Lyra Thistledrift's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Lyra read the cluster again, faster now. The name was only half the message. The other symbols were a place — a old tree with a hollow door, set where the ridge bent. She stood up so quick her lamp shook. "It's a map," she told Luna. "And the prints will fade by sun." They ran. Outside the temple, a trail of pale blue feathers lay across the snow, faintly glowing, each one set like a step. Some had already begun to dim at the edges. Lyra followed them at a hard pace, her breath sharp. The path bent exactly where the symbols had said it would. At the ridge stood a wide tree with a dark hollow at its base. Tufts of soft blue fur clung to the bark. Small wing-feathers, downy and bright, were caught in the roots. Pups had been here. Lyra knelt at the hollow's mouth, hands shaking. The fur was still warm. "We found it," she breathed. Luna touched her shoulder. The last feather on the path winked out behind them. Lyra had beaten the trail. But the hollow was empty, and whatever had taken the missing wolf had taken the pups too.