Philip Pullman - His Dark Materials

PRAISE FOR PHILIP PULLMANS
HIS DARK MATERIALS

Book I The Golden Compass
Winner of the Carnegie Medal (England)
Winner of the Guardian Prize for Fiction (England)

Superb all-stops-out thrilling.

The Washington Post

Magnificent a fantasy-adventure that sparkles with childlike wonder.

The Boston Sunday Globe

Marvelous the writing is elegant and challenging.

The New Yorker

Book II The Subtle Knife
Winner of a Parents Choice Gold Award
A Booklist Editors Choice

Destined to become a classic.

Detroit Free Press

As rich and complex a fantasy novel as any adult reader could wish for.

San Francisco Examiner-Chronicle

The story gallops with ferocious momentum [and] Pullman is devilishly inventive.

The New York Times Book Review

Book III The Amber Spyglass
Winner of the Whitbread Book of the Year Award (England)
A New York Times Bestseller

Masterful. This title confirms Pullmans inclusion in the company of C. S. Lewis and Tolkien.

Smithsonian

As complex and dazzling as a kaleidoscope.

The Denver Post

A brilliantly written adventure story. Superbly crafted and breathtaking in scope.

Detroit Free Press

Also by Philip Pullman

His Dark Materials:

The Golden Compass Book I

The Subtle Knife Book II

The Amber Spyglass Book III

Lyras Oxford

The Broken Bridge

Count Karlstein

I Was a Rat!

Puss in Boots

The Ruby in the Smoke

The Scarecrow and His Servant

The Shadow in the North

Spring-Heeled Jack

The Tiger in the Well

The Tin Princess

The White Mercedes

THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Golden Compass copyright 1995 by Philip Pullman
The Subtle Knife copyright 1997 by Philip Pullman
The Amber Spyglass copyright 2000 by Philip Pullman
Interior illustrations copyright 2005 by Philip Pullman
Lantern Slides text copyright 2007 by Philip Pullman

All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass were published separately by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., in 1996, 1997, and 2000, respectively. The Golden Compass was originally published under the title His Dark Materials I: Northern Lights in Great Britain by Scholastic Childrens Books, an imprint of Scholastic Ltd., in 1995. The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass were published in Great Britain by Scholastic Childrens Books, an imprint of
Scholastic Ltd., in 1997 and 2000.

The title page illustration entitled Mr. Pullmans Raven, copyright 2006 by John Lawrence, was originally published in The Golden Compass Deluxe Edition by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., in 2006.

The Ecclesiast from Rivers and Mountains by John Ashbery. Copyright 1962, 1963, 1964, 1966 by John Ashbery. Reprinted by permission of Georges Borchardt, Inc., for the author.

The Third Elegy from Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke by Rainer Maria Rilke. Copyright 1982 by Stephen Mitchell. Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc.

KNOPF, BORZOI BOOKS , and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

www.randomhouse.com/teens

Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80820-2

v3.1

Into this wild abyss,

The womb of nature and perhaps her grave,

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire,

But all these in their pregnant causes mixed

Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,

Unless the almighty maker them ordain

His dark materials to create more worlds,

Into this wild abyss the wary fiend

Stood on the brink of hell and looked a while,

Pondering his voyage

John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book II

Lyra and her dmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.

Lyra stopped beside the Masters chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.

Youre not taking this seriously, whispered her dmon. Behave yourself.

Her dmons name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth, a dark brown one so as not to show up in the darkness of the hall.

Theyre making too much noise to hear from the kitchen, Lyra whispered back. And the Steward doesnt come in till the first bell. Stop fussing.

But she put her palm over the ringing crystal anyway, and Pantalaimon fluttered ahead and through the slightly open door of the Retiring Room at the other end of the dais. After a moment he appeared again.

Theres no one there, he whispered. But we must be quick.

Crouching behind the high table, Lyra darted along and through the door into the Retiring Room, where she stood up and looked around. The only light in here came from the fireplace, where a bright blaze of logs settled slightly as she looked, sending a fountain of sparks up into the chimney. She had lived most of her life in the College, but had never seen the Retiring Room before: only Scholars and their guests were allowed in here, and never females. Even the maidservants didnt clean in here. That was the Butlers job alone.

Pantalaimon settled on her shoulder.

Happy now? Can we go? he whispered.