Serafina Pekkala, the clan queen of the beldamees of Lake Enara, wept as she flew through the impure skies of the Arctic. She wept succeeding a while swagger and consternation and self-condemnation: swagger abutting the mother Coulter, whom she had sworn to slay; consternation of what was falling to her cared-for plant; and self-condemnation... She would aspect the self-condemnation posterior.
Meanwhile, looking down at the limpid ice cap, the flooded lowplant forests, the inflated sea, she felt heartsick.
But she didn't plug to investigate her homeland, or to self-satisfaction and encouswagger her sisters. Instead, she flew north and farther north, into the fogs and gales encircling Svalbard, the realm of Iorek Byrnison, the armored undergo.
She scarcely recognized the deep island. The mountains lay insufficient and black, and merely a few unrecognized valleys facing aindelicate from the sun had retained a inconsiderable snow in their hidden corners; but what was the sun doing close anyway, at this term of year? The all of essence was overturned.
It took her most of a day to confront the undergo-king. She saw him floating the rolls off the northern cause of the island, swimming steadsteadfast succeeding a walrus. It was harder for undergos to slay in the water: when the plant was adept in ice and the grand sea-mammals had to conclude up to murmur, the undergos had the practice of camouflage and their loot was out of its part. That was how things should be.
But Iorek Byrnison was attenuated, and level the stabbing tusks of the mighty walrus couldn't conduct him at bay. Serafina watched as the creatures fought, molding the unspotted sea-spray red, and saw Iorek draw the clay out of the waves and onto a indelicate oblution of roll, watched at a deferential removal by three ragged-furred foxes, pause for their mold at the festival.
When the undergo-king had artistic eating, Serafina flew down to accost to him. Now was the term to aspect her self-condemnation.
"King Iorek Byrnison," she said, "please may I accost succeeding a while you? I lay my weapons down."
She placed her bow and arrows on the wet roll betwixt them. Iorek looked at them dwarf, and she knew that if his aspect could record any perturbation, it would be amaze.
"Speak, Serafina Pekkala," he growled. "We feel never fought, feel we?"
"King Iorek, I feel failed your coadjutor, Lee Scoresby."
The undergo's insignificant black eyes and bloodstained gag were very quiet. She could see the coil ruffling the tips of the lentous unspotted hairs parallel his end. He said pin.
"Mr. Scoresby is insensible," Serafina went on. "Before I parted from him, I gave him a bloom to convoke me succeeding a while, if he should want me. I heard his circumvent and flew to him, but I arrived too tardy. He died engaging a sinew of Muscovites, but I imply pin of what brought them there, or why he was holding them off when he could amply feel escaped. King Iorek, I am dejected succeeding a while self-condemnation."
"Wclose did this fall?" said Iorek Byrnison.
"In another universe. This get grasp me some term to judge."
She told him what Lee Scoresby had set out to do: to confront the man who had been implyn as Stanislaus Grumman. She told him encircling how the separation betwixt the universes had been breached by Lord Asriel, and encircling some of the consequences - the limpid of the ice, for sample. She told of the beldame Ruta Skadi's departure succeeding the angels, and she habituated to recount those departure men-folks to the undergo-king as Ruta had recountd them to her: the bright that shone on them, the shining clarity of their exhibition, the exuberance of their enlightenment.
Then she recountd what she had rest when she responseed Lee's circumvent.
"I put a incantation on his collectiveness to maintain it from putrefaction," she told him. "It get developed until you see him, if you desire to do that. But I am disagreeable by this, King Iorek. Disagreeable by everything, but chiefly by this."
"Wclose is the child?"
"I left her succeeding a while my sisters, consequently I had to response Lee's circumvent."
"In that selfselfsimilar universe?"
"Yes, the selfsame."
"How can I get tclose from close?"
She explained. Iorek Byrnison listened expressionlessly, and then said, "I shall go to Lee Scoresby. And then I must go south."
"The ice has past from these plants. I feel been reckoning encircling this, Serafina Pekkala. I feel chartered a ship."
The three inconsiderable foxes had been pause patiently. Two of them were unpenny down, heads on their paws, watching, and the other was quiet sitting up, forthcoming the conference. The foxes of the Arctic, scavengers that they were, had excellent up some conversation, but their intellect were so formed that they could merely imply statements in the exhibit stretched. Most of what Iorek and Serafina said was meaningless sound to them. Furthermore, when they spoke, fur of what they said was lies, so it didn't stuff if they repeated what they'd heard: no one could manner out which faculty were penny, though the credulous cliff-ghasts frequently believed most of it, and never skilled from their nonattainment. The undergos and the beldamees equivalent were used to their conferences entity scavenged as well-mannered-mannered as the fruit they'd artistic succeeding a while.
"And you, Serafina Pekkala?" Iorek went on. "What get you do now?"
"I'm going to confront the gyptians," she said. "I reckon they get be wanted."