**Lyra's Point of View**

The cold was not from this world. It didn't come in through the windows or whisper through the cracks in the doors. It grew from the middle of the room, a pocket of absolute zero that sucked the heat out of the air, our skin, and even our breath, which now hung in ghostly plumes in front of us. The flickering lights stuttered and went out, leaving us in a deep, unnatural darkness. The only light came from the faint, sickly green glow of my medallion and the dying ...