"There's a black cat in a tree. It smiled at me."

It was late afternoon when Pan slinked back to Lyra's side while she read in the lazy golden sunlight of the Botanic Garden.

"Cats can't smile Pan."

Lyra continued reading without looking up as Pan curled up around her, his red-gold coat burning fiery red in the slanting sunlight.

"I know, it was a dæmon."

Lyra paused at this. Her eyes narrowed.

"Show me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The cat was still there when Lyra followed Pan's hesitant steps retracing his path back to a tree on the edge of the garden overhanging the River Cherwell. Lyra had half expected to find that it had disappeared. Pan paused as they rounded the corner of the path which brought the tree in sight.

"I can't see anyone."

All of Lyra's senses prickled with the sensation of being watched (and it wasn't the cat-dæmon, it was currently eying a sparrow that alighted in a higher branch on the tree), but there was no one in sight.

"Do you think it's a witch dæmon?" whispered Pan. Lyra shook her head. "Witch dæmons are always birds." Pan shuffled uneasily next to Lyra. "A shaman then?" Lyra cocked her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Perhaps."

She continued down the path towards the cat in a tree. Pan paused for a moment and then quickly hurried after her.

"You're going to talk to it?" Pan looked nervously up at Lyra, who was still strolling casually down the cobble path.

"Of course."

Pan cast a nervous sidelong glance at Lyra but fell silent. Lyra walked up to the base of the tree and looked up at the cat, who had lost interest in the bird and was now eying them with an air of amusement.

"Who are you?" Lyra demanded, looking up at the cat-dæmon who preened indignantly and gave her a searing glance.

"My, such arrogance in one so young." said the cat. Its voice was a deep, sultry, woman's alto. Lyra narrowed her eyes at the cat rearranging itself lazily on the tree branch.

"Where's your human?"

Lyra crossed her arms and looked expectantly at the cat-dæmon. Pan slinked cautiously around Lyra's ankles and glanced around the garden, searching for a sign of movement.

The cat grinned, and then she laughed.

Lyra bristled.

"What's so funny?" she demanded. Meanwhile, Pan had slinked off out of sight. The cat-dæmon smiled widely at her.

"I don't have one."

Lyra scoffed .

"Liar."

The cat only smiled at her, and licked her forepaw delicately. Lyra regarded the cat sharply and then softening her look, she tried a different approach.

"I've always wanted to meet a shaman." She said, smiling shyly up at the cat-dæmon. The cat grinned again.

"Now who's the liar?" The cat said.

Lyra scowled at the cat, but then collected herself.

"Look, I'm just incredibly BORED being stuck here in this stuffy academic place with everyone being all self-important and up in their books all the time. You're the most interesting thing to have happened to me since I came home."

She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips.

"I am not your entertainment." The cat said simply, and then turned her attention to another bird (a robin this time) which had landed in another distant branch above it.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly rude?" Lyra said to the cat, who turned back to look at her.
"Yes, I've often been told that." The cat said, looking thoughtful.
"I bet even your human can't stand you." Lyra taunted, smirking at the cat-dæmon. This time, it was the cat who narrowed her eyes and sat up, arching her back.

"I don't have a human," She hissed back at Lyra, "now run along back to your books you pathetic mortal and leave me in peace."

The cat-dæmon was just about to turn tail and settle back down for a cat-nap when she was pounced by the pine-marten which had been sneaking up the back of the the tree while she and Lyra had been exchanging words. A series of yowls, hisses and howls ensued while the two creatures swiped at each other in a flurry of fur and teeth.

It was quickly over when the black cat made a particular nasty swipe at the pine marten and Pan recoiled, retreating back on the branch, and licked at the slash on his side still glaring at the cat. The cat hissed, showing her teeth. Lyra noticed with satisfaction that she was holding her left hind leg rather strangely.

"Enough."

Lyra heard a man's voice sound behind her, a hint of annoyance in his tone. The corner of her mouth lifted, and she turned to meet the boring stare of a pair of dark green eyes.

"I don't have time to play with little mortal brats," said the man. He was tall with dark hair and fair skin and wore a dark suit with a bottle-green scarf that matched his eyes, looking as unremarkable as any other inhabitant of the university.

Lyra ignored his jibe and demanded a second time, "Who are you?"

She held his gaze steadily while he regarded her with his piercing eyes.

"I am Loki of Asgard, tiny human."

The man grinned a matching smile to his cat-dæmon's, showing a flash of white teeth, and loomed over Lyra, casting a long shadow over her as the slanting sun sunk ever the more lower on the horizon. His eyes glimmered in the shadow, and Lyra was suddenly reminded of Mrs. Coulter (her mother, she corrected herself, she was my mother).

Lyra cocked her head to the side.

"What are you?"

Loki smiled again and bent down, so that they were now face to face.

"Ah. Finally the right questions," he said, "perhaps you are not so slow after all."

Lyra scoffed again, "I don't think I'm the slow one around here." She looked at him pointedly. Loki raised an eyebrow. Pan, who had returned once again to Lyra's side, sniggered and Loki's cat-dæmon who was curled around his leg sniffed and bared her teeth.

Loki gave an impatient tsk and rolled his eyes.

"He's changing the subject." Pan piped up from Lyra's arm where he was currently perching.
"Oh be quiet," said Loki's dæmon.

Lyra looked expectantly at Loki, who sighed impatiently. "If it really satisfies that morbid curiosity of yours, mortal girl, I am what you might call…a god."

"Gods don't exist," Lyra deadpans immediately, "they're Angels with inflated egos and a penchant for megalomania."

Loki looked rather taken aback, but recovers himself quickly. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"I assure you, I am one, little girl." He emphasized the last two words rather more forcefully than he had to.

"uh-huh."

Pan stuck his tongue out at the cat, who looked affronted and did not dignify it with a response.

"You have a dæmon," Lyra said, "gods don't have dæmons. Angels don't have dæmons. You're only human." "Furthermore," Lyra continued, "Lord Asriel's dæmon was a snow-leopard and he was the most commanding person I've ever known. If gods really did have dæmons, shouldn't yours be a little more –(Lyra glanced at the diminuitive cat sitting primly on the grass) -…impressive?"

Loki looked at her thoughtfully for a second, and then said, "Like this?"

A black panther was now purring at Loki's feet. Lyra's eyes widened.

"That's impossible."

"Is it?"

A smile quirked at the corner of Loki's mouth as both Lyra and Pan stared wide-eyed at the preening panther.

"I wish I could still do that," Pan muttered, "would sure come in handy sometimes."

"Grown ups' dæmons can't change shape." Lyra said lamely, aware that she sounded like an idiot.

"Quite apparently, a god's can." Loki was now stroking the panther's head as she nuzzled his hand. A deep purring sounded from her throat. Lyra watched them silently, unable to think of anything to say for once – something that happened rarely in her life.

"Now," Loki said, "I've wasted far too much time dwaddling with you. I've got important things to do, so if you don't mind- " Loki gathered his dæmon in his arms, who to Lyra's astonishment had diminished once again into the shape of a cat, and then he smiled at her again (and again Lyra was reminded of Mrs. Coulter) and winked, and then Lyra must have blinked because suddenly he was gone, cat-dæmon and all.

Lyra found herself dumbstruck again for the second time that day. It was Pan who broke the silence as the sky darkened to deep violet above them.

"He was looking for the Alethiometer you know."

"I know, there was a spot of ink on his left shirt cuff although I don't know how he got it off his fingers, no one's ever got past my booby traps."

Lyra pulled the gold chain of the Alethiometer out from her pocket and nestled its heavy weight in the palm of her hand.

"I think he had better luck with Dame Hannah's."

"She won't be pleased."

"Nope."

Originally uploaded on my tumblr: sky-traveller . tumblr .com. Most recent chapters will be uploaded there first. Can be found under "Silvertongue" link on sidebar. Let me know what you guys think :) Haven't been hit by a plot-bunny in a long time.