Andy Warhol Superman

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quiet," said Will, "just be quiet. Don't disturb me."
It was just after Lyra had been taken, just after Will had come down from the mountaintop, just after the witch had killed his father. Will lit the little tin lantern he'd taken from his father's pack, using the dry matches that he'd found with it, and crouched in the lee of the rock to open Lyra's rucksack.
He felt inside with his good hand and found the heavy velvet-wrapped alethiometer. It glittered in the lantern light, and he held it came the voice. "We want to serve Lord Asriel. And the dead man, what did he want you to do with the knife?"
Will had to hesitate.
"He said I should take it to Lord Asriel," he said.
"Then come with us."
"No. Not till I've found Lyra."out to the two shapes that stood beside him, the shapes who called themselves angels."Can you read this?" he said."No," said a voice. "Come with us. You must come. Come now to Lord Asriel.""Who made you follow my father? You said he didn't know you were following him. But he did," Will said fiercely. "He told me to expect you. He knew more than you thought. Who sent you?""No one sent us. Ourselves only,"