from what we want them to do."
"We'll see. But you're right, Tialys, I think. We must stay close to the boy at all costs."
They both watched with some skepticism as Iorek Byrnison laid out the tools in his improvised2 workshop. The mighty3 workers in the ordnance4 factories under Lord Asriel's fortress5, with their blast furnaces and rolling mills, their anbaric forges and hydraulic6 presses, would have laughed at the open fire, the stone hammer, the anvil7 consisting of a piece of Iorek's 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 muffled8 their scorn.
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.
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.
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.
Lyra set about searching, and with owl-eyed Pantalaimon's 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.
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 he'd do it properly.
Furthermore, he mustn't 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 overlap9 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 charred10. But the blade would be just as sharp, and it would work.
So Will watched as the flames roared along the resinous11 twigs12, and with streaming eyes and scorched13 hands he adjusted each fresh branch till the heat was focused as Iorek wanted it.
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 nostrils14 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.
Eventually the hammer was formed to Iorek's 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 wafting15 the stone-gas over them. The bear watched, his long white face lurid16 in the glare, and Will saw the surface of the metal begin to glow red and then yellow and then white.
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 glistening17, and sparks just like those from a firework sprayed up from it.
Then Iorek moved. His right paw darted18 in and seized first one piece and then the other, holding them between the tips of his massive claws and placing them on the slab19 of iron that was the backplate of his 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 overlapped20 and then raised his left paw high and struck a blow with the rock hammer.
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 flicker21 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 Iorek's artistry had constructed the best furnace there could be.
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!"
Will felt his whole being quiver under the blows of the stone hammer in the bear's fist. The second piece of the blade was heating, too, and Lyra's 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.
"The edge!" roared Iorek. "Hold the edge in line!"
He meant with your mind, and Will did it instantly, sensing the minute snags and then the minute easement as the edges lined up perfectly22. Then that join was made, and Iorek turned to the next piece.
"A new stone," he called to Lyra, who knocked the first one aside and placed a second on the spot to heat.
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 complexity23 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 accurately24 could he help Iorek mend it.
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 fatigue25; 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.
When it came to the final join, Will's head was ringing, and he was so exhausted26 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 affix27 the nearly finished blade onto the small part remaining at the handle, if he couldn't hold it in his full consciousness together with all the others, then the knife would simply fall apart as if Iorek had never begun.
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 brilliance28. Nevertheless, he understood: this was work, and it was hard, but they were equal to it, all of them.
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 braced29 himself for the last and fiercest part of the task.
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 exhaustion30 possess him. Lyra nearby was in the same state, her eyes glassy and red-rimmed, her hair full of soot31 and smoke; and Iorek himself stood heavy-headed, his fur singed32 in several places, dark streaks33 of ash marking its rich cream-white.
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.
But Will didn't 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:
"Come outside."
Then he said to Lyra: "Stay here, and don't touch the knife."
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.
Will followed the great bear out onto the dark mountainside. The cold was bitter and instantaneous, after the inferno34 in the cave.
"They should not have made that knife," said Iorek, after they had walked a little way. "Maybe I should not have mended it. I'm 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, something's wrong, something's bad. And I've made it worse."
"But when the first bear made the first piece of armor, wasn't that bad, too, in the same way?"
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.
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:
"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.
"But I think I have stepped outside bear nature in mending this knife. I think I've 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?"
Will rubbed his aching head with both hands.
"The woman looked at me and I thought she had the face of my mother," he said, trying to recollect35 the experience with all the honesty he had. "And the knife came up against something it couldn't cut, and because my mind was pushing it through and forcing it back both at the same time, it snapped. That's what I think. The woman knew what she was doing, I'm sure. She's very clever."
"When you talk of the knife, you talk of your mother and father."
"Do I? Yes... I suppose I do."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I don't know."
Suddenly Iorek lunged at Will and cuffed36 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.
Iorek came down slowly to where Will was struggling up, and said, "Answer me truthfully."
Will was tempted37 to say, "You wouldn't have done that if I'd had the knife in my hand." But he knew that Iorek knew that, and knew that he knew it, and that it would be discourteous38 and stupid to say it; but he was tempted, all the same.
He held his tongue until he was standing39 upright, facing Iorek directly.
"I said I don't know," he said, trying hard to keep his voice calm, "because I haven't looked clearly at what it is that I'm 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."
"And what was that?"
"We want to go down to the land of the dead and talk to the ghost of Lyra's friend Roger, the one who 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.
"But I'm divided, I'm 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..."
"He fled," said the bear.
"He wasn't a warrior40. He did as much as he could, and then he couldn't do any more. He wasn't the only one to be afraid; I'm afraid, too. So I have to think it through. Maybe sometimes we don't do the right thing because the wrong thing looks more dangerous, and we don't want to look scared, so we go and do the wrong thing just because it's dangerous. We're more concerned with not looking scared than with judging right. It's very hard. That's why I didn't answer you."
"I see," said the bear.
They stood in silence for what felt like a long time, especially to Will, who had little protection from the bitter cold. But Iorek hadn't finished yet, and Will was still weak and dizzy from the blow, and didn't 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 helping41 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.
"And I shall tell you one thing. You know it already, but you don't want to, which is why I tell you openly, so that you don't 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.
"Now I'm 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."
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.
He walked with Iorek up the slope toward the cave, where the fire glow still shone warmly in the vast surrounding dark.
There Iorek carried out the last process in the mending of the subtle knife. He laid it among the brighter cinders42 until the blade was glowing, and Will and Lyra saw a hundred colors swirling43 in the smoky depths of the metal, and when he judged the moment was right, Iorek told Will to take it and plunge44 it directly into the snow that had drifted outside.
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 hiss45 and flare46 of steam, he felt the atoms finally settle together, and he knew that the knife was as keen as before, the point as infinitely47 rare.
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.
When it was cool enough, he packed it away in the rucksack and sat, ignoring the spies, to wait for Lyra to come back.
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 bent48 his head over her and nuzzled at her scorched and smoky hands. Without a word he began to lick them clean; his tongue was soothing49 on the burns, and she felt as safe as she had ever felt in her life.
But when her hands were free of soot and dirt, Iorek spoke50. She felt his voice vibrate against her back.
"Lyra Silvertongue, what is this plan to visit the dead?"
"It came to me in a dream, Iorek. I saw Roger's ghost, and I knew he was calling to me... You remember 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, that's 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."
"Can is not the same as must."
"But if you must and you can, then there's no excuse."
"While you are alive, your business is with life."
"No, Iorek," she said gently, "our business is to keep promises, no matter how difficult they are. You know, secretly, I'm deadly scared. And I wish I'd never had that dream, and I wish Will hadn't thought of using the knife to go there. But we did, so we can't get out of it."
Lyra felt Pantalaimon trembling and stroked him with her sore hands.
"We don't know how to get there, though," she went on. "We won't know anything till we try. What are you going to do, Iorek?"
"I'm going back north, with my people. We can't 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.
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."
Lyra sat up, excited at hearing the names of her old friends. But Iorek hadn't finished. He went on:
"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?"
"No," said Lyra, "except that it was by a river."
"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 worthy51 of each other. Go well, Lyra Silvertongue, my dear friend."
She reached up and put her arms around his neck, and pressed her face into his fur, unable to speak.
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.
When Will heard her footsteps on the path, he looked at the spies and said, "Don't you move. Look, here's the knife, I'm not going to use it. Stay here."
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 remains52 of the fire, and that, in turn, was reflected from her wet cheeks, and her tears found their own reflection in Will's eyes, and so those photons wove the two children together in a silent web.
"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 can't rely on anyone else now, can we... It's just us. But we en't old enough yet. We're only young... We're too young... If poor Mr. Scoresby's dead and Iorek's old... It's all coming onto us, what's got to be done."
"We can do it," he said. "I'm not going to look back anymore. We can do it. But we've got to sleep now, and if we stay in this world, those gyropter things might come, the ones the spies sent for... I'm going to cut through now and we'll find another world to sleep in, and if the spies come with us, that's too bad; we'll have to get rid of them another time."
"Yes," she said, and sniffed53 and wiped the back of her hand across her nose and rubbed her eyes with both palms. "Let's do that. You sure the knife will work? You tested it?"
"I know it'll work."
With Pantalaimon tiger-formed to deter54 the spies, they hoped, Will and Lyra went back and picked up their rucksacks.
"What are you doing?" said Salmakia.
"Going into another world," said Will, taking out the knife. It felt like being whole again; he hadn't realized how much he loved it.
"But you must wait for Lord Asriel's gyropters," said Tialys, his voice hard.
"We're not going to," said Will. "If you come near the knife, I'll kill you. Come through with us if you must, but you can't make us stay here. We're leaving."
"You lied!"
"No," said Lyra, "I lied. Will doesn't lie. You didn't think of that."
"But where are you going?"
Will didn't answer. He felt forward in the dim air and cut an opening.
Salmakia said, "This is a mistake. You should realize that, and listen to us. You haven't thought...”
"Yes, we have," said Will, "we've thought hard, and we'll tell you what we've thought tomorrow. You can come where we're going, or you can go back to Lord Asriel."
The window opened onto the world into which he had escaped with Baruch and Balthamos, and where he'd slept safely: the warm endless beach with the fernlike trees behind the dunes55. He said:
"Here, we'll sleep here, this'll do."
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.
收听单词发音 |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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ordnance
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| n.大炮，军械 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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hydraulic
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| adj.水力的；水压的，液压的；水力学的 | |
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anvil
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| n.铁钻 | |
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muffled
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| 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） | |
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overlap
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| v.重叠，与…交叠；n.重叠 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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resinous
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| adj.树脂的，树脂质的，树脂制的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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wafting
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的现在分词 ) | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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overlapped
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| _adj.重叠的v.部分重叠( overlap的过去式和过去分词 )；（物体）部份重叠；交叠；（时间上）部份重叠 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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affix
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| n.附件，附录 vt.附贴，盖(章)，签署 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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discourteous
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| adj.不恭的，不敬的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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40
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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41
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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42
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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43
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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44
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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46
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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48
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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49
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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50
spoke
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| 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 | |
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51
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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52
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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53
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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54
deter
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| vt.阻止，使不敢，吓住 | |
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55
dunes
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| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
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