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o scared。 we might not ever get out。 suppose we get stuck here forever？〃
〃the knife can cut through rock。 if we need to； well just cut a tunnel。 itll take a long time； and i hope we wont have to； but we could。 dont worry。〃
〃yeah。 youre right。 course we could。〃
but she thought he looked so ill； with his face drawn in pain and with dark rings around his eyes； and his hand was shaking； and his fingers were bleeding again； he looked as sick as she felt。 they couldnt go on much longer without their daemons。 she felt her own ghost quail in her body； and hugged her arms tightly； aching for pan。
meanwhile； the ghosts were pressing close； poor things； and the children especially couldnt leave lyra alone。
〃please；〃 said one girl； 〃you wont forget us when you go back； will you？〃
〃no；〃 said lyra； 〃never。〃
〃youll tell them about us？〃
〃i promise。 whats your name？〃
but the poor girl was embarrassed and ashamed： shed forgotten。 she turned away； hiding her face； and a boy said：
〃its better to forget； i reckon。 ive forgotten mine。 some ent been here long； and they still know who they are。 theres some kids been here thousands of years。 theyre no older than us； and theyve forgotten a whole lot。 except the sunshine。 no one forgets that。 and the wind。〃
〃yeah；〃 said another； 〃tell us about that！〃
and more and more of them clamored for lyra to tell them about the things they remembered； the sun and the wind and the sky； and the things theyd forgotten； such as how to play； and she turned to will and whispered； 〃what should i do； will？〃
〃tell them。〃
〃im scared。 after what happened back there； the harpies。。。”
〃tell them the truth。 well keep the harpies off。〃
she looked at him doubtfully。 in fact； she felt sick with apprehension。 she turned back to the ghosts； who were thronging closer and closer。
〃please！〃 they were whispering。 〃youve just e from the world！ tell us； tell us！ tell us about the world！〃
there was a tree not far away； just a dead trunk with its bone white branches thrusting into the chilly gray air； and because lyra was feeling weak； and because she didnt think she could walk and talk at the same time； she made for that so as to have somewhere to sit。 the crowd of ghosts jostled and shuffled aside to make room。
when she and will were nearly at the tree； tialys landed on wills hand and indicated that he should bend his head to listen。
〃theyre ing back；〃 he said quietly； 〃those harpies。 more and more of them。 have your knife ready。 the lady and i will hold them off as long as we can； hut you might need to fight。〃
without worrying lyra； will loosened the knife in its sheath and kept his hand close to it。 tialys took off again； and then lyra reached the tree and sat down on one of the thick roots。
so many dead figures clustered around； pressing hopefully； wide…eyed； that will had to make them keep back and leave room； but he let roger stay close； because he was gazing at lyra； listening with a
passion。
and lyra began to talk about the world she knew。
she told them the story of how she and roger had climbed over jordan college roof and found the rook with the broken leg； and how they had looked after it until it was ready to fly again； and how they had explored the wine cellars； all thick with dust and cobwebs； and drunk some canary； or it might have been tokay； she couldnt tell； and how drunk they had been。 and rogers ghost listened； proud and desperate； nodding and whispering； 〃yes； yes！ thats just what happened； thats true all right！〃
then she told them all about the great battle between the oxford townies and the clayburners。
first she described the claybeds； making sure she got in everything she could remember； the wide ocher…colored washing pits； the dragline； the kilns like great brick beehives。 she told them about the willow trees along the rivers edge； with their leaves all silvery underneath； and she told how when the sun shone for more than a couple of days； the clay began to split up into great handsome plates； with deep cracks between； and how it felt to squish your fingers into the cracks and slowly lever up a dried plate of mud； trying to keep it as big as you could without breaking it。 underneath it was still wet； ideal for throwing at people。
and she described the smells around the place； the smoke from the kilns； the rotten…leaf…mold smell of the river when the wind was in the southwest； the warm smell of the baking potatoes the clayburners used to eat； and the sound of the water slipping slickly over the sluices and into the washing pits； and the slow； thick suck as you tried to pull your foot out of the ground； and the heavy； wet slap of the gate paddles in the clay…thick water。
as she spoke； playing on all their senses； the ghosts crowded closer； feeding on her words； remembering the time when they had flesh and skin and nerves and senses； and willing her never to stop。
then she told how the clayburners children always made war on the townies； but how they were slow and dull； with clay in their brains； and how the townies were as sharp and quick as sparrows by contrast； and how one day all the townies had swallowed their differences and plotted and planned and attacked the claybeds from three sides； pinning the clayburners children back against the river； hurling handfuls and handfuls of heavy； claggy clay at one another； rushing their muddy castle and tearing it down； turning the fortifications into missiles until the air and the ground and the water were all mixed inextricably together； and every child looked exactly the same； mud from scalp to sole； and none of them had had a better day in all their lives。
when shed finished； she looked at will； exhausted。 then she had a shock。
as well as the ghosts； silent all around； and her panions； close and living； there was another audience； too： the branches of the tree were clustered with those dark bird forms； their womens faces gazing down at her； solemn and spellbound。
she stood up in sudden fear； but they didnt move。
〃you；〃 she said； desperate； 〃you flew at me before； when i tried to tell you something。 whats stopping you now？ go on； tear at me with your claws and make a ghos