The trembling in the foundation of her world did not feel like a cataclysm. It felt, to Lyra’s surprise, like a question.
A question that had been there all along, buried beneath the weight of her songs, a question that the silence now allowed her to hear.
’What if,’ the silence seemed to ask, ’the world is not a story to be told, but a thing to be known?’
And in that question, Lyra felt not the end of her world, but the beginning of a new one, a world large enough to hold both the song and the stone.