The rider hauled his horse to a stop so hard the animal reared, hooves scraping dirt a few paces from my chest, and Lyra's blade came all the way out of its sheath."Don't!" The voice cracked halfway through. "Please. I'm not with the temple. I'm from Ledger."He couldn't have been more than fifteen. Thin as a fence rail, cloak two sizes too big, one hand still white-knuckled around the reins while the other stayed raised and open, like that alone might keep him from being cut down.Something new pricked at the edge of my awareness, and it wasn't the neck-prickle from the alley. This was sharper, closer, like hearing a second heartbeat in a silent room. Fast and frightened and unmistakably his. I hadn't known I could do that until the moment I did it."Everyone claims to be from the Ledger when they want something," Lyra said, and the point of her blade didn't drop an inch."I know, I know, he said you'd say that." The boy swallowed. "He said to tell you the tannery has a third exit,