Nagging and cajoling, she urged him doweps, and they picked their way through the shattered glass and splintered wood and into a small, cool room off the landing. The walls were lined with shelves of bottles, jars, pots, pestles and mortars, and chemists balances. Uhe dirty window was a stone sink, where the old man something with a shaky hand from a large bottle into a smaller one.
"Sit down and drink this," he said, and filled a small glass with a dark golden liquid.
Will sat down and took the glass. The first mouthful hit the back of his throat like fire. Lyra took the glass to stop it from falling as Will gasped.
"Drink it all," the old man anded.
"What is it?"
"Plum brandy. Drink."
Will sipped it more cautiously. Now his hand was really beginning to hurt.
" you heal him?" said Lyra, her voice desperate.
"Oh, yes, we have medies for everything. You, girl, open that drawer iable and bring out a bandage."
Will saw the knife lying oable in the ter of the room, but before he could pick it up the old man was limping toward him with a bowl of water.
"Drink again," the old man said.
Will held the glass tightly and closed his eyes while the old man did something to his hand It stung horribly, but then he felt the rough fri of a towel on his wrist, and something mopping the wound mently. Then there was a ess for a moment, and it hurt again.
"This is precious oi," the old man said. "Very difficult to obtain. Very good for wounds."
It was a dusty, battered tube of ordinary aic cream, such as Will could have bought in any pharma his world. The old man was handling it as if it were made of myrrh. Will looked away.
And while the man was dressing the wound, Lyra felt Pan-talaimon calling to her silently to e and look out the window. He was a kestrel perg on the open window frame, and his eyes had caught a movement below. She joined him, and saw a familiar figure: the girl Angelica was running toward her elder brother, Tullio, who stood with his back against the wall oher side of the narrow street waving his arms in the air as if trying to keep a flock of bats from his face. Theurned away and began to run his hands along the stones in the wall, looking closely at eae, ting them, feeling the edges, hung up his shoulders as if to ward off something behind him, shaking his head.
Angelica was desperate, and so was little Paolo behind her, and they reached their brother and seized his arms and tried to pull him away from whatever was troubling him.
And Lyra realized with a jolt of siess what was happening: the man was being attacked by Specters. Angeliew it, though she couldhem, of course, and little Paolo was g and striking at the empty air to try and drive them off; but it didnt help, and Tullio was lost. His movements became more and more lethargid presently they stopped altogether. Angelica g to him, shaking and shaking his arm, but nothing woke him; and Paolo was g his brothers name over and over as if that would bring him back.
Then Angelica seemed to feel Lyra watg her, and she looked up. For a moment their eyes met.
Lyra felt a jolt as if the girl had struck her a physical blow, because the hatred in her eyes was so intense, and then Paolo saw her looking and looked up too, and his little boys voice cried, "Well kill you! You dohis to Tullio! We gonna kill you, all right!"
The two children turned and ran, leaving their stri brot