Lyra and Barley were at the table of the Inn, and looking over the map. Lyra was leaning back in her chair, staring out the window.

The town is less colorful in the daytime, and it was now busy and hustling. It is an orderly chaos, and the town was more and more appealing to Lyra.

Going home seemed to be a distant dream, and Lyra bitterly remembered James' mother and father.

But what should she tell Barley? Lyra told him to take her back to Fenrir. Would he accept her suddenly changing her mind?

Barley was looking at the map, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. Lyra stayed silent. She then looked back at her violin. Lyra felt bitter. If they threw her to the king without even a little bit of remorse, she should leave.

Lyra would go back. But if the people there were still traitors, she would leave.

Barley finally looked up from the map. "Ready to go?" Lyra nodded, and stood. "Where should we go next?" Barley stood as well, putting the map in his backpack.

"We'll be taking a boat as far as possible down the exiting river. Once we get off, we'll continue down the path, and when it's night, we'll plan the next segment." Lyra clicked her tongue. "Sounds good."

Outside, it was extremely crowded. In fact, Lyra had no idea how they'd walked around the town last night. Barley grabbed her hand. "Be careful. It's easy to get lo-" he didn't even finish his sentence. Lyra was yanked backwards, but not by the crowd. A hand had seized her hair, and was pulling relentlessly. Tears of pain came in Lyra's eyes.

"Let me go!" She yelled. The person who had her wasn't recognizable. They were too deep in the pool of people, and Lyra only saw a flash of an arm, and a brown tunic.

Lyra soon couldn't find Barley in the crowd. The unknown person had now grabbed her wrist, and with the combined pain in her head and the person twisting her arm, Lyra couldn't think. They were by the canal, practically on the edge. The person had extraordinary strength, and finally released her hair, and yanked her forward, so Lyra was face to face with her cause of pain.

It was a young girl, looking around Lyra's age. She had a bright red head of hair, and sharp, green eyes. She had a large amount of freckles, and she was angrily staring at Lyra. Suddenly, she smiled. "Hold your breath."

Lyra was just about to ask her what she meant, but the girl pushed her hard. Lyra felt her foot catch against the edge of the canal. She screamed, and tried to grab on to something. Anything. But all she saw were the girls leather shoes, and then she was in the ice cold water.

Lyra never knew how dark it could be underwater. And how deep it was. She tried to paddle, though she felt the water whoosh and throw her along.

Lyra was stiffened by the cold, and wondered what the girl had against her.  She slammed into the wall of the canal, and pain shot up her arm.

Lyra's head broke the surface. She gulped the fresh air, clawing for some kind of hand-hold. Lyra was soon lifted upwards, and dumped onto some wood. She coughed, her whole body shaking, and then looked up. It was a boatman, looking very worried.

"I saw you was pushed in the canal miss, and I was going past. You okay, miss?" Lyra took deep breaths, her wet, black hair falling in her face. "Yes, and thank you. Can you bring me back to the side?" The boatman dropped her off on the side, and Lyra shivered. She was freezing.

Lyra didn't know why the girl had pushed her, but she only had one goal at the moment.

To find Barley. He was probably worried.

But the more Lyra looked around the crowded town, the more the place seemed unfamiliar.

Someone pushed through the crowd, and Lyra saw the girl who pushed her into the canal. The girl stood in front of her, smirking. She held out a knife.

"I see you survived. Now, unless you want me to push you again, tell me: what do you know about the king?"

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BWAHAHA! ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! Sorry all I've been taking forever about updating, but I'm having a bit of writer's block lately. Welp, here's the chapter!

-Clo