THE AMBER SPYGLASS 精彩片段：
TWENTY-NINE - THE BATTLE ON THE PLAIN
It was desperately hard for Lyra and Will to leave that sweet world where they had slept the night before, but if they were ever going to find their daemons, they knew they had to go into the dark once more. And now, after hours of weary crawling through the dim tunnel, Lyra bent over the alethiometer for the twentieth time, making little unconscious sounds of distress, whimpers and catches of breath that would have been sobs if they were any stronger. Will, too, felt the pain where his daemon had been, a scalded place of acute tenderness that every breath tore at with cold hooks.
How wearily Lyra turned the wheels; on what leaden feet her thoughts moved. The ladders of meaning that led from every one of the alethiometers thirty-six symbols, down which she used to move so lightly and confidently, felt loose and shaky. And holding the connections between them in her mind...It had once been like running, or singing, or telling a story: something natural. Now she had to do it laboriously, and her grip was failing, and she mustnt fail because otherwise everything would fail...
"Its not far," she said at last. "And theres all kinds of danger, theres a battle, theres.. .But were nearly in the right place now. Just at the end of this tunnel theres a big smooth rock running with water. You cut through there."
The ghosts who were going to fight pressed forward eagerly, and she felt Lee Scoresby close at her side.
He said, "Lyra, gal, it wont be long now. When you see that old bear, you tell him Lee went out fighting. And when the battles over, therell be all the time in the world to drift along the wind and find the atoms that used to be Hester, and my mother in the sagelands, and my sweethearts, all my sweethearts... Lyra, child, you rest when this is done, you hear? Life is good, and death is over..."
His voice faded. She wanted to put her arms around him, but of course that was impossible. So she just looked at his pale form instead, and the ghost saw the passion and brilliance in her eyes, and took strength from it.
And on Lyras shoulder, and on Wills, rode the two Gallivespians. Their short lives were nearly over; each of them felt a stiffness in their limbs, a coldness around the heart. They would both return soon to the world of the dead, this time as ghosts, but they caught each others eye, and vowed that they would stay with Will and Lyra for as long as they could, and not say a word about their dying.
Up and up the children clambered. They didnt speak. They heard each others harsh breathing, they heard their footfalls, they heard the little stones their steps dislodged. Ahead of them all the way, the harpy scrambled heavily, her wings dragging, her claws scratching, silent and grim.
Then came a new sound: a regular drip-drip, echoing in the tunnel. And then a faster dripping, a trickle, a running of water.
"Here!" said Lyra, reaching forward to touch a sheet of rock that blocked the way, smooth and wet and cold. "Here it is."
She turned to the harpy.
"I been thinking," she said, "how you saved me, and how you promised to guide all the other ghosts thatll come through the world of the dead to that land we slept in last night. And I thought, if you ent got a name, that cant be fight, not for the future. So I thought Id give you a name, like King Iorek Byrnison gave me my name Silvertongue. Im going to call you Gracious Wings. So thats your name now, and thats what youll be for evermore: Gracious Wings."
"One day," said the harpy, "I will see you again, Lyra Silvertongue."
"And if I know youre here, I shant be afraid," Lyra said. "Good-bye, Gracious Wings, till I die."