It was dark, with an enfolding blackness that pressed on Lyra's eyes so heavily that she almost felt the weight of the thousands of tons of rock above them. The only light they had came from the luminous1 tail of the Lady Salmakia's dragonfly, and even that was fading; for the poor insects had found no food in the world of the dead, and the Chevalier's had died not long before.
So while Tialys sat on Will's shoulder, Lyra held the Lady's dragonfly in her hands as the Lady soothed2 it and whispered to the trembling creature, feeding it first on crumbs3 of biscuit and then on her own blood. If Lyra had seen her do that, she would have offered hers, since there was more of it; but it was all she could do to concentrate on placing her feet safely and avoiding the lowest parts of the rock above.
No-Name the harpy had led them into a system of caves that would bring them, she said, to the nearest point in the world of the dead from which they could open a window to another world. Behind them came the endless column of ghosts. The tunnel was full of whispers, as the foremost encouraged those behind, as the brave urged on the fainthearted, as the old gave hope to the young.
"Is it much farther, No-Name?" said Lyra quietly. "Because this poor dragonfly's dying, and then his light'll go out."
The harpy stopped and turned to say:
"Just follow. If you can't see, listen. If you can't hear, feel."
Her eyes shone fierce in the gloom. Lyra nodded and said, "Yes, I will, but I'm not as strong as I used to be, and I'm not brave, not very anyway. Please don't stop. I'll follow you, we all will. Please keep going, No-Name."
The harpy turned back and moved on. The dragonfly shine was getting dimmer by the minute, and Lyra knew it would soon be completely gone.
But as she stumbled forward, a voice spoke5 just beside her, a familiar voice.
"Lyra, Lyra, child..."
And she turned in delight.
"Mr. Scoresby! Oh, I'm so glad to hear you! And it is you, I can see, just, oh, I wish I could touch you!"
In the faint, faint light she made out the lean form and the sardonic6 smile of the Texan aeronaut, and her hand reached forward of its own accord, in vain.
"Me too, honey. But listen to me, they're working some trouble out there, and it's aimed at you, don't ask me how. Is this the boy with the knife?"
Will had been looking at him, eager to see this old companion of Lyra's; but now his eyes went right past Lee to look at the ghost beside him. Lyra saw at once who it was, and marveled at this grown-up vision of Will, the same jutting7 jaw8, the same way of holding his head.
Will was speechless, but his father said:
"Listen, there's no time to talk about this, just do exactly as I say. Take the knife now and find a place where a lock has been cut from Lyra's hair."
His tone was urgent, and Will didn't waste time asking why. Lyra, her eyes wide with alarm, held up the dragonfly with one hand and felt her hair with the other.
"No," said Will, "take your hand away, I can't see."
And in the faint gleam, he could see it: just above her left temple, there was a little patch of hair that was shorter than the rest.
"Who did that?" said Lyra. "And...”
"Hush," said Will, and asked his father's ghost, "What must I do?”
"Cut the short hair off right down to her scalp. Collect it carefully, every single hair. Don't miss even one. Then open another world, any will do, and put the hair through into it, and then close it again. Do it now, at once."
The harpy was watching, the ghosts behind were crowding close. Lyra could see their faint faces in the dimness. Frightened and bewildered, she stood biting her lip while Will did as his father told him, his face close up to the knifepoint in the paling dragonfly light. He cut a little hollow space in the rock of another world, put all the tiny golden hairs into it, and replaced the rock before closing the window.
And then the ground began to shake. From somewhere very deep came a growling9, grinding noise, as if the whole center of the earth were turning on itself like a vast millwheel, and little fragments of stone began to fall from the roof of the tunnel. The ground lurched suddenly to one side. Will seized Lyra's arm, and they clung together as the rock under their feet began to shift and slide, and loose pieces of stone came tumbling past, bruising10 their legs and feet...
The two children, sheltering the Gallivespians, crouched11 down with their arms over their heads; and then in a horrible sliding movement they found themselves being borne away down to the left, and they held each other fiercely, too breathless and shaken even to cry out. Their ears were filled with the roar of thousands of tons of rock tumbling and rolling down with them.
Finally their movement stopped, though all around them smaller rocks were still tumbling and bounding down a slope that hadn't been there a minute before. Lyra was lying on Will's left arm. With his right hand he felt for the knife; it was still there at his belt.
"Tialys? Salmakia?" said Will shakily.
"Both here, both alive," said the Chevalier's voice near his ear.
The air was full of dust, and of the cordite smell of smashed rock. It was hard to breathe, and impossible to see: the dragonfly was dead.
"Mr. Scoresby?" said Lyra. "We can't see anything... What happened?"
"I'm here," said Lee, close by. "I guess the bomb went off, and I guess it missed."
"Bomb?" said Lyra, frightened; but then she said, "Roger, are you there?"
"Yeah," came the little whisper. "Mr. Parry, he saved me. I was going to fall, and he caught hold."
"Look," said the ghost of John Parry. "But hold still to the rock, and don't move."
The dust was clearing, and from somewhere there was light: a strange faint golden glimmer12, like a luminous misty13 rain falling all around them. It was enough to strike their hearts ablaze14 with fear, for it lit up what lay to their left, the place into which it was all falling, or flowing, like a river over the edge of a waterfall.
It was a vast black emptiness, like a shaft15 into the deepest darkness. The golden light flowed into it and died. They could see the other side, but it was much farther away than Will could have thrown a stone. To their right, a slope of rough stones, loose and precariously16 balanced, rose high into the dusty gloom.
The children and their companions were clinging to what was not even a ledge17, just some lucky hand- and footholds, on the edge of that abyss, and there was no way out except forward, along the slope, among the shattered rocks and the teetering boulders18, which, it seemed, the slightest touch would send hurtling down below.
And behind them, as the dust cleared, more and more of the ghosts were gazing in horror at the abyss. They were crouching19 on the slope, too frightened to move. Only the harpies were unafraid; they took to their wings and soared above, scanning backward and forward, flying back to reassure20 those still in the tunnel, flying ahead to search for the way out.
Lyra checked: at least the alethiometer was safe. Suppressing her fear, she looked around, found Roger's little face, and said:
"Come on, then, we're all still here, we en't been hurt. And we can see now, at least. So just keep going, just keep on moving. We can't go any other way than round the edge of this..." She gestured at the abyss. "So we just got to keep going ahead. I swear Will and me'll just keep on till we do. So don't be scared, don't give up, don't lag behind. Tell the others. I can't look back all the time because I got to watch where I'm going, so I got to trust you to come on steady after us, all right?"
The little ghost nodded. And so, in a shocked silence, the column of the dead began their journey along the edge of the abyss. How long it took, neither Lyra nor Will could guess; how fearful and dangerous it was, they were never able to forget. The darkness below was so profound that it seemed to pull the eyesight down into it, and a ghastly dizziness swam over their minds when they looked. Whenever they could, they looked ahead of them fixedly21, on this rock, that foothold, this projection22, that loose slope of gravel23, and kept their eyes from the gulf24; but it pulled, it tempted25, and they couldn't help glancing into it, only to feel their balance tilting26 and their eyesight swimming and a dreadful nausea27 gripping their throats.
From time to time the living ones looked back and saw the infinite line of the dead winding28 out of the crack they'd come through: mothers pressing their infants' faces to their breasts, aged4 fathers clambering slowly, little children clutching the skirts of the person in front, young boys and girls of Roger's age keeping staunch and careful, so many of them... And all following Will and Lyra, so they still hoped, toward the open air.
But some didn't trust them. They crowded close behind, and both children felt cold hands on their hearts and their entrails, and they heard vicious whispers:
"Where is the upper world? How much farther?"
"We're frightened here!"
"We should never have come, at least back in the world of the dead we had a little light and a little company, this is far worse!"
"You did a wrong thing when you came to our land! You should have stayed in your own world and waited to die before you came down to disturb us!"
"By what right are you leading us? You are only children! Who gave you the authority?"
Will wanted to turn and denounce them, but Lyra held his arm; they were unhappy and frightened, she said.
Then the Lady Salmakia spoke, and her clear, calm voice carried a long way in the great emptiness.
"Friends, be brave! Stay together and keep going! The way is hard, but Lyra can find it. Be patient and cheerful and we'll lead you out, don't fear!"
Lyra felt herself strengthened by hearing this, and that was really the Lady's intention. And so they toiled29 on, with painful effort.
"Will," said Lyra after some minutes, "can you hear that wind?"
"Yes, I can," said Will. "But I can't feel it at all. And I tell you something about that hole down there. It's the same kind of thing as when I cut a window. The same kind of edge. There's something special about that kind of edge; once you've felt it you never forget it. And I can see it there, just where the rock falls away into the dark. But that big space down there, that's not another world like all the others. It's different. I don't like it. I wish I could close it up."
"You haven't closed every window you've made."
"No, because I couldn't, some of them. But I know I should. Things go wrong if they're left open. And one that big..." He gestured downward, not wanting to look. "It's wrong. Something bad will happen."
While they were talking together, another conversation had been taking place a little way off: the Chevalier Tialys was talking quietly with the ghosts of Lee Scoresby and John Parry.
"So what are you saying, John?" said Lee. "You're saying we ought not to go out into the open air? Man, every single part of me is aching to join the rest of the living universe again!"
"Yes, and so am I," said Will's father. "But I believe that if those of us who are used to fighting could manage to hold ourselves back, we might be able to throw ourselves into the battle on Asriel's side. And if it came at the right moment, it might make all the difference."
"Ghosts?" said Tialys, trying to hold the skepticism from his voice, and failing. "How could you fight?"
"We couldn't hurt living creatures, that's quite true. But Asriel's army is going to contend with other kinds of being as well."
"Those Specters," said Lee.
"Just what I was thinking. They make for the daemon, don't they? And our daemons are long gone. It's worth a try, Lee."
"Well, I'm with you, my friend."
"And you, sir," said John Parry's ghost to the Chevalier: "I have spoken to the ghosts of your people. Will you live long enough to see the world again, before you die and come back as a ghost?"
"It's true, our lives are short compared to yours. I have a few days more to live," said Tialys, "and the Lady Salmakia a little longer, perhaps. But thanks to what those children are doing, our exile as ghosts will not be permanent. I have been proud to help them."
They moved on. And that abominable31 fall yawned all the time, and one little slip, one footstep on a loose rock, one careless handhold, would send you down forever and ever, thought Lyra, so far down you'd die of starvation before you ever hit the bottom, and then your poor ghost would go on falling and falling into an infinite gulf, with no one to help, no hands to reach down and lift you out, forever conscious and forever falling...
Oh, that would be far worse than the gray, silent world they were leaving, wouldn't it?
A strange thing happened to her mind then. The thought of falling induced a kind of vertigo32 in Lyra, and she swayed. Will was ahead of her, just too far to reach, or she might have taken his hand; but at that moment she was more conscious of Roger, and a little flicker33 of vanity blazed up for a moment in her heart. There'd been an occasion once on Jordan College roof when just to frighten him, she'd defied her vertigo and walked along the edge of the stone gutter34.
She looked back to remind him of it now. She was Roger's Lyra, full of grace and daring; she didn't need to creep along like an insect.
But the little boy's whispering voice said, "Lyra, be careful, remember, you en't dead like us...”
And it seemed to happen so slowly, but there was nothing she could do: her weight shifted, the stones moved under her feet, and helplessly she began to slide. In the first moment it was annoying, and then it was comic: How silly! she thought. But as she utterly35 failed to hold on to anything, as the stones rolled and tumbled beneath her, as she slid down toward the edge, gathering36 speed, the horror of it slammed into her. She was going to fall. There was nothing to stop her. It was already too late.
Her body convulsed with terror. She wasn't aware of the ghosts who flung themselves down to try and catch her, only to find her hurtling through them like a stone through mist; she didn't know that Will was yelling her name so loudly that the abyss resounded37 with it. Instead, her whole being was a vortex of roaring fear. Faster and faster she tumbled, down and down, and some ghosts couldn't bear to watch; they hid their eyes and cried aloud.
Will felt electric with fear. He watched in anguish38 as Lyra slid farther and farther, knowing he could do nothing, and knowing he had to watch. He couldn't hear the desperate wail39 he was uttering any more than she could. Another two seconds, another second, she was at the edge, she couldn't stop, she was there, she was falling...
And out of the dark swooped40 that creature whose claws had raked her scalp not long before, No-Name the harpy, woman-faced, bird-winged, and those same claws closed tight around the girl's wrist. Together they plunged41 on down, the extra weight almost too much for the harpy's strong wings, but they beat and beat and beat, and her claws held firm, and slowly, heavily, slowly, heavily, the harpy carried the child up and up out of the gulf and brought her limp and fainting to Will's reaching arms.
He held her tight, pressing her to his chest, feeling the wild beat of her heart against his ribs42. She wasn't Lyra just then, and he wasn't Will; she wasn't a girl, and he wasn't a boy. They were the only two human beings in that vast gulf of death. They clung together, and the ghosts clustered around, whispering comfort, blessing43 the harpy. Closest at hand were Will's father and Lee Scoresby, and how they longed to hold her, too; and Tialys and Salmakia spoke to No-Name, praising her, calling her the savior of them all, generous one, blessing her kindness.
As soon as Lyra could move, she reached out trembling for the harpy and put her arms around her neck, kissing and kissing her ravaged44 face. She couldn't speak. All the words, all the confidence, all the vanity had been shaken out of her.
They lay still for some minutes. Once the terror had begun to subside45, they set off again, Will holding Lyra's hand tightly in his good one. They crept forward, testing each spot before they put any weight on it, a process so slow and wearisome that they thought they might die of fatigue46; but they couldn't rest, they couldn't stop. How could anyone rest, with that fearful gulf below them?
And after another hour of toil30, he said to her:
"Look ahead. I think there's a way out..."
It was true: the slope was getting easier, and it was even possible to climb slightly, up and away from the edge. And ahead: wasn't that a fold in the wall of the cliff? Could that really be a way out?
Lyra looked into Will's brilliant, strong eyes and smiled.
They clambered on, up and farther up, with every step moving farther from the abyss. And as they climbed, they found the ground firmer, the handholds more secure, the footholds less liable to roll and twist their ankles.
"We must have climbed a fair way now," Will said. "I could try the knife and see what I find."
"Not yet," said the harpy. "Farther to go yet. This is a bad place to open. Better place higher up."
They carried on quietly, hand, foot, weight, move, test, hand, foot...Their fingers were raw, their knees and hips47 were trembling with the effort, their heads ached and rang with exhaustion48. They climbed the last few feet up to the foot of the cliff, where a narrow defile49 led a little way into the shadow.
Lyra watched with aching eyes as Will took the knife and began to search the air, touching50, withdrawing, searching, touching again.
"Ah," he said.
"You found an open space?"
"I think so..."
"Will," said his father's ghost, "stop a moment. Listen to me."
Will put down the knife and turned. In all the effort he hadn't been able to think of his father, but it was good to know he was there. Suddenly he realized that they were going to part for the last time.
"What will happen when you go outside?" Will said. "Will you just vanish?"
"Not yet. Mr. Scoresby and I have an idea. Some of us will remain here for a little while, and we shall need you to let us into Lord Asriel's world, because he might need our help. What's more," he went on somberly, looking at Lyra, "you'll need to travel there yourselves, if you want to find your daemons again. Because that's where they've gone."
"But Mr. Parry," said Lyra, "how do you know our daemons have gone into my father's world?"
"I was a shaman when I was alive. I learned how to see things. Ask your alethiometer, it'll confirm what I say. But remember this about daemons," he said, and his voice was intense and emphatic51. "The man you knew as Sir Charles Latrom had to return to his own world periodically; he could not live permanently52 in mine. The philosophers of the Guild53 of the Torre degli Angeli, who traveled between worlds for three hundred years or more, found the same thing to he true, and gradually their world weakened and decayed as a result.
"And then there is what happened to me. I was a soldier; I was an officer in the Marines, and then I earned my living as an explorer; I was as fit and healthy as it's possible for a human to be. Then I walked out of my own world by accident, and couldn't find the way back. I did many things and learned a great deal in the world I found myself in, but ten years after I arrived there, I was mortally sick.
"And this is the reason for all those things: your daemon can only live its full life in the world it was born in. Elsewhere it will eventually sicken and die. We can travel, if there are openings into other worlds, but we can only live in our own. Lord Asriel's great enterprise will fail in the end for the same reason: we have to build the Republic of Heaven where we are, because for us there is no elsewhere.
"Will, my boy, you and Lyra can go out now for a brief rest; you need that, and you deserve it; but then you must come back into the dark with me and Mr. Scoresby for one last journey."
Will and Lyra exchanged a look. Then he cut a window, and it was the sweetest thing they had ever seen.
The night air filled their lungs, fresh and clean and cool; their eyes took in a canopy54 of dazzling stars, and the shine of water somewhere below, and here and there groves55 of great trees, as high as castles, dotting the wide savanna56.
Will enlarged the window as wide as he could, moving across the grass to left and right, making it big enough for six, seven, eight to walk through abreast57, out of the land of the dead.
The first ghosts trembled with hope, and their excitement passed back like a ripple58 over the long line behind them, young children and aged parents alike looking up and ahead with delight and wonder as the first stars they had seen for centuries shone through into their poor starved eyes.
The first ghost to leave the world of the dead was Roger. He took a step forward, and turned to look back at Lyra, and laughed in surprise as he found himself turning into the night, the starlight, the air... and then he was gone, leaving behind such a vivid little burst of happiness that Will was reminded of the bubbles in a glass of champagne59.
The other ghosts followed Roger, and Will and Lyra fell exhausted60 on the dew-laden grass, every nerve in their bodies blessing the sweetness of the good soil, the night air, the stars.
收听单词发音 |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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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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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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bruising
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| adj.殊死的；十分激烈的v.擦伤(bruise的现在分词形式) | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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precariously
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| adv.不安全地；危险地；碰机会地；不稳定地 | |
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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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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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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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tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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vertigo
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| n.眩晕 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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43
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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48
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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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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50
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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51
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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guild
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| n.行会，同业公会，协会 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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savanna
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| n.大草原 | |
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57
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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58
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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60
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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