«Just us, then. Don't matter. We're not alone, anyway; not like….»

She knew he meant not like Tony Makarios; not like those poor lost daemons at Bolvangar; we're still one being; both of us are one.

«And we've got the alethiometer,» she said. «Yeah. I reckon we've got to do it, Pan. We'll go up there and we'll search for Dust, and when we've found it we'll know what to do.»

Roger's body lay still in her arms. She let him down gently.

«And we'll do it,» she said.

She turned away. Behind them lay pain and death and fear; ahead of them lay doubt, and danger, and fathomless mysteries. But they weren't alone.

So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.

END OF BOOK ONE