Excerpt from La Belle Sauvage by Philip Pullman, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"I'm going to come up alongside a willow stump," he said very quietly. "The grass is thick there. We'll tie her up and go back across the field, behind the hedge."

Lord Asriel was just as good at getting out as he'd been at getting in. Malcolm couldn't imagine a better passenger. He tied the boat to a stout willow branch growing from the stump, and a few seconds later they were moving along the edge of the meadow, under the shade of the hedge.

Malcolm found the gap he knew about and forced his way through the brambles. It must have been harder for the man, being bigger, but he didn't say a word. They were in the priory orchard; the lines of plum trees and apple trees, of pear trees and damson trees, stood bare and neat and fast asleep under the moon.

Malcolm led the way around the back of the priory and came to the side where the window of Lyra's nursery would be, if it hadn't been hidden by the new shutters. They did look remarkably solid.

He counted once more to make sure it was the right one, and then tapped quietly on the shutter with a stone.

Lord Asriel was standing close by. The moon was shining full on this side of the building, so they would both be clearly visible from some way off.

Malcolm whispered, "I don't want to wake any of the other nuns, and I don't want to startle Sister Fenella because of her heart. We got to be careful."

"I'm in your hands," said Lord Asriel.

Malcolm tapped again a little harder.

"Sister Fenella," he whispered.

No response. He tapped a third time.

"Sister Fenella, it's me, Malcolm," he whispered.

What he was really worried about was Sister Benedicta, of course. He dreaded to think what would happen if he woke her, so he kept as quiet as he could while still trying to wake Sister Fenella, which was not easy.

Asriel stood still, watching and saying nothing.

Finally Malcolm heard a stirring inside the room. Lyra gave a little mew, and then it sounded as if Sister Fenella moved a chair or a small table. Her soft old voice murmured something, like a word or two of comfort to the baby.
He tried again, just a little louder. "Sister Fenella ..."

A little exclamation of shock.

"It's me, Malcolm," he said.

A soft noise, like the movement of bare feet on the floor, and then the clock of the window catch.
"Sister Fenella—"

"Malcolm? What are you doing?"

Like him, she was whispering. Her voice was frightened and thick with sleep. She hadn't opened the shutter.

"Sister, I'm sorry, I really am," he said quickly. "But Lyra's father's here, and he's being pursued by—by his enemies, and he really needs to see Lyra before—before he goes on somewhere else. To—to say goodbye," he added.

"Oh, that's nonsense, Malcolm! You know we can't let him—"

"Sister, please! He's really in earnest," Malcolm said, finding that phrase from somewhere.

"It's impossible. You must go away now, Malcolm. This is a bad thing to ask. Go away before she wakes up. I daren't think what Sister Benedicta—"

Malcolm didn't dare think it either. But then he felt Lord Asriel's hand on his shoulder, and the man said, "Let me speak to Sister Fenella. You go and keep watch, Malcolm."

Malcolm moved away to the corner of the building. From there he could see the bridge and most of the garden, and watched as Lord Asriel leaned towards the shutter and spoke quietly. It was a whisper; Malcolm could hear nothing at all. How long Asriel and Sister Fenella spoke he couldn't have guessed, but it was a long time, and he was shivering hard when he saw, to his amazement, the heavy shutter move slowly. Lord Asriel stood back to let it open, and then stepped in again, showing his open, weapon-less hands, turning his head a little to let the moonlight fall clearly on his face.

Excerpted from The Book of Dust: La Belle Sauvage (Book of Dust, Volume 1) by Philip Pullman. Copyright © 2017 by Philip Pullman. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.