The sky was blue overhead now, and the sunlight was bright. To the north the fog banks still hung like a mountain range over the sea, but the breeze was pushing them back and back, and Lee was impatient for the air again.
As the balloon filled and began to swell up beyond the edge of the warehouse roof, Lee checked the basket and stowed all his equipment with particular care; for in the other world, who knew what turbulence they'd meet? His instruments, too, he fixed to the framework with close attention, even the compass, whose needle was swinging around the dial quite uselessly. Finally he lashed a score of sandbags around the basket for ballast.
When the gasbag was full and leaning northward in the buffeting breeze, and the whole apparatus straining against the stout ropes anchoring it down, Lee paid the warehouseman with the last of his gold and helped Grumman into the basket. Then he turned to the men at the ropes to give the order to let go.
But before they could do so, there was an interruption. From the alley at the side of the warehouse came the noise of pounding boots, moving at the double, and a shout of command: «Halt!»
The men at the ropes paused, some looking that way, some looking to Lee, and he called sharply, «Let go! Cast off!»
Two of the men obeyed, and the balloon lurched up, but the other two had their attention on the soldiers, who were moving quickly around the corner of the building. Those two men still held their ropes fast around the bollards, and the balloon lurched sickeningly sideways. Lee grabbed at the suspension ring; Grumman was holding it too, and his daemon had her claws tight around it.
Lee shouted, «Let go, you damn fools! She's going up!»
The buoyancy of the gasbag was too great, and the men, haul as they might, couldn't hold it back. One let go, and his rope lashed itself loose from the bollard; but the other man, feeling the rope lift, instinctively clung on instead of letting go. Lee had seen this happen once before, and dreaded it. The poor man's daemon, a heavyset husky, howled with fear and pain from the ground as the balloon surged up toward the sky, and five endless seconds later it was over; the man's strength failed; he fell, half-dead, and crashed into the water.
But the soldiers had their rifles up already. A volley of bullets whistled past the basket, one striking a spark from the suspension ring and making Lee's hands sting with the impact, but none of them did any damage. By the time they fired their second shot, the balloon was almost out of range, hurtling up into the blue and speeding out over the sea. Lee felt his heart lift with it. He'd said once to Serafina Pekkala that he didn't care for flying, that it was only a job; but he hadn't meant it. Soaring upward, with a fair wind behind and a new world in front — what could be better in this life?
He let go of the suspension ring and saw that Hester was crouching in her usual corner, eyes half-closed. From far below and a long way back came another futile volley of rifle fire. The town was receding fast, and the broad sweep of the river's mouth was glittering in the sunlight below them.
«Well, Dr. Grumman,» he said, «I don't know about you, but I feel better hi the air. I wish that poor man had let go of the rope, though. It's so damned easy to do, and if you don't let go at once there's no hope for you.»
«Thank you, Mr. Scoresby,» said the shaman. «You managed that very well. Now we settle down and fly. I would be grateful for those furs; the air is still cold.»
Eleven
The Belvedere
In the great white villa in the park Will slept uneasily, plagued with dreams that were filled with anxiety and with sweetness in equal measure, so that he struggled to wake up and yet longed for sleep again. When his eyes were fully open, he felt so drowsy that he could scarcely move, and then he sat up to find his bandage loose and his bed crimson.
He struggled out of bed and made his way through the heavy, dust-filled sunlight and silence of the great house down to the kitchen. He and Lyra had slept in servants' rooms under the attic, not feeling welcomed by the stately four-poster beds in the grand rooms farther down, and it was a long unsteady walk.
«Will —» she said at once, her voice full of concern, and she turned from the stove to help him to a chair.
He felt dizzy. He supposed he'd lost a lot of blood; well, there was no need to suppose, with the evidence all over him. And the wounds were still bleeding.
«I was just making some coffee,» she said. «Do you want that first, or shall I do another bandage? I can do whichever you want. And there's eggs in the cold cabinet, but I can't find any baked beans.»
«This isn't a baked beans kind of house. Bandage first. Is there any hot water in the tap? I want to wash. I hate being covered in this…»
She ran some hot water, and he stripped to his underpants.
He was too faint and dizzy to feel embarrassed, but Lyra became embarrassed for Mm and went out. He washed as best he could and then dried himself on the tea towels that hung on a line by the stove.
When she came back, she'd found some clothes for him, just a shirt and canvas trousers and a belt. He put them on, and she tore a fresh tea towel into strips and bandaged him tightly again. She was badly worried about his hand; not only were the wounds bleeding freely still, but the rest of the hand was swollen and red. But he said nothing about it, and neither did she.
Then she made the coffee and toasted some stale bread, and they took it into the grand room at the front of the house, overlooking the city. When he'd eaten and drunk, he felt a little better.
«You better ask the alethiometer what to do next,» he said. «Have you asked it anything yet?»
«No,» she said. «I'm only going to do what you ask, from now on. I thought of doing it last night, but I never did. And I won't, either, unless you ask me to.»
«Well, you better do it now,» he said. «There's as much danger here as there is in my world, now. There's Angelica's brother for a start. And if —»
He stopped, because she began to say something, but she stopped as soon as he did. Then she collected herself and went on. «Will, there was something that happened yesterday that I didn't tell you. I should've, but there was just so many other things going on. I'm sorry …»
And she told him everything she'd seen through the window of the tower while Giacomo Paradisi was dressing Will's wound: Tullio being beset by the Specters, Angelica seeing her at the window and her look of hatred, and Paolo's threat.
«And d'you remember,» she went on, «when she first spoke to us? Her little brother said something about what they were all doing. He said, “He's gonna get —” and she wouldn't let him finish; she smacked him, remember? I bet he was going to say Tullio was after the knife, and that's why all the kids came here. 'Cause if they had the knife, they could do anything, they could even grow up without being afraid of Specters.»
«What did it look like, when he was attacked?» Will said. To her surprise he was sitting forward, his eyes demanding and urgent.
«He …» She tried to remember exactly. «He started counting the stones in the wall. He sort of felt all over them…. But he couldn't keep it up. In the end he sort of lost interest and stopped. Then he was just still,» she finished, and seeing Will's expression she said, «Why?»
«Because … I think maybe they come from my world after all, the Specters. If they make people behave like that, I wouldn't be surprised at all if they came from my world. And when the Guild men opened their first window, if it was into my world, the Specters could have gone through then.»
«But you don't have Specters in your world! You never heard of them, did you?»
«Maybe they're not called Specters. Maybe we call them something else.»
Lyra wasn't sure what he meant, but she didn't want to press him. His cheeks were red and his eyes were hot.