Some nights, Will wondered at his fortune in meeting Lyra. If a car had moved differently, if the cat hadn't jumped, if the cafe hadn't been so quiet-perhaps they might've always been a whisper between universes, nothing more.
Some nights, he thought of the worlds with their wounds bleeding Specters, and he wondered at fate, for both he and his father had walked through the Dust of the universe, and had become angel and Israel through the same turn of chance.
And some nights, when Will hugged Kirjava close, he wondered whether that cat might've had a friend called Xaphania.