Frida Kahlo Girl with Death MaskPino Early MorningJean-Leon Gerome Pygmalion and Galatea
came pressing through the trees, and only the valiant ghosts were holding them back.
"Can you cut through?" said John Parry's ghost.
Will held up the knife, and had to stop as a racking bout of nausea shook him from head to toe. There was said Lyra, gasping.
In went the knife, along, down, back. Lee Scoresby's ghost looked through and saw a wide, quiet prairie under a brilliant moon, so very like his own he thought he'd been blessed.
Will leapt across the clearing and seized the nearest daemon while Lyra scooped up the other.
And even in that horrible urgency, even at that moment of utmost peril, each of them felt the same little shock of excitement: for Lyra was holding Will's daemon, the nameless nothing left in his stomach, and the spasm hurt dreadfully. Lyra beside him was in the same state. Lee's ghost, seeing why, leapt for the daemons and wrestled with the pale thing that was coming through the rock from behind them."Will, please...”