The Magician's Nephew · One THE WRONG DOOR THIS IS A STORY ABOUT SOMETHING that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it …

TheMagician’sNephew

C.S.LewisBookOne

TheMagician’sNephewIllustratedbyPaulineBaynes

TotheKilmerFamily

ContentsOne

TheWrongDoorTwo

DigoryandHisUncleThree

TheWoodBetweentheWorldsFour

TheBellandtheHammerFive

TheDeplorableWordSix

TheBeginningofUncleAndrew’sTroublesSeven

WhatHappenedattheFrontDoorEight

TheFightattheLamp-postNine

TheFoundingofNarnia

TenTheFirstJokeandOtherMatters

ElevenDigoryandHisUncleAreBothinTrouble

TwelveStrawberry’sAdventure

ThirteenAnUnexpectedMeeting

FourteenThePlantingoftheTree

FifteenTheEndofThisStoryandtheBeginningof

AlltheOthersAbouttheAuthor

OtherBooksintheNarniaSeriesCredits

CopyrightAboutthePublisher

OneTHEWRONGDOORTHIS IS A STORY ABOUT SOMETHING that happened long ago when yourgrandfatherwasachild.ItisaveryimportantstorybecauseitshowshowallthecomingsandgoingsbetweenourownworldandthelandofNarniafirstbegan.

In thosedaysMr.SherlockHolmeswas still living inBakerStreet and theBastableswerelookingfortreasureintheLewishamRoad.Inthosedays,ifyouwereaboyyouhadtowearastiffEtoncollareveryday,andschoolswereusuallynastierthannow.Butmealswerenicer;andasforsweets,Iwon’ttellyouhowcheapandgoodtheywere,becauseitwouldonlymakeyourmouthwaterinvain.AndinthosedaystherelivedinLondonagirlcalledPollyPlummer.

Shelivedinoneofalongrowofhouseswhichwerealljoinedtogether.Onemorningshewasoutinthebackgardenwhenaboyscrambledupfromthegardennextdoorandputhisfaceover thewall.Pollywasverysurprisedbecauseuptillnowtherehadneverbeenanychildreninthathouse,butonlyMr.KetterleyandMissKetterley,abrotherandsister,oldbachelorandoldmaid,livingtogether.Soshelookedup,fullofcuriosity.Thefaceofthestrangeboywasverygrubby.Itcouldhardlyhavebeengrubbierifhehadfirstrubbedhishands in theearth,and thenhadagoodcry,and thendriedhis facewithhishands.Asamatteroffact,thiswasverynearlywhathehadbeendoing.

“Hullo,”saidPolly.

“Hullo,”saidtheboy.“What’syourname?”

“Polly,”saidPolly.“What’syours?”

“Digory,”saidtheboy.

“Isay,whatafunnyname!”saidPolly.

“Itisn’thalfsofunnyasPolly,”saidDigory.

“Yesitis,”saidPolly.

“No,itisn’t,”saidDigory.

“AtanyrateIdowashmyface,”saidPolly,“whichiswhatyouneedtodo;especiallyafter—”andthenshestopped.Shehadbeengoingtosay“Afteryou’vebeenblubbing,”butshethoughtthatwouldn’tbepolite.

“All right, I have then,” saidDigory in amuch loudervoice, like a boywhowas somiserablethathedidn’tcarewhoknewhehadbeencrying.“Andsowouldyou,”hewenton,“ifyou’dlivedallyourlifeinthecountryandhadapony,andariveratthebottomofthegarden,andthenbeenbroughttoliveinabeastlyHolelikethis.”

“London isn’taHole,”saidPolly indignantly.But theboywas toowoundup to takeanynoticeofher,andhewenton—

“AndifyourfatherwasawayinIndia—andyouhadtocomeandlivewithanAuntandanUnclewho’smad(whowouldlikethat?)—andifthereasonwasthattheywerelookingafteryourMother—andifyourMotherwasillandwasgoingto—goingto—die.”Thenhisfacewentthewrongsortofshapeasitdoesifyou’retryingtokeepbackyourtears.

“Ididn’tknow.I’msorry,”saidPollyhumbly.Andthen,becauseshehardlyknewwhattosay,andalsototurnDigory’smindtocheerfulsubjects,sheasked:

“IsMr.Ketterleyreallymad?”

“Welleitherhe’smad,”saidDigory,“orthere’ssomeothermystery.HehasastudyonthetopfloorandAuntLettysaysImustnevergoupthere.Well,thatlooksfishytobeginwith.And then there’s another thing.Whenever he tries to say anything tome atmealtimes—he never even tries to talk to her—she always shuts him up. She says, ‘Don’tworrytheboy,Andrew’or‘I’msureDigorydoesn’twanttohearaboutthat’orelse‘Now,Digory,wouldn’tyouliketogooutandplayinthegarden?’”

“Whatsortofthingsdoeshetrytosay?”

“Idon’tknow.Henevergetsfarenough.Butthere’smorethanthat.Onenight—itwaslastnightinfact—asIwasgoingpastthefootoftheattic-stairsonmywaytobed(andIdon’tmuchcareforgoingpastthemeither)I’msureIheardayell.”

“Perhapshekeepsamadwifeshutupthere.”

“Yes,I’vethoughtofthat.”

“Orperhapshe’sacoiner.”

“Orhemighthavebeenapirate,likethemanatthebeginningofTreasureIsland,andbealwayshidingfromhisoldshipmates.”

“Howexciting!”saidPolly.“Ineverknewyourhousewassointeresting.”

“Youmay think it interesting,” saidDigory. “But youwouldn’t like it if you had tosleepthere.HowwouldyouliketolieawakelisteningforUncleAndrew’ssteptocomecreepingalongthepassagetoyourroom?Andhehassuchawfuleyes.”

That was how Polly and Digory got to know one another: and as it was just thebeginningofthesummerholidaysandneitherofthemwasgoingtotheseathatyear,theymetnearlyeveryday.

Theiradventuresbeganchieflybecauseitwasoneofthewettestandcoldestsummersthere had been for years. That drove them to do indoor things: youmight say, indoorexploration.Itiswonderfulhowmuchexploringyoucandowithastumpofcandleinabig house, or in a row of houses. Polly had discovered long ago that if you opened acertainlittledoorinthebox-roomatticofherhouseyouwouldfindthecisternandadarkplacebehinditwhichyoucouldgetintobyalittlecarefulclimbing.Thedarkplacewaslikea long tunnelwithbrickwallononesideandslopingroofon theother. In therooftherewerelittlechunksoflightbetweentheslates.Therewasnofloorinthistunnel:youhadtostepfromraftertorafter,andbetweenthemtherewasonlyplaster.Ifyousteppedonthisyouwouldfindyourselffallingthroughtheceilingoftheroombelow.Pollyhadusedthebitofthetunneljustbesidethecisternasasmugglers’cave.Shehadbroughtupbitsofoldpackingcasesandtheseatsofbrokenkitchenchairs,andthingsofthatsort,andspreadthemacrossfromraftertoraftersoastomakeabitoffloor.Hereshekeptacash-boxcontainingvarious treasures, anda story shewaswritingandusuallya fewapples.She had often drunk a quiet bottle of ginger-beer in there: the old bottlesmade it lookmorelikeasmugglers’cave.

Digory quite liked the cave (she wouldn’t let him see the story) but he was moreinterestedinexploring.

“Lookhere,”hesaid.“Howlongdoesthistunnelgoonfor?Imean,doesitstopwhereyourhouseends?”

“No,”saidPolly.“Thewallsdon’tgoouttotheroof.Itgoeson.Idon’tknowhowfar.”

“Thenwecouldgetthelengthofthewholerowofhouses.”

“Sowecould,”saidPolly.“Andoh,Isay!”

“What?”

“Wecouldgetintotheotherhouses.”

“Yes,andgettakenupforburglars!Nothanks.”

“Don’tbesojollyclever.Iwasthinkingofthehousebeyondyours.”

“Whataboutit?”

“Why,it’stheemptyone.Daddysaysit’salwaysbeenemptyeversincewecamehere.”

“Isupposeweoughttohavealookatitthen,”saidDigory.Hewasagooddealmoreexcited thanyou’dhave thoughtfromthewayhespoke.Forofcoursehewas thinking,justasyouwouldhavebeen,ofallthereasonswhythehousemighthavebeenemptysolong.SowasPolly.Neitherofthemsaidtheword“haunted.”Andbothfeltthatoncethethinghadbeensuggested,itwouldbefeeblenottodoit.

“Shallwegoandtryitnow?”saidDigory.

“Allright,”saidPolly.

“Don’tifyou’drathernot,”saidDigory.

“I’mgameifyouare,”saidshe.

“Howarewetoknowwhenwe’reinthenexthousebutone?”

Theydecided theywouldhave togoout into thebox-roomandwalkacross it takingstepsaslongasthestepsfromoneraftertothenext.Thatwouldgivethemanideaofhowmany rafters went to a room. Then theywould allow about fourmore for the passagebetweenthetwoatticsinPolly’shouse,andthenthesamenumberforthemaid’sbedroomasforthebox-room.Thatwouldgivethemthelengthofthehouse.Whentheyhaddonethat distance twice theywouldbe at the endofDigory’s house; anydoor they came toafterthatwouldletthemintoanatticoftheemptyhouse.

“ButIdon’texpectit’sreallyemptyatall,”saidDigory.

“Whatdoyouexpect?”

“I expect someone lives there in secret,onlycoming inandout atnight,withadarklantern.Weshallprobablydiscoveragangofdesperatecriminalsandgetareward.It’sallrottosayahousewouldbeemptyallthoseyearsunlesstherewassomemystery.”

“Daddythoughtitmustbethedrains,”saidPolly.

“Pooh! Grown-ups are always thinking of uninteresting explanations,” said Digory.Now that they were talking by daylight in the attic instead of by candlelight in theSmugglers’Caveitseemedmuchlesslikelythattheemptyhousewouldbehaunted.

Whentheyhadmeasuredtheattictheyhadtogetapencilanddoasum.Theybothgotdifferentanswerstoitatfirst,andevenwhentheyagreedIamnotsuretheygotitright.Theywereinahurrytostartontheexploration.

“Wemustn’tmake a sound,” said Polly as they climbed in again behind the cistern.Becauseitwassuchanimportantoccasiontheytookacandleeach(Pollyhadagoodstoreoftheseinhercave).

Itwasverydarkanddustyanddraftyandtheysteppedfromrafter torafterwithoutawordexceptwhentheywhisperedtooneanother,“We’reoppositeyouratticnow”or“thismustbehalfwaythroughourhouse.”Andneitherofthemstumbledandthecandlesdidn’tgoout,andatlasttheycamewheretheycouldseealittledoorinthebrickwallontheirright.Therewasnoboltorhandleonthissideofit,ofcourse,forthedoorhadbeenmadeforgettingin,notforgettingout;buttherewasacatch(asthereoftenisontheinsideofacupboarddoor)whichtheyfeltsuretheywouldbeabletoturn.

“ShallI?”saidDigory.

“I’m game if you are,” said Polly, just as she had said before. Both felt that it wasbecomingveryserious,butneitherwoulddrawback.Digorypushedroundthecatchwithsomedifficulty.Thedoor swungopen and the suddendaylightmade themblink.Then,withagreatshock, theysawthat theywere looking,not intoadesertedattic,but intoafurnishedroom.Butitseemedemptyenough.Itwasdeadsilent.Polly’scuriositygotthebetterofher.Sheblewouthercandleandsteppedoutintothestrangeroom,makingnomorenoisethanamouse.

Itwasshaped,ofcourse,likeanattic,butfurnishedasasitting-room.Everybitofthewallswas linedwith shelvesandeverybitof the shelveswas fullofbooks.A firewasburninginthegrate(yourememberthatitwasaverycoldwetsummerthatyear)andinfrontofthefireplacewithitsbacktowardthemwasahigh-backedarmchair.BetweenthechairandPolly,andfillingmostofthemiddleoftheroom,wasabigtablepiledwithallsortsofthings—printedbooks,andbooksofthesortyouwritein,andinkbottlesandpensand sealing-waxand amicroscope.Butwhat shenoticed firstwas abright redwoodentray with a number of rings on it. Theywere in pairs—a yellow one and a green one

together, then a little space, and then another yellow one and another green one. Theywere no bigger than ordinary rings, and no one could help noticing them because theyweresobright.Theywerethemostbeautifullyshinylittlethingsyoucanimagine.IfPollyhadbeenaverylittleyoungershewouldhavewantedtoputoneinhermouth.

Theroomwassoquietthatyounoticedthetickingoftheclockatonce.Andyet,asshenow found, it was not absolutely quiet either. There was a faint—a very, very faint—humming sound. Ifvacuumcleanershadbeen invented in thosedaysPollywouldhavethoughtitwasthesoundofaHooverbeingworkedalongwayoff—severalroomsawayandseveralfloorsbelow.Butitwasanicersoundthanthat,amoremusicaltone:onlysofaintthatyoucouldhardlyhearit.

“It’s all right; there’s no one here,” said Polly over her shoulder toDigory. Shewasspeaking above awhisper now.AndDigory came out, blinking and looking extremelydirty—asindeedPollywastoo.

“This is no good,” he said. “It’s not an empty house at all.We’d better leave beforeanyonecomes.”

“Whatdoyouthinkthoseare?”saidPolly,pointingatthecoloredrings.

“Ohcomeon,”saidDigory.“Thesooner—”

Henever finishedwhathewasgoing to say forat thatmomentsomethinghappened.Thehigh-backedchairinfrontofthefiremovedsuddenlyandthereroseupoutofit—likeapantomimedemoncomingupoutofatrapdoor—thealarmingformofUncleAndrew.Theywerenotintheemptyhouseatall;theywereinDigory’shouseandintheforbiddenstudy! Both children said “O-o-oh” and realized their terrible mistake. They felt theyoughttohaveknownallalongthattheyhadn’tgonenearlyfarenough.

UncleAndrewwastallandverythin.Hehadalongclean-shavenfacewithasharply-pointednoseandextremelybrighteyesandagreattousledmopofgrayhair.

Digorywasquitespeechless,forUncleAndrewlookedathousandtimesmorealarmingthanhehadeverlookedbefore.Pollywasnotsofrightenedyet;butshesoonwas.FortheveryfirstthingUncleAndrewdidwastowalkacrosstothedooroftheroom,shutit,andturnthekeyinthelock.Thenheturnedround,fixedthechildrenwithhisbrighteyes,andsmiled,showingallhisteeth.

“There!”hesaid.“Nowmyfoolofasistercan’tgetatyou!”

Itwas dreadfully unlike anything a grown-upwould be expected to do. Polly’s heartcameintohermouth,andsheandDigorystartedbackingtowardthelittledoortheyhadcomeinby.UncleAndrewwastooquickforthem.Hegotbehindthemandshutthatdoortooandstood infrontof it.Thenherubbedhishandsandmadehisknucklescrack.Hehadverylong,beautifullywhite,fingers.

“Iamdelightedtoseeyou,”hesaid.“TwochildrenarejustwhatIwanted.”

“Please,Mr.Ketterley,”saidPolly.“It’snearlymydinnertimeandI’vegottogohome.Willyouletusout,please?”

“Notjustyet,”saidUncleAndrew.“Thisistoogoodanopportunitytomiss.Iwanted

twochildren.Yousee,I’minthemiddleofagreatexperiment.I’vetrieditonaguinea-piganditseemedtowork.Butthenaguinea-pigcan’t tellyouanything.Andyoucan’texplaintoithowtocomeback.”

“Lookhere,UncleAndrew,”saidDigory,“itreallyisdinnertimeandthey’llbelookingforusinamoment.Youmustletusout.”

“Must?”saidUncleAndrew.

DigoryandPollyglancedatoneanother.Theydarednotsayanything,buttheglancesmeant“Isn’tthisdreadful?”and“Wemusthumorhim.”

“Ifyouletusgoforourdinnernow,”saidPolly,“wecouldcomebackafterdinner.”

“Ah,buthowdo Iknow thatyouwould?”saidUncleAndrewwithacunningsmile.Thenheseemedtochangehismind.

“Well,well,”he said, “ifyou reallymustgo, I supposeyoumust. I can’t expect twoyoungsterslikeyoutofinditmuchfuntalkingtoanoldbufferlikeme.”Hesighedandwenton.“You’venoideahowlonelyIsometimesam.Butnomatter.Gotoyourdinner.ButImustgiveyouapresentbeforeyougo.It’snoteverydaythatIseealittlegirlinmydingyoldstudy;especially,ifImaysayso,suchaveryattractiveyoungladyasyourself.”

Pollybegantothinkhemightnotreallybemadafterall.

“Wouldn’tyoulikearing,mydear?”saidUncleAndrewtoPolly.

“Doyoumeanoneofthoseyelloworgreenones?”saidPolly.“Howlovely!”

“Notagreenone,” saidUncleAndrew.“I’mafraid Ican’tgive thegreenonesaway.ButI’dbedelightedtogiveyouanyoftheyellowones:withmylove.Comeandtryoneon.”

Polly hadnowquite got over her fright and felt sure that the old gentlemanwas notmad;andtherewascertainlysomethingstrangelyattractiveaboutthosebrightrings.Shemovedovertothetray.

“Why!Ideclare,”shesaid.“Thathummingnoisegetslouderhere.It’salmostasiftheringsweremakingit.”

“What a funny fancy,my dear,” saidUncleAndrewwith a laugh. It sounded a verynaturallaugh,butDigoryhadseenaneager,almostagreedy,lookonhisface.

“Polly!Don’tbeafool!”heshouted.“Don’ttouchthem.”

Itwas too late.Exactlyashe spoke,Polly’shandwentout to touchoneof the rings.Andimmediately,withoutaflashoranoiseorawarningofanysort,therewasnoPolly.DigoryandhisUnclewerealoneintheroom.

TwoDIGORYANDHISUNCLEITWASSOSUDDEN,ANDSOHORRIBLYunlikeanythingthathadeverhappenedtoDigoryeveninanightmare,thatheletoutascream.InstantlyUncleAndrew’shandwasoverhismouth. “Noneof that!”hehissed inDigory’s ear. “Ifyou startmakinganoiseyourMother’llhearit.Andyouknowwhatafrightmightdotoher.”

AsDigorysaidafterward,thehorriblemeannessofgettingatachapinthatway,almostmadehimsick.Butofcoursehedidn’tscreamagain.

“That’sbetter,”saidUncleAndrew.“Perhapsyoucouldn’thelp it. It isashockwhenyoufirstseesomeonevanish.Why,itgaveevenmeaturnwhentheguinea-pigdidittheothernight.”

“Wasthatwhenyouyelled?”askedDigory.

“Oh,youheardthat,didyou?Ihopeyouhaven’tbeenspyingonme?”

“No,Ihaven’t,”saidDigoryindignantly.“Butwhat’shappenedtoPolly?”

“Congratulate me, my dear boy,” said Uncle Andrew, rubbing his hands. “Myexperimenthassucceeded.Thelittlegirl’sgone—vanished—rightoutoftheworld.”

“Whathaveyoudonetoher?”

“Sentherto—well—toanotherplace.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”askedDigory.

UncleAndrewsatdownandsaid,“Well,I’lltellyouallaboutit.HaveyoueverheardofoldMrs.Lefay?”

“Wasn’tsheagreat-auntorsomething?”saidDigory.

“Notexactly,” saidUncleAndrew.“Shewasmygodmother.That’sher, there,on thewall.”

Digory lookedandsawafadedphotograph: itshowedthefaceofanoldwomaninabonnet.Andhecouldnowrememberthathehadonceseenaphotoofthesamefaceinanolddrawer,athome,inthecountry.HehadaskedhisMotherwhoitwasandMotherhadnotseemed towant to talkabout thesubjectmuch. Itwasnotatallaniceface,Digorythought,thoughofcoursewiththoseearlyphotographsonecouldneverreallytell.

“Wasthere—wasn’tthere—somethingwrongabouther,UncleAndrew?”hesaid.

“Well,”saidUncleAndrewwithachuckle,“itdependswhatyoucallwrong.Peoplearesonarrow-minded.Shecertainlygotveryqueerinlaterlife.Didveryunwisethings.Thatwaswhytheyshutherup.”

“Inanasylum,doyoumean?”

“Ohno,no,no,”saidUncleAndrewinashockedvoice.“Nothingofthatsort.Onlyinprison.”

“Isay!”saidDigory.“Whathadshedone?”

“Ah,poorwoman,”saidUncleAndrew.“Shehadbeenveryunwise.Therewereagoodmanydifferentthings.Weneedn’tgointoallthat.Shewasalwaysverykindtome.”

“Butlookhere,whathasallthisgottodowithPolly?Idowishyou’d—”

“All ingoodtime,myboy,”saidUncleAndrew.“TheyletoldMrs.LefayoutbeforeshediedandIwasoneoftheveryfewpeoplewhomshewouldallowtoseeherinherlastillness.Shehadgottodislikeordinary,ignorantpeople,youunderstand.Idomyself.Butshe and Iwere interested in the same sort of things. Itwasonly a fewdaysbefore herdeaththatshetoldmetogotoanoldbureauinherhouseandopenasecretdrawerandbringheralittleboxthatIwouldfindthere.ThemomentIpickedupthatboxIcouldtellbytheprickinginmyfingers thatIheldsomegreatsecret inmyhands.ShegaveitmeandmademepromisethatassoonasshewasdeadIwouldburnit,unopened,withcertainceremonies.ThatpromiseIdidnotkeep.”

“Well,then,itwasjollyrottenofyou,”saidDigory.

“Rotten?”saidUncleAndrewwithapuzzledlook.“Oh,Isee.Youmeanthatlittleboysoughttokeeptheirpromises.Verytrue:mostrightandproper,I’msure,andI’mverygladyouhavebeentaughttodoit.Butofcourseyoumustunderstandthatrulesofthatsort,however excellent they may be for little boys—and servants—and women—and evenpeople in general, can’t possibly be expected to apply to profound students and greatthinkersandsages.No,Digory.Menlikeme,whopossesshiddenwisdom,arefreedfromcommonrulesjustaswearecutofffromcommonpleasures.Ours,myboy,isahighandlonelydestiny.”

As he said this he sighed and looked so grave and noble and mysterious that for asecond Digory really thought he was saying something rather fine. But then herememberedtheuglylookhehadseenonhisUncle’sfacethemomentbeforePollyhadvanished:andallatoncehesawthroughUncleAndrew’sgrandwords.“Allitmeans,”hesaidtohimself,“isthathethinkshecandoanythinghelikestogetanythinghewants.”

“Ofcourse,”saidUncleAndrew,“Ididn’tdare toopen theboxfora long time, for Iknew it might contain something highly dangerous. For my godmother was a veryremarkablewoman.Thetruthis,shewasoneofthelastmortalsinthiscountrywhohadfairybloodinher.(Shesaidtherehadbeentwoothersinhertime.Onewasaduchessandthe other was a charwoman.) In fact, Digory, you are now talking to the last man(possibly) who really had a fairy godmother. There! That’ll be something for you torememberwhenyouareanoldmanyourself.”

“I bet she was a bad fairy,” thought Digory; and added out loud, “But what about

Polly?”

“Howyoudoharponthat!”saidUncleAndrew.“Asifthatwaswhatmattered!Myfirsttaskwasofcoursetostudytheboxitself.Itwasveryancient.AndIknewenougheventhentoknowthatitwasn’tGreek,orOldEgyptian,orBabylonian,orHittite,orChinese.Itwasolderthananyofthosenations.Ah—thatwasagreatdaywhenIatlastfoundoutthetruth.TheboxwasAtlantean; itcamefromthelost islandofAtlantis.Thatmeant itwascenturiesolderthananyofthestone-agethingstheydigupinEurope.Anditwasn’tarough,crudethinglikethemeither.For in theverydawnof timeAtlantiswasalreadyagreatcitywithpalacesandtemplesandlearnedmen.”

Hepaused foramomentas ifheexpectedDigory tosaysomething.ButDigorywasdislikinghisUnclemoreeveryminute,sohesaidnothing.

“Meanwhile,”continuedUncleAndrew,“Iwaslearningagooddeal inotherways(itwouldn’tbepropertoexplainthemtoachild)aboutMagicingeneral.ThatmeantthatIcame to have a fair idea what sort of things might be in the box. By various tests Inarroweddown thepossibilities. Ihad toget toknowsome—well, somedevilishqueerpeople, and go through some very disagreeable experiences. Thatwaswhat turnedmyheadgray.Onedoesn’tbecomeamagicianfornothing.Myhealthbrokedownintheend.ButIgotbetter.AndatlastIactuallyknew.”

Althoughtherewasnotreallytheleastchanceofanyoneoverhearingthem,heleanedforwardandalmostwhisperedashesaid:

“The Atlantean box contained something that had been brought from another worldwhenourworldwasonlyjustbeginning.”

“What?”askedDigory,whowasnowinterestedinspiteofhimself.

“Onlydust,”saidUncleAndrew.“Fine,drydust.Nothingmuchtolookat.Notmuchtoshowforalifetimeoftoil,youmightsay.Ah,butwhenIlookedatthatdust(Itookjollygoodcarenottotouchit)andthoughtthateverygrainhadoncebeeninanotherworld—Idon’tmeananotherplanet,youknow;they’repartofourworldandyoucouldgettothemifyouwentfarenough—butareallyOtherWorld—anotherNature—anotheruniverse—somewhereyouwouldneverreachevenifyoutraveledthroughthespaceofthisuniverseforever and ever—a world that could be reached only by Magic—well!” Here UncleAndrewrubbedhishandstillhisknucklescrackedlikefireworks.

“Iknew,”hewenton,“thatifonlyyoucouldgetitintotherightform,thatdustwoulddrawyoubacktotheplaceithadcomefrom.Butthedifficultywastogetitintotherightform.Myearlierexperimentswereallfailures.Itriedthemonguinea-pigs.Someofthemonlydied.Someexplodedlikelittlebombs—”

“Itwas a jolly cruel thing todo,” saidDigorywhohadoncehadaguinea-pigofhisown.

“How do you keep getting off the point!” said Uncle Andrew. “That’s what thecreatureswerefor.I’dboughtthemmyself.Letmesee—wherewasI?Ahyes.AtlastIsucceeded inmaking the rings: theyellow rings.Butnowanewdifficulty arose. Iwasprettysure,now,thatayellowringwouldsendanycreaturethattoucheditintotheOtherPlace.ButwhatwouldbethegoodofthatifIcouldn’tgetthembacktotellmewhatthey

hadfoundthere?”

“Andwhat about them?” saidDigory. “Anicemess they’dbe in if they couldn’t getback!”

“Youwill keep on looking at everything from thewrong point of view,” saidUncleAndrew with a look of impatience. “Can’t you understand that the thing is a greatexperiment?ThewholepointofsendinganyoneintotheOtherPlaceisthatIwanttofindoutwhatit’slike.”

“Wellwhydidn’tyougoyourselfthen?”

DigoryhadhardlyeverseenanyonelooksosurprisedandoffendedashisUncledidatthissimplequestion.“Me?Me?”heexclaimed.“Theboymustbemad!Amanatmytimeoflife,andinmystateofhealth,torisktheshockandthedangersofbeingflungsuddenlyinto a different universe? I never heard anything so preposterous in my life! Do yourealizewhatyou’resaying?ThinkwhatAnotherWorldmeans—youmightmeetanything—anything.”

“AndIsupposeyou’vesentPolly into it then,”saidDigory.Hischeekswereflamingwithangernow.“AndallIcansay,”headded,“evenifyouaremyUncle—isthatyou’vebehavedlikeacoward,sendingagirltoaplaceyou’reafraidtogotoyourself.”

“Silence,sir!”saidUncleAndrew,bringinghishanddownonthetable.“Iwillnotbetalkedtolikethatbyalittle,dirty,schoolboy.Youdon’tunderstand.Iamthegreatscholar,themagician,theadept,whoisdoingtheexperiment.OfcourseIneedsubjectstodoiton.Bless my soul, you’ll be telling me next that I ought to have asked the guinea-pigs’permissionbeforeIusedthem!Nogreatwisdomcanbereachedwithoutsacrifice.Buttheidea ofmy goingmyself is ridiculous. It’s like asking a general to fight as a commonsoldier.SupposingIgotkilled,whatwouldbecomeofmylife’swork?”

“Oh,dostopjawing,”saidDigory.“AreyougoingtobringPollyback?”

“Iwasgoingtotellyou,whenyousorudelyinterruptedme,”saidUncleAndrew,“thatIdidatlastfindoutawayofdoingthereturnjourney.Thegreenringsdrawyouback.”

“ButPollyhasn’tgotagreenring.”

“No,”saidUncleAndrewwithacruelsmile.

“Then she can’t get back,” shouted Digory. “And it’s exactly the same as if you’dmurderedher.”

“Shecangetback,”saidUncleAndrew,“ifsomeoneelsewillgoafterher,wearingayellowringhimselfandtakingtwogreenrings,onetobringhimselfbackandonetobringherback.”

AndnowofcourseDigorysawthetrapinwhichhewascaught:andhestaredatUncleAndrew,sayingnothing,withhismouthwideopen.Hischeekshadgoneverypale.

“Ihope,” saidUncleAndrewpresently inaveryhighandmightyvoice, justas ifhewereaperfectUnclewhohadgivenoneahandsometipandsomegoodadvice,“Ihope,Digory,youarenotgiventoshowingthewhitefeather.Ishouldbeverysorrytothinkthatanyoneofourfamilyhadnotenoughhonorandchivalrytogototheaidof—er—aladyindistress.”

“Ohshutup!”saidDigory.“Ifyouhadanyhonorandallthat,you’dbegoingyourself.ButIknowyouwon’t.Allright.IseeI’vegottogo.Butyouareabeast.Isupposeyouplannedthewholething,sothatshe’dgowithoutknowingitandthenI’dhavetogoafterher.”

“Ofcourse,”saidUncleAndrewwithhishatefulsmile.

“Verywell.I’llgo.Butthere’sonethingIjollywellmeantosayfirst.Ididn’tbelieveinMagictilltoday.Iseenowit’sreal.Wellifitis,Isupposealltheoldfairytalesaremoreorlesstrue.Andyou’resimplyawicked,cruelmagicianliketheonesinthestories.Well,I’veneverreadastoryinwhichpeopleofthatsortweren’tpaidoutintheend,andIbetyouwillbe.Andserveyouright.”

OfallthethingsDigoryhadsaidthiswasthefirstthatreallywenthome.UncleAndrewstartedandtherecameoverhisfacealookofsuchhorrorthat,beastthoughhewas,youcouldalmostfeelsorryforhim.Butasecondlaterhesmootheditallawayandsaidwitharather forced laugh, “Well,well, I suppose that is a natural thing for a child to think—broughtupamongwomen,asyouhavebeen.Oldwives’tales,eh?Idon’tthinkyouneedworryaboutmydanger,Digory.Wouldn’t itbebetter toworryabout thedangerofyour

little friend?She’s beengone some time. If there are anydangersOverThere—well, itwouldbeapitytoarriveamomenttoolate.”

“Alotyoucare,”saidDigoryfiercely.“ButI’msickofthisjaw.WhathaveIgottodo?”

“You reallymust learn to control that temper of yours,myboy,” saidUncleAndrewcoolly.“Otherwiseyou’llgrowuptobejustlikeyourAuntLetty.Now.Attendtome.”

Hegotup,putonapairofgloves,andwalkedovertothetraythatcontainedtherings.

“Theyonlywork,”hesaid,“if they’reactually touchingyour skin.Wearinggloves, Ican pick them up—like this—and nothing happens. If you carried one in your pocketnothingwouldhappen:butofcourseyou’dhavetobecarefulnottoputyourhandinyourpocketandtouchitbyaccident.Themomentyoutouchayellowring,youvanishoutofthisworld.Whenyouare in theOtherPlace Iexpect—ofcourse thishasn’tbeen testedyet,but Iexpect—that themomentyou touchagreen ringyouvanishoutof thatworldand—Iexpect—reappear in this.Now. I take these twogreensanddrop them intoyourright-handpocket.Rememberverycarefullywhichpocketthegreensarein.GforgreenandRforright.G.R.yousee:whicharethefirsttwolettersofgreen.Oneforyouandoneforthelittlegirl.Andnowyoupickupayellowoneforyourself.Ishouldputiton—onyourfinger—ifIwereyou.There’llbelesschanceofdroppingit.”

Digoryhadalmostpickeduptheyellowringwhenhesuddenlycheckedhimself.

“Lookhere,”hesaid.“WhataboutMother?SupposingsheaskswhereIam?”

“Thesooneryougo,thesooneryou’llbeback,”saidUncleAndrewcheerfully.

“Butyoudon’treallyknowwhetherIcangetback.”

UncleAndrewshruggedhisshoulders,walkedacrosstothedoor,unlockedit,threwitopen,andsaid:

“Ohverywellthen.Justasyouplease.Godownandhaveyourdinner.LeavethelittlegirltobeeatenbywildanimalsordrownedorstarvedintheOtherworldorlostthereforgood, if that’swhat youprefer. It’s all one tome.Perhaps before tea timeyou’d betterdrop inonMrs.Plummer and explain that she’ll never seeherdaughter again; becauseyouwereafraidtoputonaring.”

“Bygum,”saidDigory,“don’tIjustwishIwasbigenoughtopunchyourhead!”

Then he buttoned up his coat, took a deep breath, and picked up the ring. And hethought then, ashe always thought afterward too, that he couldnot decentlyhavedoneanythingelse.

ThreeTHEWOODBETWEENTHEWORLDSUNCLE ANDREW AND HIS STUDY VANISHED instantly. Then, for a moment,everythingbecamemuddled.ThenextthingDigoryknewwasthattherewasasoftgreenlightcomingdownonhimfromabove,anddarknessbelow.Hedidn’tseemtobestandingonanything,orsitting,orlying.Nothingappearedtobetouchinghim.“IbelieveI’minwater,” saidDigory. “Orunderwater.” This frightened him for a second, but almost atoncehecouldfeelthathewasrushingupward.Thenhisheadsuddenlycameoutintotheairandhefoundhimselfscramblingashore,outontosmoothgrassygroundattheedgeofapool.

Asherosetohisfeethenoticedthathewasneitherdrippingnorpantingforbreathasanyone would expect after being under water. His clothes were perfectly dry. He wasstanding by the edge of a small pool—not more than ten feet from side to side—in awood.Thetreesgrewclosetogetherandweresoleafythathecouldgetnoglimpseofthesky.Allthelightwasgreenlightthatcamethroughtheleaves:buttheremusthavebeenaverystrongsunoverhead,forthisgreendaylightwasbrightandwarm.Itwasthequietestwoodyou could possibly imagine.Therewere nobirds, no insects, no animals, and nowind.Youcouldalmostfeelthetreesgrowing.Thepoolhehadjustgotoutofwasnottheonlypool.Thereweredozensofothers—apooleveryfewyardsasfarashiseyescouldreach.Youcouldalmostfeel thetreesdrinkingthewaterupwiththeirroots.Thiswoodwasverymuchalive.WhenhetriedtodescribeitafterwardDigoryalwayssaid,“Itwasarichplace:asrichasplumcake.”

Thestrangestthingwasthat,almostbeforehehadlookedabouthim,Digoryhadhalfforgottenhowhehadcomethere.Atanyrate,hewascertainlynotthinkingaboutPolly,orUncle Andrew, or even his Mother. He was not in the least frightened, or excited, orcurious.Ifanyonehadaskedhim“Wheredidyoucomefrom?”hewouldprobablyhavesaid,“I’vealwaysbeenhere.”Thatwaswhatitfeltlike—asifonehadalwaysbeeninthatplace and never been bored although nothing had ever happened. As he said longafterward,“It’snotthesortofplacewherethingshappen.Thetreesgoongrowing,that’sall.”

AfterDigoryhad lookedat thewood fora long timehenoticed that therewasagirllyingonherbackatthefootofatreeafewyardsaway.Hereyeswerenearlyshutbutnotquite,asifshewerejustbetweensleepingandwaking.Sohelookedatherforalongtimeandsaidnothing.Andatlastsheopenedhereyesandlookedathimforalongtimeandshealsosaidnothing.Thenshespoke,inadreamy,contentedsortofvoice.

“IthinkI’veseenyoubefore,”shesaid.

“Iratherthinksotoo,”saidDigory.“Haveyoubeenherelong?”

“Oh,always,”saidthegirl.“Atleast—Idon’tknow—averylongtime.”

“SohaveI,”saidDigory.

“Noyouhaven’t,”saidshe.“I’vejustseenyoucomeupoutofthatpool.”

“Yes,IsupposeIdid,”saidDigorywithapuzzledair.“I’dforgotten.”

Thenforquitealongtimeneithersaidanymore.

“Lookhere,”saidthegirlpresently,“Iwonderdidweeverreallymeetbefore?Ihadasortofidea—asortofpictureinmyhead—ofaboyandagirl,likeus—livingsomewherequitedifferent—anddoingallsortsofthings.Perhapsitwasonlyadream.”

“I’vehadthatsamedream,Ithink,”saidDigory.“Aboutaboyandagirl, livingnextdoor—andsomethingaboutcrawlingamongrafters.Irememberthegirlhadadirtyface.”

“Aren’tyougettingitmixed?Inmydreamitwastheboywhohadthedirtyface.”

“Ican’tremembertheboy’sface,”saidDigory:andthenadded,“Hullo!What’sthat?”

“Why!it’saguinea-pig,”saidthegirl.Anditwas—afatguinea-pig,nosingaboutinthegrass.But round themiddleof theguinea-pig there rana tape, and, tiedon to itby thetape,wasabrightyellowring.

“Look!look,”criedDigory.“Thering!Andlook!You’vegotoneonyourfinger.AndsohaveI.”

Thegirlnowsatup,reallyinterestedatlast.Theystaredveryhardatoneanother,tryingtoremember.Andthen,atexactlythesamemoment,sheshoutedout“Mr.Ketterley”andheshoutedout“UncleAndrew,”and theyknewwho theywereandbegan to rememberthe whole story. After a few minutes of hard talking they had got it straight. DigoryexplainedhowbeastlyUncleAndrewhadbeen.

“Whatdowedonow?”saidPolly.“Taketheguinea-pigandgohome?”

“There’snohurry,”saidDigorywithahugeyawn.

“Ithinkthereis,”saidPolly.“Thisplaceistooquiet.It’sso—sodreamy.You’realmostasleep.Ifweoncegiveintoitweshalljustliedownanddrowseforeverandever.”

“It’sverynicehere,”saidDigory.

“Yes,itis,”saidPolly.

“But we’ve got to get back.” She stood up and began to go cautiously toward theguinea-pig.Butthenshechangedhermind.

“Wemightaswellleavetheguinea-pig,”shesaid.“It’sperfectlyhappyhere,andyourunclewillonlydosomethinghorridtoitifwetakeithome.”

“Ibethewould,”answeredDigory.“Lookatthewayhe’streatedus.Bytheway,howdowegethome?”

“Gobackintothepool,Iexpect.”

Theycameandstoodtogetherattheedgelookingdownintothesmoothwater.Itwasfullofthereflectionofthegreen,leafybranches;theymadeitlookverydeep.

“Wehaven’tanybathingthings,”saidPolly.

“Weshan’tneedthem,silly,”saidDigory.“We’regoinginwithourclotheson.Don’tyourememberitdidn’twetusonthewayup?”

“Canyouswim?”

“Abit.Canyou?”

“Well—notmuch.”

“Idon’tthinkweshallneedtoswim,”saidDigory.“Wewanttogodown,don’twe?”

Neitherofthemmuchlikedtheideaofjumpingintothatpool,butneithersaidsototheother. They took hands and said “One—Two—Three—Go” and jumped. There was agreatsplashandofcoursetheyclosedtheireyes.Butwhentheyopenedthemagaintheyfound theywerestill standing,hand inhand, in thatgreenwood,andhardlyup to theirankles inwater. The poolwas apparently only a couple of inches deep. They splashedbackontothedryground.

“What on earth’s gone wrong?” said Polly in a frightened voice; but not quite sofrightenedasyoumightexpect,becauseit ishard tofeelreallyfrightenedin thatwood.Theplaceistoopeaceful.

“Oh! Iknow,” saidDigory.“Ofcourse itwon’twork.We’re stillwearingouryellowrings. They’re for the outward journey, you know. The green ones take you home.Wemustchangerings.Haveyougotpockets?Good.Putyouryellowringinyour left. I’vegottwogreens.Here’soneforyou.”

Theyputontheirgreenringsandcamebacktothepool.ButbeforetheytriedanotherjumpDigorygavealong“O-o-oh!”

“What’sthematter?”saidPolly.

“I’vejusthadareallywonderfulidea,”saidDigory.“Whatarealltheotherpools?”

“Howdoyoumean?”

“Why,ifwecangetbacktoourownworldbyjumpingintothispool,mightn’twegetsomewhereelseby jumping intooneof theothers?Supposing therewasaworldat thebottomofeverypool.”

“ButIthoughtwewerealreadyinyourUncleAndrew’sOtherWorldorOtherPlaceorwhateverhecalledit.Didn’tyousay—”

“Oh bother Uncle Andrew,” interrupted Digory. “I don’t believe he knows anythingaboutit.Heneverhadtheplucktocomeherehimself.HeonlytalkedofoneOtherWorld.Butsupposethereweredozens?”

“Youmean,thiswoodmightbeonlyoneofthem?”

“No, I don’t believe thiswood is aworld at all. I think it’s just a sort of in-betweenplace.”

Pollylookedpuzzled.“Don’tyousee?”saidDigory.“No,dolisten.Thinkofourtunnelundertheslatesathome.Itisn’taroominanyofthehouses.Inaway,itisn’treallypartofanyofthehouses.Butonceyou’reinthetunnelyoucangoalongitandcomeoutintoanyofthehousesintherow.Mightn’tthiswoodbethesame?—aplacethatisn’tinanyoftheworlds,butonceyou’vefoundthatplaceyoucangetintothemall.”

“Well,evenifyoucan—”beganPolly,butDigorywentonasifhehadn’theardher.

“Andofcoursethatexplainseverything,”hesaid.“That’swhyitissoquietandsleepyhere.Nothingeverhappenshere.Likeathome.It’sinthehousesthatpeopletalk,anddothings,andhavemeals.Nothinggoeson in the in-betweenplaces,behind thewallsandabovetheceilingsandunderthefloor,orinourowntunnel.Butwhenyoucomeoutofour tunnelyoumayfindyourself inanyhouse. I thinkwecangetoutof thisplace intojollywellAnywhere!Wedon’tneedtojumpbackintothesamepoolwecameupby.Ornotjustyet.”

“TheWoodbetweentheWorlds,”saidPollydreamily.“Itsoundsrathernice.”

“Comeon,”saidDigory.“Whichpoolshallwetry?”

“Lookhere,”saidPolly,“I’mnotgoingtotryanynewpooltillwe’vemadesurethatwecangetbackbytheoldone.We’renotevensureifit’llworkyet.”

“Yes,”saidDigory.“AndgetcaughtbyUncleAndrewandhaveourringstakenawaybeforewe’vehadanyfun.Nothanks.”

“Couldn’twejustgopartofthewaydownintoourownpool,”saidPolly.“Justtoseeifitworks.Thenifitdoes,we’llchangeringsandcomeupagainbeforewe’rereallybackinMr.Ketterley’sstudy.”

“Canwegopartofthewaydown?”

“Well,ittooktimecomingup.Isupposeit’lltakealittletimegoingback.”

Digorymaderatherafussaboutagreeingtothis,buthehadtointheendbecausePollyabsolutely refused to do any exploring in new worlds until she had made sure aboutgettingbacktotheoldone.Shewasquiteasbraveasheaboutsomedangers(wasps,forinstance) but shewas not so interested in finding out things nobody had ever heard ofbefore; forDigorywas the sort of personwhowants toknoweverything, andwhenhegrewuphebecamethefamousProfessorKirkewhocomesintootherbooks.

Afteragooddealofarguingtheyagreedtoputontheirgreenrings(“Greenforsafety,”saidDigory,“soyoucan’thelprememberingwhichiswhich”)andholdhandsandjump.ButassoonastheyseemedtobegettingbacktoUncleAndrew’sstudy,oreventotheirownworld,Pollywastoshout“Change”andtheywouldslipofftheirgreensandputontheir yellows. Digorywanted to be the onewho shouted “Change” but Pollywouldn’tagree.

Theyputonthegreenrings,tookhands,andoncemoreshouted,“One—Two—Three—Go.” This time it worked. It is very hard to tell you what it felt like, for everythinghappenedsoquickly.Atfirsttherewerebrightlightsmovingaboutinablacksky;Digoryalways thinks these were stars and even swears that he saw Jupiter quite close—closeenough to see its moon. But almost at once there were rows and rows of roofs andchimneypots about them,and theycould seeSt.Paul’s andknew theywere lookingatLondon.Butyoucouldseethroughthewallsofallthehouses.ThentheycouldseeUncleAndrew,veryvagueandshadowy,butgettingclearerandmoresolid-lookingallthetime,just as if he were coming into focus. But before he became quite real Polly shouted“Change,” and theydid change, andourworld faded away like a dream, and thegreenlight above grew stronger and stronger, till their heads came out of the pool and theyscrambledashore.Andtherewasthewoodallaboutthem,asgreenandbrightandstillas

ever.Thewholethinghadtakenlessthanaminute.

“There!”saidDigory.“That’sallright.Nowfortheadventure.Anypoolwilldo.Comeon.Let’strythatone.”

“Stop!”saidPolly.“Aren’twegoingtomarkthispool?”

TheystaredateachotherandturnedquitewhiteastheyrealizedthedreadfulthingthatDigoryhadjustbeengoingtodo.Fortherewereanynumberofpoolsinthewood,andthepoolswereallalikeandthetreeswereallalike,sothatiftheyhadonceleftbehindthepoolthatledtoourownworldwithoutmakingsomesortoflandmark,thechanceswouldhavebeenahundredtooneagainsttheireverfindingitagain.

Digory’shandwasshakingasheopenedhispenknifeandcutoutalongstripofturfonthe bank of the pool. The soil (which smelled nice) was of a rich reddish brown andshowedupwellagainstthegreen.“It’sagoodthingoneofushassomesense,”saidPolly.

“Welldon’tkeepongassingaboutit,”saidDigory.“Comealong,Iwanttoseewhat’sin one of the other pools.” And Polly gave him a pretty sharp answer and he saidsomethingevennastierinreply.Thequarrellastedforseveralminutesbutitwouldbedulltowriteitalldown.Letusskipontothemomentatwhichtheystoodwithbeatingheartsandratherscaredfacesontheedgeof theunknownpoolwith theiryellowringsonandheldhandsandoncemoresaid“One—Two—Three—Go!”

Splash! Once again it hadn’t worked. This pool, too, appeared to be only a puddle.Insteadofreachinganewworldtheyonlygottheirfeetwetandsplashedtheirlegsforthesecondtimethatmorning(ifitwasamorning:itseemstobealwaysthesametimeintheWoodbetweentheWorlds).

“Blastandbotheration!”exclaimedDigory.“What’sgonewrongnow?We’veputouryellowringsonallright.Hesaidyellowfortheoutwardjourney.”

NowthetruthwasthatUncleAndrew,whoknewnothingabouttheWoodbetweentheWorlds,hadquiteawrongideaabouttherings.Theyellowonesweren’t“outward”ringsand the greenonesweren’t “homeward” rings; at least, not in thewayhe thought.Thestuffofwhichbothweremadehadallcomefromthewood.Thestuffintheyellowringshad thepowerofdrawingyou into thewood; itwasstuff thatwanted togetback to itsownplace,thein-betweenplace.Butthestuffinthegreenringsisstuffthatistryingtogetoutof itsownplace:so thatagreenringwould takeyououtof thewood intoaworld.Uncle Andrew, you see, was working with things he did not really understand; mostmagicians are.Of courseDigorydidnot realize the truthquite clearly either, ornot tilllater.Butwhen theyhad talked itover, theydecided to try theirgreenringson thenewpool,justtoseewhathappened.

“I’mgameifyouare,”saidPolly.Butshereallysaidthisbecause,inherheartofhearts,shenowfeltsurethatneitherkindofringwasgoingtoworkatallinthenewpool,andsothere was nothing worse to be afraid of than another splash. I am not quite sure thatDigoryhadnotthesamefeeling.Atanyrate,whentheyhadbothputontheirgreensandcomebacktotheedgeofthewater,andtakenhandsagain,theywerecertainlyagooddealmorecheerfulandlesssolemnthantheyhadbeenthefirsttime.

“One—Two—Three—Go!”saidDigory.Andtheyjumped.

FourTHEBELLANDTHEHAMMERTHERE WAS NO DOUBT ABOUT THE Magic this time. Down and down theyrushed, first through darkness and then through a mass of vague and whirling shapeswhichmighthavebeenalmostanything.Itgrewlighter.Thensuddenlytheyfeltthattheywerestandingonsomethingsolid.Amoment latereverythingcame into focusand theywereabletolookaboutthem.

“Whataqueerplace!”saidDigory.

“Idon’tlikeit,”saidPollywithsomethinglikeashudder.

Whattheynoticedfirstwasthelight.Itwasn’tlikesunlight,anditwasn’tlikeelectriclight,orlamps,orcandles,oranyotherlighttheyhadeverseen.Itwasadull,ratherredlight,notatallcheerful. Itwassteadyanddidnot flicker.Theywerestandingona flatpavedsurfaceandbuildingsroseallaroundthem.Therewasnoroofoverhead;theywerein a sort of courtyard.The skywas extraordinarilydark—ablue thatwas almost black.Whenyouhadseenthatskyyouwonderedthatthereshouldbeanylightatall.

“It’sveryfunnyweatherhere,”saidDigory.“Iwonderifwe’vearrivedjustintimeforathunderstorm;oraneclipse.”

“Idon’tlikeit,”saidPolly.

Bothofthem,withoutquiteknowingwhy,weretalkinginwhispers.Andthoughtherewasnoreasonwhytheyshouldstillgoonholdinghandsaftertheirjump,theydidn’tletgo.

Thewalls rose very high all round that courtyard. They hadmany greatwindows inthem,windowswithoutglass,throughwhichyousawnothingbutblackdarkness.Lowerdownthereweregreatpillaredarches,yawningblacklylikethemouthsofrailwaytunnels.Itwasrathercold.

The stone of which everything was built seemed to be red, but that might only bebecauseofthecuriouslight.Itwasobviouslyveryold.Manyoftheflatstonesthatpavedthecourtyardhadcracksacrossthem.Noneofthemfittedcloselytogetherandthesharpcornerswereallwornoff.Oneofthearcheddoorwayswashalffilledupwithrubble.Thetwo children kept on turning round and round to look at the different sides of thecourtyard.One reasonwas that theywere afraid of somebody—or something—lookingoutofthosewindowsatthemwhentheirbackswereturned.

“Doyouthinkanyoneliveshere?”saidDigoryatlast,stillinawhisper.

“No,”saidPolly.“It’sallinruins.Wehaven’theardasoundsincewecame.”

“Let’sstandstillandlistenforabit,”suggestedDigory.

Theystoodstillandlistened,butalltheycouldhearwasthethump-thumpoftheirownhearts. This placewas at least as quiet as theWood between theWorlds. But it was adifferentkindofquietness.ThesilenceoftheWoodhadbeenrichandwarm(youcouldalmosthearthetreesgrowing)andfulloflife:thiswasadead,cold,emptysilence.Youcouldn’timagineanythinggrowinginit.

“Let’sgohome,”saidPolly.

“Butwe haven’t seen anything yet,” saidDigory. “Nowwe’re here,we simplymusthavealookround.”

“I’msurethere’snothingatallinterestinghere.”

“There’snotmuchpointinfindingamagicringthatletsyouintootherworldsifyou’reafraidtolookatthemwhenyou’vegotthere.”

“Who’stalkingaboutbeingafraid?”saidPolly,lettinggoofDigory’shand.

“Ionlythoughtyoudidn’tseemverykeenonexploringthisplace.”

“I’llgoanywhereyougo.”

“Wecangetawaythemomentwewantto,”saidDigory.“Let’stakeoffourgreenringsand put them in our right-hand pockets. All we’ve got to do is to remember that ouryellowareinourleft-handpockets.Youcankeepyourhandasnearyourpocketasyoulike,butdon’tputitinoryou’lltouchyouryellowandvanish.”

Theydidthisandwentquietlyuptooneofthebigarcheddoorwayswhichledintothe

insideofthebuilding.Andwhentheystoodonthethresholdandcouldlookin,theysawitwasnotsodarkinsideastheyhadthoughtatfirst.Itledintoavast,shadowyhallwhichappearedtobeempty;butonthefarsidetherewasarowofpillarswitharchesbetweenthem and through those arches there streamed in somemore of the same tired-lookinglight. They crossed the hall, walking very carefully for fear of holes in the floor or ofanything lying about that theymight trip over. It seemed a longwalk.When they hadreachedtheothersidetheycameoutthroughthearchesandfoundthemselvesinanotherandlargercourtyard.

“That doesn’t look very safe,” said Polly, pointing at a placewhere thewall bulgedoutwardandlookedasifitwerereadytofalloverintothecourtyard.Inoneplaceapillarwasmissingbetweentwoarchesandthebitthatcamedowntowherethetopofthepillarought to have been hung there with nothing to support it. Clearly, the place had beendesertedforhundreds,perhapsthousands,ofyears.

“If it’s lasted tillnow, I suppose it’ll lastabit longer,”saidDigory.“Butwemustbevery quiet.You know a noise sometimes brings things down—like an avalanche in theAlps.”

Theywentonoutofthatcourtyardintoanotherdoorway,andupagreatflightofstepsandthroughvastroomsthatopenedoutofoneanothertillyouweredizzywiththemeresizeof theplace.Everynowand then they thought theyweregoing toget out into theopen and seewhat sort of country lay around the enormouspalace.But each time theyonly got into another courtyard. Theymust have beenmagnificent placeswhen peoplewerestilllivingthere.Inonetherehadoncebeenafountain.Agreatstonemonsterwithwide-spreadwingsstoodwithitsmouthopenandyoucouldstillseeabitofpipingatthebackofitsmouth,outofwhichthewaterusedtopour.Underitwasawidestonebasintohold thewater;but itwasasdryasabone. Inotherplaces therewere thedrysticksofsomesortofclimbingplantwhichhadwound itself round thepillarsandhelped topullsomeofthemdown.Butithaddiedlongago.Andtherewerenoantsorspidersoranyofthe other living things you expect to see in a ruin; and where the dry earth showedbetweenthebrokenflagstonestherewasnograssormoss.

ItwasallsodrearyandallsomuchthesamethatevenDigorywasthinkingtheyhadbetterputon theiryellowringsandgetbackto thewarm,green, livingforestof theIn-betweenplace,whentheycametotwohugedoorsofsomemetalthatmightpossiblybegold.Onestoodalittleajar.Soofcoursetheywenttolookin.Bothstartedbackanddrewalongbreath:forhereatlastwassomethingworthseeing.

Forasecondtheythoughttheroomwasfullofpeople—hundredsofpeople,allseated,andallperfectlystill.PollyandDigory,asyoumayguess,stoodperfectlystillthemselvesforagoodlongtime,lookingin.Butpresentlytheydecidedthatwhattheywerelookingatcould not be real people. Therewas not amovement nor the sound of a breath amongthemall.Theywerelikethemostwonderfulwaxworksyoueversaw.

ThistimePollytookthelead.Therewassomethinginthisroomwhichinterestedhermore than it interestedDigory: all the figureswerewearingmagnificent clothes. If youwereinterestedinclothesatall,youcouldhardlyhelpgoingintoseethemcloser.Andtheblazeof theircolorsmade this room look,notexactlycheerful,butatany rate richandmajesticafterallthedustandemptinessoftheothers.Ithadmorewindows,too,andwasagooddeallighter.

Icanhardlydescribe theclothes.Thefigureswereall robedandhadcrownson theirheads.Theirrobeswereofcrimsonandsilverygrayanddeeppurpleandvividgreen:andtherewere patterns, and pictures of flowers and strange beasts, in needlework all overthem. Precious stones of astonishing size and brightness stared from their crowns andhunginchainsroundtheirnecksandpeepedoutfromalltheplaceswhereanythingwasfastened.

“Whyhaven’ttheseclothesallrottedawaylongago?”askedPolly.

“Magic,”whisperedDigory.“Can’tyoufeelit?Ibetthiswholeroomisjuststiffwithenchantments.Icouldfeelitthemomentwecamein.”

“Anyoneofthesedresseswouldcosthundredsofpounds,”saidPolly.

ButDigorywasmoreinterestedinthefaces,andindeedthesewerewellworthlookingat.Thepeoplesatintheirstonechairsoneachsideoftheroomandthefloorwasleftfreedownthemiddle.Youcouldwalkdownandlookatthefacesinturn.

“Theywerenicepeople,Ithink,”saidDigory.

Polly nodded. All the faces they could see were certainly nice. Both the men andwomenlookedkindandwise,andtheyseemedtocomeofahandsomerace.Butafterthechildren had gone a few steps down the room they came to faces that looked a littledifferent.Thesewereverysolemnfaces.Youfeltyouwouldhave tomindyourP’sandQ’s, if you ever met living people who looked like that.When they had gone a littlefurther,theyfoundthemselvesamongfacestheydidn’tlike:thiswasaboutthemiddleoftheroom.Thefacesherelookedverystrongandproudandhappy,buttheylookedcruel.Alittlefurtherontheylookedcrueller.Furtheronagain,theywerestillcruelbuttheynolongerlookedhappy.Theywereevendespairingfaces:asifthepeopletheybelongedtohaddonedreadfulthingsandalsosuffereddreadfulthings.Thelastfigureofallwasthemostinteresting—awomanevenmorerichlydressedthantheothers,verytall(buteveryfigureinthatroomwastallerthanthepeopleofourworld),withalookofsuchfiercenessandpridethatittookyourbreathaway.Yetshewasbeautifultoo.Yearsafterwardwhenhewasanoldman,Digorysaidhehadneverinallhislifeknownawomansobeautiful.Itis only fair to add that Polly always said she couldn’t see anything specially beautifulabouther.

Thiswoman,asIsaid,wasthelast:buttherewereplentyofemptychairsbeyondher,asiftheroomhadbeenintendedforamuchlargercollectionofimages.

“Idowishweknew thestory that’sbehindall this,” saidDigory.“Let’sgobackandlookatthattablesortofthinginthemiddleoftheroom.”

Thethinginthemiddleoftheroomwasnotexactlyatable.Itwasasquarepillaraboutfourfeethighandonitthererosealittlegoldenarchfromwhichtherehungalittlegolden

bell;andbesidethistherelayalittlegoldenhammertohitthebellwith.

“Iwonder…Iwonder…Iwonder…”saidDigory.

“Thereseemstobesomethingwrittenhere,”saidPolly,stoopingdownandlookingatthesideofthepillar.

“Bygum,sothereis,”saidDigory.“Butofcourseweshan’tbeabletoreadit.”

“Shan’twe?I’mnotsosure,”saidPolly.

Theybothlookedatithardand,asyoumighthaveexpected,theletterscutinthestonewerestrange.Butnowagreatwonderhappened:for,astheylooked,thoughtheshapeofthe strange letters never altered, they found that they could understand them. If onlyDigory had rememberedwhat he himself had said a fewminutes ago, that thiswas anenchantedroom,hemighthaveguessedthattheenchantmentwasbeginningtowork.Buthewastoowildwithcuriositytothinkaboutthat.Hewaslongingmoreandmoretoknowwhatwaswrittenonthepillar.Andverysoontheybothknew.Whatitsaidwassomethinglike this—at least this is the sense of it though the poetry,whenyou read it there,wasbetter:

Makeyourchoice,adventurousStranger;Strikethebellandbidethedanger,Orwonder,tillitdrivesyoumad,Whatwouldhavefollowedifyouhad.

“Nofear!”saidPolly.“Wedon’twantanydanger.”

“Ohbutdon’tyouseeit’snogood!”saidDigory.“Wecan’tgetoutofitnow.Weshallalwaysbewonderingwhatelsewouldhavehappened ifwehadstruck thebell. I’mnotgoinghometobedrivenmadbyalwaysthinkingofthat.Nofear!”

“Don’tbesosilly,”saidPolly.“Asifanyonewould!Whatdoesitmatterwhatwouldhavehappened?”

“Iexpectanyonewho’scomeasfarasthisisboundtogoonwonderingtillitsendshimdotty.That’stheMagicofit,yousee.Icanfeelitbeginningtoworkonmealready.”

“Well I don’t,” said Polly crossly. “And I don’t believe you do either. You’re justputtingiton.”

“That’sallyouknow,”saidDigory.“It’sbecauseyou’reagirl.Girlsneverwanttoknowanythingbutgossipandrotaboutpeoplegettingengaged.”

“YoulookedexactlylikeyourUnclewhenyousaidthat,”saidPolly.

“Whycan’tyoukeeptothepoint?”saidDigory.“Whatwe’retalkingaboutis—”

“Howexactlylikeaman!”saidPollyinaverygrown-upvoice;butsheaddedhastily,inherrealvoice,“Anddon’tsayI’mjustlikeawoman,oryou’llbeabeastlycopy-cat.”

“Ishouldneverdreamofcallingakidlikeyouawoman,”saidDigoryloftily.

“Oh, I’makid,amI?”saidPollywhowasnow ina real rage.“Wellyouneedn’tbebotheredbyhavingakidwithyouanylongerthen.I’moff.I’vehadenoughofthisplace.

AndI’vehadenoughofyoutoo—youbeastly,stuck-up,obstinatepig!”

“Noneofthat!”saidDigoryinavoiceevennastierthanhemeantittobe;forhesawPolly’shandmovingtoherpockettogetholdofheryellowring.Ican’texcusewhathedid next except by saying that hewas very sorry for it afterward (and sowere a goodmanyotherpeople).BeforePolly’shandreachedherpocket,hegrabbedherwrist,leaningacrossherwithhis back against her chest.Then, keepingherother armoutof thewaywithhisotherelbow,heleanedforward,pickedupthehammer,andstruckthegoldenbellalight,smarttap.Thenhelethergoandtheyfellapartstaringateachotherandbreathinghard.Pollywasjustbeginningtocry,notwithfear,andnotevenbecausehehadhurtherwrist quite badly, but with furious anger. Within two seconds, however, they hadsomethingtothinkaboutthatdrovetheirownquarrelsquiteoutoftheirminds.

Assoonasthebellwasstruckitgaveoutanote,asweetnotesuchasyoumighthaveexpected,andnotveryloud.Butinsteadofdyingawayagain,itwenton;andasitwentonitgrew louder.Beforeaminutehadpassed itwas twiceas loudas ithadbeen tobeginwith.Itwassoonsoloudthatifthechildrenhadtriedtospeak(buttheyweren’tthinkingofspeakingnow—theywere juststandingwith theirmouthsopen) theywouldnothaveheardoneanother.Verysoon itwasso loud that theycouldnothaveheardoneanotherevenbyshouting.Andstillitgrew:allononenote,acontinuoussweetsound,thoughthesweetnesshadsomethinghorribleaboutit,tillalltheairinthatgreatroomwasthrobbingwithitandtheycouldfeelthestonefloortremblingundertheirfeet.Thenatlastitbegantobemixedwithanothersound,avague,disastrousnoisewhichsoundedfirstliketheroarofadistanttrain,andthenlikethecrashofafallingtree.Theyheardsomethinglikegreatweights falling. Finally,with a sudden rush and thunder, and a shake that nearly flungthemofftheirfeet,aboutaquarteroftheroofatoneendoftheroomfellin,greatblocksofmasonryfellallroundthem,andthewallsrocked.Thenoiseofthebellstopped.Thecloudsofdustclearedaway.Everythingbecamequietagain.

Itwasnever foundoutwhether thefallof theroofwasdue toMagicorwhether thatunbearablyloudsoundfromthebelljusthappenedtostrikethenotewhichwasmorethanthosecrumblingwallscouldstand.

“There!Ihopeyou’resatisfiednow,”pantedPolly.

“Well,it’sallover,anyway,”saidDigory.

Andboththoughtitwas;buttheyhadneverbeenmoremistakenintheirlives.

FiveTHEDEPLORABLEWORDTHECHILDRENWEREFACINGONEANOTHERacross thepillarwherethebellhung,still trembling, though itno longergaveoutanynote.Suddenly theyheardasoftnoisefromtheendoftheroomwhichwasstillundamaged.Theyturnedquickaslightningtoseewhatitwas.Oneoftherobedfigures,thefurthest-offoneofall,thewomanwhomDigory thought sobeautiful,was rising from itschair.Whenshestoodup they realizedthatshewaseventallerthantheyhadthought.Andyoucouldseeatonce,notonlyfromhercrownandrobes,butfromtheflashofhereyesandthecurveofherlips,thatshewasagreatqueen.Shelookedroundtheroomandsawthedamageandsawthechildren,butyou could not guess from her face what she thought of either or whether she wassurprised.Shecameforwardwithlong,swiftstrides.

“Whohasawakedme?Whohasbrokenthespell?”sheasked.

“Ithinkitmusthavebeenme,”saidDigory.

“You!”said theQueen, layingherhandonhisshoulder—awhite,beautifulhand,butDigory could feel that itwas strongas steel pincers. “You?Butyouareonly a child, acommonchild.Anyonecanseeataglancethatyouhavenodropofroyalornoblebloodinyourveins.Howdidsuchasyoudaretoenterthishouse?”

“We’vecomefromanotherworld;byMagic,”saidPolly,whothoughtitwashightimetheQueentooksomenoticeofheraswellasDigory.

“Is this true?” said the Queen, still looking at Digory and not giving Polly even aglance.

“Yes,itis,”saidhe.

TheQueenputherotherhandunderhischinandforceditupsothatshecouldseehis

face better.Digory tried to stare back but he soon had to let his eyes drop. Therewassomething about hers that overpoweredhim.After she had studied him forwell over aminute,sheletgoofhischinandsaid:

“Youarenomagician.TheMarkofitisnotonyou.Youmustbeonlytheservantofamagician.Itisonanother’sMagicthatyouhavetraveledhere.”

“ItwasmyUncleAndrew,”saidDigory.

Atthemoment,notintheroomitselfbutfromsomewhereveryclose,therecame,firstarumbling,thenacreaking,andthenaroaroffallingmasonry,andthefloorshook.

“Thereisgreatperilhere,”saidtheQueen.“Thewholepalaceisbreakingup.Ifwearenotoutofitinafewminutesweshallbeburiedundertheruin.”Shespokeascalmlyasifshehadbeenmerelymentioningthetimeofday.“Come,”sheadded,andheldoutahandtoeachofthechildren.Polly,whowasdislikingtheQueenandfeelingrathersulky,wouldnothaveletherhandbetakenifshecouldhavehelpedit.ButthoughtheQueenspokesocalmly,hermovementswereasquickasthought.BeforePollyknewwhatwashappeningherlefthandhadbeencaughtinahandsomuchlargerandstrongerthanherownthatshecoulddonothingaboutit.

“Thisisaterriblewoman,”thoughtPolly.“She’sstrongenoughtobreakmyarmwithonetwist.Andnowthatshe’sgotmylefthandIcan’tgetatmyyellowring.IfItriedtostretch across andgetmy right hand intomy left pocket Imightn’t be able to reach it,beforesheaskedmewhatIwasdoing.Whateverhappenswemustn’tletherknowabouttherings.IdohopeDigoryhasthesensetokeephismouthshut.IwishIcouldgetawordwithhimalone.”

TheQueenledthemoutoftheHallofImagesintoalongcorridorandthenthroughawholemazeof halls and stairs and courtyards.Again and again theyheardparts of thegreatpalacecollapsing,sometimesquiteclosetothem.Onceahugearchcamethunderingdownonlyamomentaftertheyhadpassedthroughit.TheQueenwaswalkingquickly—the children had to trot to keep up with her—but she showed no sign of fear. Digorythought,“She’swonderfullybrave.Andstrong.She’swhatIcallaQueen!Idohopeshe’sgoingtotellusthestoryofthisplace.”

Shedidtellthemcertainthingsastheywentalong:

“That is the door to the dungeons,” she would say, or “That passage leads to theprincipal torture chambers,” or “This was the old banqueting hall where my great-grandfatherbadesevenhundrednoblestoafeastandkilledthemallbeforetheyhaddrunktheirfill.Theyhadhadrebelliousthoughts.”

Theycameatlastintoahalllargerandloftierthananytheyhadyetseen.Fromitssizeand from the great doors at the far end, Digory thought that now at last theymust becomingtothemainentrance.Inthishewasquiteright.Thedoorsweredeadblack,eitherebonyorsomeblackmetalwhichisnotfoundinourworld.Theywerefastenedwithgreatbars,most of them too high to reach and all too heavy to lift. Hewondered how theywouldgetout.

TheQueenletgoofhishandandraisedherarm.Shedrewherselfuptoherfullheight

andstoodrigid.Thenshesaidsomethingwhichtheycouldn’tunderstand(butitsoundedhorrid)andmadeanactionasifshewerethrowingsomethingtowardthedoors.Andthosehigh and heavy doors trembled for a second as if they were made of silk and thencrumbledawaytilltherewasnothingleftofthembutaheapofdustonthethreshold.

“Whew!”whistledDigory.

“Has yourmastermagician, your uncle, power likemine?” asked the Queen, firmlyseizingDigory’shandagain.“ButIshallknowlater.Inthemeantime,rememberwhatyouhaveseen.Thisiswhathappenstothings,andtopeople,whostandinmyway.”

Muchmorelightthantheyhadyetseeninthatcountrywaspouringinthroughthenowemptydoorway,andwhentheQueenled themout throughit theywerenotsurprisedtofindthemselvesintheopenair.Thewindthatblewintheirfaceswascold,yetsomehowstale.Theywerelookingfromahighterraceandtherewasagreatlandscapespreadoutbelowthem.

Lowdownandnearthehorizonhungagreat,redsun,farbiggerthanoursun.Digoryfeltatoncethatitwasalsoolderthanours:asunneartheendofitslife,wearyoflookingdownuponthatworld.Totheleftofthesun,andhigherup,therewasasinglestar,bigandbright.Thosewere the only two things to be seen in the dark sky; theymade a dismalgroup.Andontheearth,ineverydirection,asfarastheeyecouldreach,therespreadavast city in which there was no living thing to be seen. And all the temples, towers,palaces,pyramids,andbridgescast long,disastrous-lookingshadows in the lightof thatwitheredsun.Onceagreatriverhadflowedthroughthecity,butthewaterhadlongsincevanished,anditwasnowonlyawideditchofgraydust.

“Look well on that which no eyes will ever see again,” said the Queen. “Such wasCharn,thatgreatcity,thecityoftheKingofKings,thewonderoftheworld,perhapsofallworlds.Doesyouruncleruleanycityasgreatasthis,boy?”

“No,”saidDigory.Hewasgoingtoexplain thatUncleAndrewdidn’truleanycities,buttheQueenwenton:

“It is silent now.But I have stoodherewhen thewhole airwas full of thenoises ofCharn; the tramplingof feet, the creakingofwheels, the crackingof thewhips and thegroaning of slaves, the thunder of chariots, and the sacrificial drums beating in thetemples.Ihavestoodhere(butthatwasneartheend)whentheroarofbattlewentupfromeverystreetandtheriverofCharnranred.”Shepausedandadded,“Allinonemomentonewomanblotteditoutforever.”

“Who?”saidDigoryinafaintvoice;buthehadalreadyguessedtheanswer.

“I,”saidtheQueen.“I,Jadis,thelastQueen,buttheQueenoftheWorld.”

Thetwochildrenstoodsilent,shiveringinthecoldwind.

“Itwasmysister’sfault,”saidtheQueen.“Shedrovemetoit.MaythecurseofallthePowers rest upon her forever!At anymoment Iwas ready tomake peace—yes and tospareherlifetoo,ifonlyshewouldyieldmethethrone.Butshewouldnot.Herpridehasdestroyedthewholeworld.Evenafterthewarhadbegun,therewasasolemnpromisethatneithersidewoulduseMagic.Butwhenshebrokeherpromise,whatcouldIdo?Fool!As

ifshedidnotknowthatIhadmoreMagicthanshe!SheevenknewthatIhadthesecretoftheDeplorableWord.Didshe think—shewasalwaysaweakling—that Iwouldnotuseit?”

“Whatwasit?”saidDigory.

“Thatwasthesecretofsecrets,”saidtheQueenJadis.“Ithadlongbeenknowntothegreatkingsofourracethattherewasawordwhich,ifspokenwiththeproperceremonies,woulddestroyall living thingsexcept theonewhospoke it.But theancientkingswereweak and soft-hearted and bound themselves and allwho should come after themwithgreatoathsnevereventoseekaftertheknowledgeofthatword.ButIlearneditinasecretplaceandpaidaterriblepricetolearnit.Ididnotuseituntilsheforcedmetoit.Ifoughttoovercomeherbyeveryothermeans.Ipouredoutthebloodofmyarmieslikewater—”

“Beast!”mutteredPolly.

“Thelastgreatbattle,”saidtheQueen,“ragedfor threedayshereinCharnitself.ForthreedaysIlookeddownuponitfromthisveryspot.Ididnotusemypowertillthelastofmysoldiershadfallen,andtheaccursedwoman,mysister,attheheadofherrebelswashalfwayupthosegreatstairsthatleadupfromthecitytotheterrace.ThenIwaitedtillweweresoclosethatwecouldseeoneanother’sfaces.Sheflashedherhorrible,wickedeyesupon me and said, ‘Victory.’ ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘Victory, but not yours.’ Then I spoke theDeplorableWord.AmomentlaterIwastheonlylivingthingbeneaththesun.”

“Butthepeople?”gaspedDigory.

“Whatpeople,boy?”askedtheQueen.

“All the ordinary people,” said Polly, “who’d never done you any harm. And thewomen,andthechildren,andtheanimals.”

“Don’tyouunderstand?”saidtheQueen(stillspeakingtoDigory).“IwastheQueen.Theywereallmypeople.Whatelseweretheythereforbuttodomywill?”

“Itwasratherhardluckonthem,allthesame,”saidhe.

“Ihadforgottenthatyouareonlyacommonboy.Howshouldyouunderstandreasonsof State? You must learn, child, that what would be wrong for you or for any of thecommonpeopleisnotwronginagreatQueensuchasI.Theweightoftheworldisonourshoulders.Wemustbefreedfromallrules.Oursisahighandlonelydestiny.”

DigorysuddenlyrememberedthatUncleAndrewhadusedexactlythesamewords.ButtheysoundedmuchgranderwhenQueenJadissaidthem;perhapsbecauseUncleAndrewwasnotsevenfeettallanddazzlinglybeautiful.

“Andwhatdidyoudothen?”saidDigory.

“Ihadalreadycaststrongspellsonthehallwheretheimagesofmyancestorssit.Andtheforceof thosespellswasthatIshouldsleepamongthem,likeanimagemyself,andneedneitherfoodnorfire, thoughitwereathousandyears, tillonecameandstruckthebellandawokeme.”

“WasittheDeplorableWordthatmadethesunlikethat?”askedDigory.

“Likewhat?”saidJadis.

“Sobig,sored,andsocold.”

“Ithasalwaysbeenso,”saidJadis.“Atleast,forhundredsofthousandsofyears.Haveyouadifferentsortofsuninyourworld?”

“Yes,it’ssmallerandyellower.Anditgivesagooddealmoreheat.”

TheQueen gave a long drawn “A—a—ah!”AndDigory saw on her face that samehungry and greedy look which he had lately seen on Uncle Andrew’s. “So,” she said,“yoursisayoungerworld.”

Shepausedforamomenttolookoncemoreatthedesertedcity—andifshewassorryforalltheevilshehaddonethere,shecertainlydidn’tshowit—andthensaid:

“Now,letusbegoing.Itiscoldhereattheendofalltheages.”

“Goingwhere?”askedboththechildren.

“Where?”repeatedJadisinsurprise.“Toyourworld,ofcourse.”

PollyandDigory lookedateachother,aghast.Pollyhaddisliked theQueenfromthefirst;andevenDigory,nowthathehadheardthestory,feltthathehadseenquiteasmuchofherashewanted.Certainly,shewasnotatallthesortofpersononewouldliketotakehome.Andif theydidlike, theydidn’tknowhowtheycould.What theywantedwastogetawaythemselves:butPollycouldn’tgetatherringandofcourseDigorycouldn’tgowithouther.Digorygotveryredinthefaceandstammered.

“Oh—oh—ourworld.Id-didn’tknowyouwantedtogothere.”

“Whatelsewereyousenthereforifnottofetchme?”askedJadis.

“I’msureyouwouldn’tlikeourworldatall,”saidDigory.“It’snothersortofplace,isit,Polly?It’sverydull;notworthseeing,really.”

“ItwillsoonbeworthseeingwhenIruleit,”answeredtheQueen.

“Oh,butyoucan’t,”saidDigory.“It’snotlikethat.Theywouldn’tletyou,youknow.”

TheQueen gave a contemptuous smile. “Many great kings,” she said, “thought theycould stand against the House of Charn. But they all fell, and their very names areforgotten.Foolishboy!DoyouthinkthatI,withmybeautyandmyMagic,willnothaveyourwholeworldatmyfeetbeforeayearhaspassed?Prepareyourincantationsandtakemethereatonce.”

“Thisisperfectlyfrightful,”saidDigorytoPolly.

“Perhapsyou fear for thisUncleofyours,” said Jadis. “But ifhehonorsmeduly,heshallkeephislifeandhisthrone.Iamnotcomingtofightagainsthim.HemustbeaverygreatMagician,ifhehasfoundhowtosendyouhere.IsheKingofyourwholeworldoronlyofpart?”

“Heisn’tKingofanywhere,”saidDigory.

“Youarelying,”saidtheQueen.“DoesnotMagicalwaysgowiththeroyalblood?WhoeverheardofcommonpeoplebeingMagicians?Icanseethetruthwhetheryouspeakitornot.YourUncleisthegreatKingandthegreatEnchanterofyourworld.Andbyhisarthe

hasseentheshadowofmyface,insomemagicmirrororsomeenchantedpool;andforthe love of my beauty he has made a potent spell which shook your world to itsfoundationsandsentyouacross thevastgulfbetweenworldandworld toaskmyfavorandtobringmetohim.Answerme:isthatnothowitwas?”

“Well,notexactly,”saidDigory.

“Notexactly,”shoutedPolly.“Why,it’sabsoluteboshfrombeginningtoend.”

“Minions!”criedtheQueen,turninginrageuponPollyandseizingherhair,attheverytopofherheadwhereithurtsmost.Butinsodoingsheletgoofboththechildren’shands.“Now,”shoutedDigory;and“Quick!”shoutedPolly.Theyplunged their lefthands intotheirpockets.Theydidnotevenneedtoputtheringson.Themomenttheytouchedthem,thewholeofthatdrearyworldvanishedfromtheireyes.Theywererushingupwardandawarmgreenlightwasgrowingneareroverhead.

SixTHEBEGINNINGOFUNCLEANDREW’STROUBLES“LETGO!LETGO!”SCREAMEDPOLLY.

“I’mnottouchingyou!”saidDigory.

Thentheirheadscameoutofthepooland,oncemore,thesunnyquietnessoftheWoodbetween the Worlds was all about them, and it seemed richer and warmer and morepeacefulthaneverafterthestalenessandruinoftheplacetheyhadjustleft.Ithinkthat,ifthey had been given the chance, they would again have forgotten who they were andwhere they came from andwould have lain down and enjoyed themselves, half asleep,listeningtothegrowingofthetrees.Butthistimetherewassomethingthatkeptthemaswide-awakeaspossible:forassoonas theyhadgotoutonto thegrass, theyfoundthattheywerenotalone.TheQueen,ortheWitch(whicheveryouliketocallher)hadcomeupwiththem,holdingonfastbyPolly’shair.ThatwaswhyPollyhadbeenshoutingout“Letgo!”

Thisproved,bytheway,anotherthingabouttheringswhichUncleAndrewhadn’ttoldDigorybecausehedidn’tknowithimself.Inordertojumpfromworldtoworldbyusingoneofthoseringsyoudon’tneedtobewearingortouchingityourself;itisenoughifyouare touching someone who is touching it. In that way they work like a magnet; andeveryoneknowsthatifyoupickupapinwithamagnet,anyotherpinwhichistouchingthefirstpinwillcometoo.

Nowthatyousawherinthewood,QueenJadislookeddifferent.Shewasmuchpalerthanshehadbeen;sopalethathardlyanyofherbeautywasleft.Andshewasstoopedandseemedtobefindingithardtobreathe,asiftheairofthatplacestifledher.Neitherofthechildrenfeltintheleastafraidofhernow.

“Letgo!Letgoofmyhair,”saidPolly.“Whatdoyoumeanbyit?”

“Here!Letgoofherhair.Atonce,”saidDigory.

They both turned and struggledwith her. Theywere stronger than she and in a fewsecondstheyhadforcedhertoletgo.Shereeledback,panting,andtherewasalookofterrorinhereyes.

“Quick,Digory!”saidPolly.“Changeringsandintothehomepool.”

“Help!Help!Mercy!”criedtheWitchinafaintvoice,staggeringafterthem.“Takemewithyou.Youcannotmeantoleavemeinthishorribleplace.Itiskillingme.”

“It’sareasonofState,”saidPollyspitefully.“Likewhenyoukilledallthosepeopleinyourownworld.Dobequick,Digory.”Theyhadputontheirgreenrings,butDigorysaid:

“Ohbother!Whatarewetodo?”Hecouldn’thelpfeelingalittlesorryfortheQueen.

“Ohdon’tbesuchanass,”saidPolly.“Tentooneshe’sonlyshamming.Docomeon.”

And then both children plunged into the home pool. “It’s a good thing we made thatmark,”thoughtPolly.ButastheyjumpedDigoryfelt thatalargecoldfingerandthumbhadcaughthimbytheear.Andas theysankdownandtheconfusedshapesofourownworldbegan toappear, thegripof that fingerand thumbgrewstronger.TheWitchwasapparentlyrecoveringherstrength.Digorystruggledandkicked,butitwasnotoftheleastuse.Inamoment theyfoundthemselves inUncleAndrew’sstudy;andtherewasUncleAndrew himself, staring at the wonderful creature that Digory had brought back frombeyondtheworld.

And well he might stare. Digory and Polly stared too. There was no doubt that theWitch had got over her faintness; and now that one saw her in our own world, withordinary things around her, she fairly took one’s breath away. In Charn she had beenalarmingenough:inLondon,shewasterrifying.Foronething,theyhadnotrealizedtillnowhowverybigshewas.“Hardlyhuman”waswhatDigorythoughtwhenhelookedather;andhemayhavebeenright,forsomesaythereisgiantishbloodintheroyalfamilyofCharn.Butevenherheightwasnothingcomparedwithherbeauty,herfierceness,andherwildness.ShelookedtentimesmorealivethanmostofthepeopleonemeetsinLondon.UncleAndrewwasbowingandrubbinghishandsandlooking,totellthetruth,extremelyfrightened.HeseemedalittleshrimpofacreaturebesidetheWitch.Andyet,asPollysaidafterward, there was a sort of likeness between her face and his, something in theexpression.Itwas the lookthatallwickedMagicianshave, the“Mark”whichJadishadsaidshecouldnotfindinDigory’sface.OnegoodthingaboutseeingthetwotogetherwasthatyouwouldneveragainbeafraidofUncleAndrew,anymorethanyou’dbeafraidofawormafteryouhadmetarattlesnakeorafraidofacowafteryouhadmetamadbull.

“Pooh!” thoughtDigory tohimself. “Him aMagician!Notmuch.Now she’s the realthing.”

UncleAndrewkeptonrubbinghishandsandbowing.Hewastryingtosaysomethingverypolite,buthismouthhadgonealldrysothathecouldnotspeak.His“experiment”withtherings,ashecalledit,wasturningoutmoresuccessfulthanheliked:forthoughhehaddabbled inMagicforyearshehadalways leftall thedangers(asfarasonecan) tootherpeople.Nothingatalllikethishadeverhappenedtohimbefore.

Then Jadis spoke;notvery loud,but therewas something inhervoice thatmade thewholeroomquiver.

“WhereistheMagicianwhohascalledmeintothisworld?”

“Ah—ah—Madam,”gaspedUncleAndrew,“Iammosthonored—highlygratified—amostunexpectedpleasure—ifonlyIhadhadtheopportunityofmakinganypreparations—I—I—”

“WhereistheMagician,Fool?”saidJadis.

“I—Iam,Madam.Ihopeyouwillexcuseany—er—libertythesenaughtychildrenmayhavetaken.Iassureyou,therewasnointention—”

“You?”saidtheQueeninastillmoreterriblevoice.Then,inonestride,shecrossedtheroom,seizedagreathandfulofUncleAndrew’sgrayhairandpulledhisheadbacksothathis face lookedup intohers.Thenshestudiedhis face justas shehadstudiedDigory’sfaceinthepalaceofCharn.Heblinkedandlickedhislipsnervouslyallthetime.Atlastshelethimgo:sosuddenlythathereeledbackagainstthewall.

“Isee,”shesaidscornfully,“youareaMagician—ofasort.Standup,dog,anddon’tsprawlthereasifyouwerespeakingtoyourequals.HowdoyoucometoknowMagic?Youarenotofroyalblood,I’llswear.”

“Well—ah—not perhaps in the strict sense,” stammeredUncleAndrew. “Not exactlyroyal,Ma’am.TheKetterleysare,however,averyoldfamily.AnoldDorsetshirefamily,Ma’am.”

“Peace,”saidtheWitch.“Iseewhatyouare.Youarealittle,peddlingMagicianwhoworksbyrulesandbooks.ThereisnorealMagicinyourbloodandheart.Yourkindwasmadeanendof inmyworlda thousandyearsago.ButhereIshallallowyoutobemyservant.”

“Ishouldbemosthappy—delightedtobeofanyservice—ap-pleasure,Iassureyou.”

“Peace!You talk far toomuch.Listen to your first task. I seewe are in a large city.

Procureformeatonceachariotoraflyingcarpetorawell-traineddragon,orwhateverisusualforroyalandnoblepersonsinyourland.ThenbringmetoplaceswhereIcangetclothesandjewelsandslavesfitformyrank.TomorrowIwillbegintheconquestoftheworld.”

“I—I—I’llgoandorderacabatonce,”gaspedUncleAndrew.

“Stop,” said theWitch, just as he reached the door. “Do not dreamof treachery.Myeyescanseethroughwallsandintothemindsofmen.Theywillbeonyouwhereveryougo.At the first signof disobedience Iwill lay such spells onyou that anythingyou sitdownonwillfeellikeredhotironandwheneveryoulieinabedtherewillbeinvisibleblocksoficeatyourfeet.Nowgo.”

Theoldmanwentout,lookinglikeadogwithitstailbetweenitslegs.

The childrenwere now afraid that Jadiswould have something to say to them aboutwhathadhappenedinthewood.Asitturnedout,however,shenevermentionediteitherthenorafterward.Ithink(andDigorythinkstoo)thathermindwasofasortwhichcannotrememberthatquietplaceatall,andhoweveroftenyoutookherthereandhoweverlongyouleftherthere,shewouldstillknownothingaboutit.Nowthatshewasleftalonewiththechildren,shetooknonoticeofeitherofthem.Andthatwaslikehertoo.InCharnshehadtakennonoticeofPolly(tilltheveryend)becauseDigorywastheoneshewantedtomakeuseof.NowthatshehadUncleAndrew,shetooknonoticeofDigory.Iexpectmostwitchesarelikethat.Theyarenotinterestedinthingsorpeopleunlesstheycanusethem;theyareterriblypractical.Sotherewassilenceintheroomforaminuteortwo.ButyoucouldtellbythewayJadistappedherfootonthefloorthatshewasgrowingimpatient.

Presentlyshesaid,asiftoherself,“Whatistheoldfooldoing?Ishouldhavebroughtawhip.”ShestalkedoutoftheroominpursuitofUncleAndrewwithoutoneglanceatthechildren.

“Whew!”saidPolly,lettingoutalongbreathofrelief.“AndnowImustgethome.It’sfrightfullylate.Ishallcatchit.”

“Well do, do come back as soon as you can,” said Digory. “This is simply ghastly,havingherhere.Wemustmakesomesortofplan.”

“That’suptoyourUnclenow,”saidPolly.“ItwashewhostartedallthismessingaboutwithMagic.”

“Allthesame,youwillcomeback,won’tyou?Hangitall,youcan’tleavemealoneinascrapelikethis.”

“Ishallgohomebythetunnel,”saidPollyrathercoldly.“That’llbethequickestway.Andifyouwantmetocomeback,hadn’tyoubettersayyou’resorry?”

“Sorry?”exclaimedDigory.“Wellnow,ifthatisn’tjustlikeagirl!WhathaveIdone?”

“Ohnothingofcourse,”saidPollysarcastically.“Onlynearlyscrewedmywristoffinthat roomwith all the waxworks, like a cowardly bully. Only struck the bell with thehammer,likeasillyidiot.Onlyturnedbackinthewoodsothatshehadtimetocatchholdofyoubeforewejumpedintoourownpool.That’sall.”

“Oh,”saidDigory,verysurprised.“Well,all right, I’llsayI’msorry.AndIreallyamsorryaboutwhathappenedinthewaxworksroom.There:I’vesaidI’msorry.Andnow,dobedecentandcomeback.Ishallbeinafrightfulholeifyoudon’t.”

“Idon’tseewhat’sgoingtohappentoyou.It’sMr.Ketterleywho’sgoingtositonredhotchairsandhaveiceinhisbed,isn’tit?”

“Itisn’tthatsortofthing,”saidDigory.“WhatI’mbotheredaboutisMother.Supposethatcreaturewentintoherroom.Shemightfrightenhertodeath.”

“Oh,Isee,”saidPollyinratheradifferentvoice.“Allright.We’llcallitPax.I’llcomeback—if I can. But I must go now.” And she crawled through the little door into thetunnel; and that dark place among the rafters which had seemed so exciting andadventurousafewhoursago,seemedquitetameandhomelynow.

We must now go back to Uncle Andrew. His poor old heart went pit-a-pat as hestaggereddowntheatticstairsandhekeptondabbingathisforeheadwithahandkerchief.Whenhereachedhisbedroom,whichwasthefloorbelow,helockedhimselfin.Andtheveryfirstthinghedidwastogropeinhiswardrobeforabottleandawine-glasswhichhealwayskepthiddentherewhereAuntLettycouldnotfindthem.Hepouredhimselfoutaglassfulofsomenasty,grown-updrinkanddrankitoffatonegulp.Thenhedrewadeepbreath.

“Uponmyword,”hesaid tohimself.“I’mdreadfullyshaken.Mostupsetting!Andatmytimeoflife!”

Hepouredoutasecondglassanddrankittoo;thenhebegantochangehisclothes.Youhaveneverseensuchclothes,butIcanrememberthem.Heputonaveryhigh,shiny,stiffcollarofthesortthatmadeyouholdyourchinupallthetime.Heputonawhitewaistcoatwithapatternonitandarrangedhisgoldwatchchainacrossthefront.Heputonhisbestfrock-coat, the one he kept forweddings and funerals.He got out his best tall hat and

polisheditup.Therewasavaseofflowers(puttherebyAuntLetty)onhisdressingtable;hetookoneandputitinhisbutton-hole.Hetookacleanhandkerchief(alovelyonesuchasyoucouldn’tbuytoday)outofthelittleleft-handdrawerandputafewdropsofscentonit.Hetookhiseye-glass,withthethickblackribbon,andscreweditintohiseye;thenhelookedathimselfinthemirror.

Childrenhaveonekindofsilliness,asyouknow,andgrown-upshaveanotherkind.AtthismomentUncleAndrewwasbeginningtobesillyinaverygrown-upway.NowthattheWitchwasno longer in thesameroomwithhimhewasquicklyforgettinghowshehad frightened him and thinking more and more of her wonderful beauty. He kept onsayingtohimself,“Ademfinewoman,sir,ademfinewoman.Asuperbcreature.”Hehadalsosomehowmanagedtoforgetthatitwasthechildrenwhohadgotholdofthis“superbcreature”:hefeltasifhehimselfbyhisMagichadcalledheroutofunknownworlds.

“Andrew,myboy,”hesaidtohimselfashelookedintheglass,“you’readevilishwellpreservedfellowforyourage.Adistinguished-lookingman,sir.”

Yousee,thefoolisholdmanwasactuallybeginningtoimaginetheWitchwouldfallinlovewithhim.Thetwodrinksprobablyhadsomethingtodowithit,andsohadhisbestclothes.But hewas, in any case, as vain as a peacock; thatwaswhyhehadbecomeaMagician.

He unlocked the door, went downstairs, sent the housemaid out to fetch a hansom(everyonehadlotsofservantsinthosedays)andlookedintothedrawing-room.There,asheexpected,hefoundAuntLetty.Shewasbusilymendingamattress.Itlayonthefloornearthewindowandshewaskneelingonit.

“Ah,Letitia,mydear,”saidUncleAndrew,“I—ah—havetogoout.Justlendmefivepoundsorso,there’sagoodgel.”(“Gel”wasthewayhepronouncedgirl.)

“No,Andrew,dear,”saidAuntLettyinherfirm,quietvoice,withoutlookingupfromherwork.“I’vetoldyoutimeswithoutnumberthatIwillnotlendyoumoney.”

“Now pray don’t be troublesome, my dear gel,” said Uncle Andrew. “It’s mostimportant.Youwillputmeinadeucedlyawkwardpositionifyoudon’t.”

“Andrew,” said Aunt Letty, looking him straight in the face, “I wonder you are notashamedtoaskmeformoney.”

Therewasa long,dullstoryofagrown-upkindbehind thesewords.Allyouneed toknowabout it is thatUncleAndrew,whatwith“managingdearLetty’sbusinessmattersfor her,” and never doing any work, and running up large bills for brandy and cigars(whichAuntLettyhadpaidagainandagain)hadmadeheragooddealpoorer thanshehadbeenthirtyyearsago.

“My dear gel,” said Uncle Andrew, “you don’t understand. I shall have some quiteunexpected expenses today. I have to do a little entertaining. Come now, don’t betiresome.”

“Andwho,pray,areyougoingtoentertain,Andrew?”askedAuntLetty.

“A—amostdistinguishedvisitorhasjustarrived.”

“Distinguished fiddlestick!” saidAuntLetty. “Therehasn’tbeena ringat thebell forthelasthour.”

At thatmoment thedoorwassuddenlyflungopen.AuntLetty lookedroundandsawwith amazement that an enormous woman, splendidly dressed, with bare arms andflashingeyes,stoodinthedoorway.ItwastheWitch.

SevenWHATHAPPENEDATTHEFRONTDOOR“NOW,SLAVE,HOWLONGAMITOWAITformychariot?”thunderedtheWitch.Uncle Andrew cowered away from her. Now that she was really present, all the sillythoughts he hadhadwhile looking at himself in the glasswere oozingout of him.ButAuntLettyatoncegotupfromherkneesandcameovertothecenteroftheroom.

“Andwhoisthisyoungperson,Andrew,mayIask?”saidAuntLettyinicytones.

“Distinguishedforeigner—v-veryimportantp-person,”hestammered.

“Rubbish!”saidAuntLetty,andthen,turningtotheWitch,“Getoutofmyhousethismoment,youshamelesshussy,orI’llsendforthepolice.”ShethoughttheWitchmustbesomeoneoutofacircusandshedidnotapproveofbarearms.

“Whatwomanisthis?”saidJadis.“Downonyourknees,minion,beforeIblastyou.”

“Nostronglanguageinthishouseifyouplease,youngwoman,”saidAuntLetty.

Instantly, as it seemed to Uncle Andrew, the Queen towered up to an even greaterheight.Fire flashedfromhereyes: she flungoutherarmwith thesamegestureand thesamehorrible-soundingwordsthathadlatelyturnedthepalace-gatesofCharntodust.ButnothinghappenedexceptthatAuntLetty,thinkingthatthosehorriblewordsweremeanttobeordinaryEnglish,said:

“Ithoughtasmuch.Thewomanisdrunk.Drunk!Shecan’tevenspeakclearly.”

ItmusthavebeenaterriblemomentfortheWitchwhenshesuddenlyrealizedthatherpowerof turningpeople intodust,whichhadbeenquitereal inherownworld,wasnotgoingtoworkinours.Butshedidnotlosehernerveevenforasecond.Withoutwastingathoughtonherdisappointment,shelungedforward,caughtAuntLettyroundtheneckandtheknees,raisedherhighaboveherheadasifshehadbeennoheavier thanadoll,andthrew her across the room. While Aunt Letty was still hurtling through the air, thehousemaid (whowashavingabeautifullyexcitingmorning)putherhead inat thedoorandsaid,“Ifyouplease,sir,the’ansom’scome.”

“Lead on, Slave,” said theWitch to Uncle Andrew. He began muttering somethingabout “regrettable violence—must really protest,” but at a single glance from Jadis hebecamespeechless.Shedrovehimoutoftheroomandoutofthehouse;andDigorycamerunningdownthestairsjustintimetoseethefrontdoorclosebehindthem.

“Jiminy!”hesaid.“She’slooseinLondon.AndwithUncleAndrew.Iwonderwhatonearthisgoingtohappennow.”

“Oh,MasterDigory,”saidthehousemaid(whowasreallyhavingawonderfulday),“IthinkMissKetterley’shurtherselfsomehow.”Sotheybothrushedintothedrawing-roomtofindoutwhathadhappened.

IfAuntLettyhadfallenonbareboardsorevenonthecarpet,Isupposeallherboneswouldhavebeenbroken:butbygreatgoodluckshehadfallenonthemattress.AuntLettywas avery toughold lady: auntsoftenwere in thosedays.After shehadhad some salvolatile and sat still for a fewminutes, she said therewas nothing thematterwith herexceptafewbruises.Verysoonshewastakingchargeofthesituation.

“Sarah,”shesaidtothehousemaid(whohadneverhadsuchadaybefore),“goaroundtothepolicestationatonceandtellthemthereisadangerouslunaticatlarge.IwilltakeMrs.Kirke’slunchupmyself.”Mrs.Kirkewas,ofcourse,Digory’smother.

WhenMother’s lunchhadbeen seen to,Digory andAuntLettyhad their own.Afterthathedidsomehardthinking.

Theproblemwashow toget theWitchback toherownworld, or at any rateout ofours,assoonaspossible.Whateverhappened,shemustnotbeallowedtogorampagingaboutthehouse.Mothermustnotseeher.And,ifpossible,shemustnotbeallowedtogorampagingaboutLondoneither.Digoryhadnotbeeninthedrawing-roomwhenshetriedto “blast” Aunt Letty, but he had seen her “blast” the gates at Charn: so he knew herterriblepowersanddidnotknowthatshehadlostanyofthembycomingintoourworld.Andheknewshemeanttoconquerourworld.Atthepresentmoment,asfarashecouldsee, shemight be blastingBuckinghamPalace or theHouses ofParliament: and itwasalmostcertainthatquiteanumberofpolicemenhadbynowbeenreducedtolittleheapsofdust.Andtheredidn’tseemtobeanythinghecoulddoaboutthat.“Buttheringsseemtoworklikemagnets,”thoughtDigory.“IfIcanonlytouchherandthensliponmyyellow,weshallbothgointotheWoodbetweentheWorlds.Iwonderwillshegoallfaintagainthere?Wasthatsomethingtheplacedoestoher,orwasitonlytheshockofbeingpulledoutofherownworld?ButIsupposeI’llhavetoriskthat.AndhowamItofindthebeast?Idon’tsupposeAuntLettywouldletmegoout,notunlessIsaidwhereIwasgoing.AndIhaven’tgotmorethantwopence.I’dneedanyamountofmoneyforbusesandtramsifIwentlookingalloverLondon.Anyway,Ihaven’tthefaintestideawheretolook.IwonderifUncleAndrewisstillwithher.”

Itseemedin theend that theonly thinghecoulddowas towaitandhope thatUncleAndrewandtheWitchwouldcomeback.Iftheydid,hemustrushoutandgetholdoftheWitch and put on his yellowRing before she had a chance to get into the house. Thismeantthathemustwatchthefrontdoorlikeacatwatchingamouse’shole;hedarednotleavehispostforamoment.Sohewentintothedining-roomand“gluedhisface”astheysay, to thewindow.Itwasabow-windowfromwhichyoucouldsee thestepsup to thefront door and see up and down the street, so that no one could reach the front doorwithoutyourknowing.“IwonderwhatPolly’sdoing?”thoughtDigory.

Hewonderedaboutthisagooddealasthefirstslowhalf-hourtickedon.Butyouneednotwonder, for I amgoing to tell you. She had got home late for her dinner,with hershoesandstockingsverywet.Andwhentheyaskedherwhereshehadbeenandwhatonearth she had been doing, she said she had been outwithDigoryKirke.Under furtherquestioningshesaidshehadgotherfeetwetinapoolofwater,andthatthepoolwasinawood.Askedwherethewoodwas,shesaidshedidn’tknow.Askedifitwasinoneoftheparks,shesaidtruthfullyenoughthatshesupposeditmightbeasortofpark.FromallofthisPolly’smothergot theideathatPollyhadgoneoff,without tellinganyone, tosome

partofLondonshedidn’tknow,andgoneintoastrangeparkandamusedherselfjumpingintopuddles.Asaresultshewastoldthatshehadbeenverynaughtyindeedandthatshewouldn’tbeallowedtoplaywith“thatKirkeboy”anymoreifanythingofthesorteverhappenedagain.Thenshewasgivendinnerwithallthenicepartsleftoutandsenttobedfortwosolidhours.Itwasathingthathappenedtoonequiteofteninthosedays.

SowhileDigorywasstaringoutof thedining-roomwindow,Pollywas lying inbed,andbothwere thinkinghow terribly slowly the time couldgo. I think,myself, IwouldratherhavebeeninPolly’sposition.Shehadonlytowaitfortheendofhertwohours:buteveryfewminutesDigorywouldhearacaborabaker’svanorabutcher’sboycominground the corner and think “Here she comes,” and then find itwasn’t.And in betweenthesefalsealarms,forwhatseemedhoursandhours,theclocktickedonandonebigfly—highupandfaroutofreach—buzzedagainstthewindow.Itwasoneofthosehousesthatgetveryquietanddullintheafternoonandalwaysseemtosmellofmutton.

DuringhislongwatchingandwaitingonesmallthinghappenedwhichIshallhavetomentionbecausesomethingimportantcameofitlateron.Aladycalledwithsomegrapesfor Digory’s Mother; and as the dining-room door was open, Digory couldn’t helpoverhearingAuntLettyandtheladyastheytalkedinthehall.

“What lovely grapes!” cameAunt Letty’s voice. “I’m sure if anything could do hergoodthesewould.Butpoor,dearlittleMabel!I’mafraiditwouldneedfruitfromthelandofyouthtohelphernow.Nothingin thisworldwilldomuch.”Thentheyboth loweredtheirvoicesandsaidalotmorethathecouldnothear.

IfhehadheardthatbitaboutthelandofyouthafewdaysagohewouldhavethoughtAuntLettywas just talkingwithoutmeaninganything inparticular, thewaygrown-upsdo,anditwouldn’thaveinterestedhim.Healmostthoughtsonow.Butsuddenlyitflasheduponhismindthathenowknew(evenifAuntLettydidn’t)thattherereallywereotherworldsandthathehimselfhadbeeninoneofthem.AtthatratetheremightbearealLandofYouthsomewhere.Theremightbealmostanything.Theremightbefruitinsomeotherworldthatwouldreallycurehismother!Andoh,oh—Well,youknowhowitfeelsifyoubeginhopingforsomethingthatyouwantdesperatelybadly;youalmostfightagainstthehopebecauseitistoogoodtobetrue;you’vebeendisappointedsooftenbefore.ThatwashowDigoryfelt.Butitwasnogoodtryingtothrottlethishope.Itmight—really,really,itjustmightbetrue.Somanyoddthingshadhappenedalready.Andhehadthemagicrings.Theremustbeworldsyoucouldget to througheverypool in thewood.Hecouldhuntthrough them all. And then—Mother well again. Everything right again. He forgot allaboutwatchingfortheWitch.Hishandwasalreadygoingintothepocketwherehekepttheyellowring,whenallatonceheheardasoundofgalloping.

“Hullo!What’s that?” thoughtDigory. “Fire-engine? Iwonderwhat house is on fire.GreatScott,it’scominghere.Why,it’sHer.”

Ineedn’ttellyouwhohemeantbyHer.

Firstcamethehansom.Therewasnooneinthedriver’sseat.Ontheroof—notsitting,butstandingontheroof—swayingwithsuperbbalanceasitcameatfullspeedroundthecornerwithonewheelintheair—wasJadistheQueenofQueensandtheTerrorofCharn.Herteethwerebared,hereyesshonelikefire,andherlonghairstreamedoutbehindher

likeacomet’stail.Shewasfloggingthehorsewithoutmercy.Itsnostrilswerewideandredanditssideswerespottedwithfoam.Itgallopedmadlyuptothefrontdoor,missingthelamp-postbyaninch,andthenreareduponitshindlegs.Thehansomcrashedintothelamp-post and shattered into several pieces. TheWitch, with a magnificent jump, hadsprungclear just in timeand landedon thehorse’sback.She settledherself astrideandleaned forward,whispering things in its ear. Theymust have been thingsmeant not toquietitbuttomaddenit.Itwasonitshindlegsagaininamoment,anditsneighwaslikeascream;itwasallhoofsandteethandeyesandtossingmane.Onlyasplendidridercouldhavestayedonitsback.

BeforeDigoryhadrecoveredhisbreathagoodmanyotherthingsbegantohappen.Asecond hansom dashed up close behind the first: out of it there jumped a fatman in afrock-coat and a policeman.Then came a thirdhansomwith twomorepolicemen in it.Afterit,cameabouttwentypeople(mostlyerrandboys)onbicycles,allringingtheirbellsandlettingoutcheersandcat-calls.Lastofallcameacrowdofpeopleonfoot:allveryhotwithrunning,butobviouslyenjoyingthemselves.Windowsshotupinallthehousesofthatstreetandahousemaidorabutlerappearedateveryfrontdoor.Theywantedtoseethefun.

Meanwhileanoldgentlemanhadbeguntostruggleshakilyoutoftheruinsofthefirsthansom.Severalpeoplerushedforwardtohelphim;butasonepulledhimonewayandanother another, perhaps he would have got out quite as quickly on his own. DigoryguessedthattheoldgentlemanmustbeUncleAndrewbutyoucouldn’tseehisface;histallhathadbeenbasheddownoverit.

Digoryrushedoutandjoinedthecrowd.

“That’s thewoman, that’s thewoman,”cried thefatman,pointingatJadis.“Doyourduty,Constable.Hundreds and thousandsofpounds’worth she’s takenoutofmy shop.Lookatthatropeofpearlsroundherneck.That’smine.Andshe’sgivenmeablackeyetoo,what’smore.”

“Thatshe’as,guv’nor,”saidoneofthecrowd.“AndaslovelyablackeyeasI’dwishtosee.Beautifulbitofworkthatmust’avebeen.Gor!ain’tshestrongthen!”

“You ought to put a nice raw beefsteak on it, Mister, that’s what it wants,” said abutcher’sboy.

“Nowthen,”saidthemostimportantofthepolicemen,“what’sallthis’ere?”

“Itellyoushe—”beganthefatman,whensomeoneelsecalledout:

“Don’tlettheoldcoveinthecabgetaway.’Eput’eruptoit.”

Theoldgentleman,whowascertainlyUncleAndrew,hadjustsucceededinstandingupandwasrubbinghisbruises.“Nowthen,”saidthepoliceman,turningtohim,“what’sallthis?”

“Womfle—pomfy—shomf,”cameUncleAndrew’svoicefrominsidethehat.

“Noneofthatnow,”saidthepolicemansternly.“You’llfindthisisnolaughingmatter.Takethat’atoff,see?”

Thiswasmoreeasilysaidthandone.ButafterUncleAndrewhadstruggledinvainwiththehatforsometime,twootherpolicemenseizeditbythebrimandforceditoff.

“Thankyou,thankyou,”saidUncleAndrewinafaintvoice.“Thankyou.Dearme,I’mterriblyshaken.Ifsomeonecouldgivemeasmallglassofbrandy—”

“Nowyouattendtome,ifyouplease,”saidthepoliceman,takingoutaverylargenotebookandaverysmallpencil.“Areyouinchargeofthatthereyoungwoman?”

“Lookout!”called severalvoices, and thepoliceman jumpeda stepbackward just intime.Thehorsehadaimedakickathimwhichwouldprobablyhavekilledhim.ThentheWitchwheeledthehorseroundsothatshefacedthecrowdanditshind-legswereonthefootpath.Shehada long,brightknife inherhandandhadbeenbusilycuttingthehorsefreefromthewreckofthehansom.

AllthistimeDigoryhadbeentryingtogetintoapositionfromwhichhecouldtouchtheWitch.Thiswasn’tatalleasybecause,onthesidenearesttohim,thereweretoomanypeople.And in order to get round to the other side he had to pass between the horse’shoofsand therailingsof the“area” thatsurrounded thehouse; for theKetterleys’househadabasement.Ifyouknowanythingabouthorses,andespeciallyifyouhadseenwhatastatethathorsewasinatthemoment,youwillrealizethatthiswasaticklishthingtodo.Digoryknewlotsabouthorses,buthesethisteethandgotreadytomakeadashforitassoonashesawafavorablemoment.

Ared-facedmaninabowlerhathadnowshoulderedhiswaytothefrontofthecrowd.

“Hi!P’leeceman,”hesaid,“that’smy’orsewhatshe’ssittingon,sameasit’smycabwhatshe’smadematchwoodof.”

“Oneatatime,please,oneatatime,”saidthepoliceman.

“Butthereain’tnotime,”saidtheCabby.“Iknowthat’orsebetter’nyoudo.’Tain’tanordinary’orse.’Isfatherwasahofficer’schargerinthecavalry,’ewas.Andiftheyoungwomangoesonhexcitin’’im,there’llbemurderdone.’Ere,letmegetathim.”

Thepolicemanwasonlytoogladtohaveagoodreasonforstandingfurtherawayfromthehorse.TheCabby tooka stepnearer, lookedupat Jadis, and said inanotunkindlyvoice:

“Now,Missie,letmegetat’is’ead,andjustyougetoff.You’reaLidy,andyoudon’twantalltheseroughsgoingforyou,doyou?Youwanttogo’omeand’aveanicecupofteaandalaydownquietlike;thenyou’llfeeleversomuchbetter.”Atthesametimehestretchedouthishand toward thehorse’sheadwith thewords,“Steady,Strawberry,oldboy.Steadynow.”

ThenforthefirsttimetheWitchspoke.

“Dog!” came her cold, clear voice, ringing loud above all the other noises. “Dog,unhandourroyalcharger.WearetheEmpressJadis.”

EightTHEFIGHTATTHELAMP-POST“HO!HEMPRESS,AREYOU?WE’LLSEE about that,” saidavoice.Thenanothervoicesaid,“ThreecheersfortheHempressofColney’Atch”andquiteanumberjoinedin.A flushof color came into theWitch’s faceand shebowedever so slightly.But thecheersdiedawayintoroarsoflaughterandshesawthattheyhadonlybeenmakingfunofher.Achangecameoverherexpressionandshechangedtheknifetoherlefthand.Then,withoutwarning,shedidathingthatwasdreadfultosee.Lightly,easily,asifitwerethemostordinarythingintheworld,shestretchedupherrightarmandwrenchedoffoneofthecross-barsofthelamp-post.Ifshehadlostsomemagicalpowersinourworld,shehadnotlostherstrength;shecouldbreakanironbarasifitwereastickofbarley-sugar.Shetossedhernewweaponup in theair,caught itagain,brandished it,andurged thehorseforward.

“Now’smychance,”thoughtDigory.Hedartedbetweenthehorseandtherailingsandbegangoingforward.Ifonlythebrutewouldstaystill foramomenthemightcatchtheWitch’sheel.Asherushed,heheardasickeningcrashandathud.TheWitchhadbroughtthebardownonthechiefpoliceman’shelmet:themanfelllikeanine-pin.

“Quick,Digory.Thismustbestopped,”saidavoicebesidehim.ItwasPolly,whohadrusheddownthemomentshewasallowedoutofbed.

“Youareabrick,”saidDigory.“Holdontometight.You’llhavetomanagethering.Yellow,remember.Anddon’tputitontillIshout.”

Therewas a secondcrash andanotherpolicemancrumpledup.There cameanangryroarfromthecrowd:“Pullherdown.Getafewpaving-stones.CallouttheMilitary.”Butmostofthemweregettingasfarawayastheycould.TheCabby,however,obviouslythebravestaswellasthekindestpersonpresent,waskeepingclosetothehorse,dodgingthiswayandthattoavoidthebar,butstilltryingtocatchStrawberry’shead.

Thecrowdbooedandbellowedagain.AstonewhistledoverDigory’shead.ThencamethevoiceoftheWitch,clearlikeagreatbell,andsoundingasif,foronce,shewerealmosthappy.

“Scum!YoushallpaydearlyforthiswhenIhaveconqueredyourworld.Notonestoneofyourcitywillbeleft.IwillmakeitasCharn,asFelinda,asSorlois,asBramandin.”

Digoryatlastcaughtherankle.Shekickedbackwithherheelandhithiminthemouth.Inhispainhelosthold.Hislipwascutandhismouthfullofblood.Fromsomewhereveryclosebycame thevoiceofUncleAndrew ina sortof tremblingscream.“Madam—mydearyounglady—forheaven’ssake—composeyourself.”Digorymadeasecondgrabatherheel, andwas again shakenoff.Moremenwereknockeddownby the ironbar.Hemadeathirdgrab:caughttheheel:heldonlikegrimdeath,shoutingtoPolly“Go!”then—Oh, thankgoodness.The angry, frightened faceshadvanished.The angry, frightenedvoicesweresilenced.AllexceptUncleAndrew’s.ClosebesideDigoryinthedarkness,itwaswailingon“Oh,oh,isthisdelirium?Isittheend?Ican’tbearit.It’snotfair.Inever

meanttobeaMagician.It’sallamisunderstanding.It’sallmygodmother’sfault;Imustprotestagainstthis.Inmystateofhealthtoo.AveryoldDorsetshirefamily.”

“Bother!”thoughtDigory.“Wedidn’twanttobringhimalong.Myhat,whatapicnic.Areyouthere,Polly?”

“Yes,I’mhere.Don’tkeeponshoving.”

“I’mnot,”beganDigory,butbeforehecouldsayanythingmore,theirheadscameoutintothewarm,greensunshineofthewood.AndastheysteppedoutofthepoolPollycriedout:

“Ohlook!We’vebroughttheoldhorsewithustoo.AndMr.Ketterley.AndtheCabby.Thisisaprettykettleoffish!”

AssoonastheWitchsawthatshewasoncemoreinthewoodsheturnedpaleandbentdowntillherfacetouchedthemaneofthehorse.Youcouldseeshefeltdeadlysick.UncleAndrewwasshivering.ButStrawberry,thehorse,shookhishead,gaveacheerfulwhinny,andseemedtofeelbetter.HebecamequietforthefirsttimesinceDigoryhadseenhim.Hisears,whichhadbeenlaidflatbackonhisskull,cameintotheirproperposition,andthefirewentoutofhiseyes.

“That’sright,oldboy,”saidtheCabby,slappingStrawberry’sneck.“That’sbetter.Takeiteasy.”

Strawberrydidthemostnaturalthingintheworld.Beingverythirsty(andnowonder)hewalkedslowlyacrosstothenearestpoolandsteppedintoittohaveadrink.Digorywasstillholding theWitch’sheelandPollywasholdingDigory’shand.Oneof theCabby’shandswas onStrawberry; andUncleAndrew, still very shaky, had just grabbed on theCabby’sotherhand.

“Quick,”saidPolly,withalookatDigory.“Greens!”

Sothehorsenevergothisdrink.Instead,thewholepartyfoundthemselvessinkingintodarkness.Strawberryneighed;UncleAndrewwhimpered.Digorysaid,“Thatwasabitofluck.”

Therewasashortpause.ThenPollysaid,“Oughtn’twetobenearlytherenow?”

“We do seem to be somewhere,” said Digory. “At least I’m standing on somethingsolid.”

“Why,soamI,nowthatIcometothinkofit,”saidPolly.“Butwhy’sitsodark?Isay,doyouthinkwegotintothewrongPool?”

“PerhapsthisisCharn,”saidDigory.“Onlywe’vegotbackinthemiddleofthenight.”

“ThisisnotCharn,”cametheWitch’svoice.“Thisisanemptyworld.ThisisNothing.”

Andreally itwasuncommonly likeNothing.Therewerenostars. Itwassodark thattheycouldn’tseeoneanotheratallanditmadenodifferencewhetheryoukeptyoureyesshutoropened.Undertheirfeettherewasacool,flatsomethingwhichmighthavebeenearth, andwas certainlynotgrassorwood.The airwas cold anddry and therewasnowind.

“Mydoomhascomeuponme,”saidtheWitchinavoiceofhorriblecalmness.

“Ohdon’tsaythat,”babbledUncleAndrew.“Mydearyounglady,praydon’tsaysuchthings.Itcan’tbeasbadasthat.Ah—Cabman—mygoodman—youdon’thappentohaveaflaskaboutyou?AdropofspiritsisjustwhatIneed.”

“Nowthen,nowthen,”cametheCabby’svoice,agoodfirm,hardyvoice.“Keepcooleveryone,that’swhatIsay.Nobonesbroken,anyone?Good.Wellthere’ssomethingtobethankfulforstraightaway,andmorethananyonecouldexpectafterfallingall thatway.Now, if we’ve fallen down some diggings—as it might be for a new station on theUnderground—someonewill come and get us out presently, see! And if we’re dead—whichIdon’tdenyitmightbe—well,yougottorememberthatworsethings’appenatseaandachap’sgottodiesometime.Andthereain’tnothingtobeafraidofifachap’sledadecentlife.Andifyouaskme,Ithinkthebestthingwecoulddotopassthetimewouldbetosinga’ymn.”

Andhedid.Hestruckupatonceaharvest thanksgivinghymn,allaboutcropsbeing“safelygatheredin.”Itwasnotverysuitabletoaplacewhichfeltasifnothinghadevergrowntheresincethebeginningoftime,butitwastheonehecouldrememberbest.Hehadafinevoiceandthechildrenjoinedin; itwasverycheering.UncleAndrewandtheWitchdidnotjoinin.

Toward the end of the hymnDigory felt someone plucking at his elbow and from ageneral smell of brandy and cigars and good clothes he decided that itmust beUncleAndrew.UncleAndrewwascautiouslypullinghimawayfromtheothers.Whentheyhadgonea littledistance, theoldmanputhismouthsoclose toDigory’sear that it tickled,andwhispered:

“Now,myboy.Sliponyourring.Let’sbeoff.”

ButtheWitchhadverygoodears.“Fool!”camehervoiceandsheleapedoffthehorse.“Have you forgotten that I can hear men’s thoughts? Let go the boy. If you attempttreacheryIwill takesuchvengeanceuponyouasneverwasheardofinallworldsfromthebeginning.”

“And,”addedDigory,“ifyouthinkI’msuchameanpigastogooffandleavePolly—andtheCabby—andthehorse—inaplacelikethis,you’rewellmistaken.”

“Youareaverynaughtyandimpertinentlittleboy,”saidUncleAndrew.

“Hush!”saidtheCabby.Theyalllistened.

Inthedarknesssomethingwashappeningatlast.Avoicehadbeguntosing.Itwasveryfar away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming.Sometimesitseemedtocomefromalldirectionsatonce.Sometimeshealmostthoughtitwas comingout of the earth beneath them. Its lowernotesweredeep enough to be thevoiceoftheearthherself.Therewerenowords.Therewashardlyevenatune.Butitwas,beyond comparison, themost beautiful noise he had ever heard. Itwas so beautiful hecouldhardlybearit.Thehorseseemedtolikeittoo;hegavethesortofwhinnyahorsewouldgiveif,afteryearsofbeingacab-horse,itfounditselfbackintheoldfieldwhereithadplayedasafoal,andsawsomeonewhomitrememberedandlovedcomingacrossthefieldtobringitalumpofsugar.

“Gawd!”saidtheCabby.“Ain’titlovely?”

Thentwowondershappenedatthesamemoment.Onewasthatthevoicewassuddenlyjoinedbyothervoices;morevoicesthanyoucouldpossiblycount.Theywereinharmonywithit,butfarhigherupthescale:cold,tingling,silveryvoices.Thesecondwonderwasthat the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazingwith stars. They didn’t come outgentlyonebyone,astheydoonasummerevening.Onemomenttherehadbeennothingbutdarkness;nextmomentathousand,thousandpointsoflightleapedout—singlestars,constellations, and planets, brighter and bigger than any in our world. There were noclouds.Thenewstarsandthenewvoicesbeganatexactlythesametime.Ifyouhadseenand heard it, as Digory did, you would have felt quite certain that it was the starsthemselveswhichweresinging,andthatitwastheFirstVoice,thedeepone,whichhadmadethemappearandmadethemsing.

“Glorybe!”said theCabby.“I’dha’beenabettermanallmy life if I’dknowntherewerethingslikethis.”

TheVoiceontheearthwasnowlouderandmoretriumphant;butthevoicesinthesky,aftersingingloudlywithitforatime,begantogetfainter.Andnowsomethingelsewashappening.

Far away, anddownnear thehorizon, the skybegan to turngray.A lightwind,veryfresh,begantostir.Thesky,inthatoneplace,grewslowlyandsteadilypaler.Youcouldseeshapesofhillsstandingupdarkagainstit.AllthetimetheVoicewentonsinging.

Therewassoon lightenoughfor themtoseeoneanother’s faces.TheCabbyand thetwochildrenhadopenmouthsandshiningeyes;theyweredrinkinginthesound,andtheylookedasifitremindedthemofsomething.UncleAndrew’smouthwasopentoo,butnotopenwithjoy.Helookedmoreasifhischinhadsimplydroppedawayfromtherestofhisface.Hisshoulderswerestoopedandhiskneesshook.HewasnotlikingtheVoice.Ifhecouldhavegotawayfromitbycreepingintoarat’shole,hewouldhavedoneso.ButtheWitchlookedasif,inaway,sheunderstoodthemusicbetterthananyofthem.Hermouthwasshut,herlipswerepressedtogether,andherfistswereclenched.EversincethesongbeganshehadfeltthatthiswholeworldwasfilledwithaMagicdifferentfromhersandstronger.Shehatedit.Shewouldhavesmashedthatwholeworld,orallworlds,topieces,ifitwouldonlystopthesinging.Thehorsestoodwithitsearswellforward,andtwitching.Everynowandthenitsnortedandstampedtheground.Itnolongerlookedlikeatiredold

cab-horse;youcouldnowwellbelievethatitsfatherhadbeeninbattles.

Theeasternskychangedfromwhitetopinkandfrompinktogold.TheVoiceroseandrose,tillall theairwasshakingwithit.Andjustasitswelledtothemightiestandmostglorioussoundithadyetproduced,thesunarose.

Digoryhadneverseensuchasun.ThesunabovetheruinsofCharnhadlookedolderthanours: this lookedyounger.Youcould imagine that it laughedfor joyas itcameup.Andasitsbeamsshotacrossthelandthetravelerscouldseeforthefirsttimewhatsortofplace theywere in. It was a valley throughwhich a broad, swift river wound its way,flowingeastwardtowardthesun.Southwardthereweremountains,northwardtherewerelowerhills.Butitwasavalleyofmereearth,rockandwater;therewasnotatree,notabush,notabladeofgrasstobeseen.Theearthwasofmanycolors;theywerefresh,hotandvivid.Theymadeyou feel excited;until you saw theSingerhimself, and thenyouforgoteverythingelse.

Itwas aLion.Huge, shaggy, andbright, it stood facing the risen sun. Itsmouthwaswideopeninsonganditwasaboutthreehundredyardsaway.

“Thisisaterribleworld,”saidtheWitch.“Wemustflyatonce.PreparetheMagic.”

“I quite agree with you, Madam,” said Uncle Andrew. “A most disagreeable place.Completelyuncivilized.IfonlyIwereayoungermanandhadagun—”

“Garn!”saidtheCabby.“Youdon’tthinkyoucouldshoot’im,doyou?”

“Andwhowould?”saidPolly.

“PreparetheMagic,oldfool,”saidJadis.

“Certainly, Madam,” said Uncle Andrew cunningly. “I must have both the childrentouchingme.Putonyourhomewardringatonce,Digory.”HewantedtogetawaywithouttheWitch.

“Oh, it’s rings, is it?” cried Jadis. Shewould havehadher hands inDigory’s pocketbeforeyoucouldsayknife,butDigorygrabbedPollyandshoutedout:

“Takecare.Ifeitherofyoucomehalfaninchnearer,wetwowillvanishandyou’llbelefthereforgood.Yes:IhavearinginmypocketthatwilltakePollyandmehome.Andlook!Myhandisjustready.Sokeepyourdistance.I’msorryaboutyou”(helookedattheCabby)“andaboutthehorse,butIcan’thelpthat.Asforyoutwo”(helookedatUncleAndrewandtheQueen)“you’rebothmagicians,soyououghttoenjoylivingtogether.”

“’Oldyournoise,everyone,”saidtheCabby.“Iwanttolistentothemoosic.”

Forthesonghadnowchanged.

NineTHEFOUNDINGOFNARNIATHELIONWASPACINGTOANDFROaboutthatemptylandandsinginghisnewsong.Itwassofterandmoreliltingthanthesongbywhichhehadcalledupthestarsandthesun;agentle,ripplingmusic.Andashewalkedandsangthevalleygrewgreenwithgrass.ItspreadoutfromtheLionlikeapool. It ranupthesidesof the littlehills likeawave. In a fewminutes it was creeping up the lower slopes of the distant mountains,makingthatyoungworldeverymomentsofter.Thelightwindcouldnowbeheardrufflingthegrass.Soon therewereother thingsbesidesgrass.Thehigherslopesgrewdarkwithheather.Patchesofrougherandmorebristlinggreenappearedinthevalley.Digorydidnotknowwhattheywereuntilonebegancomingupquiteclosetohim.Itwasalittle,spikythingthatthrewoutdozensofarmsandcoveredthesearmswithgreenandgrewlargerattherateofaboutanincheverytwoseconds.Thereweredozensofthesethingsallroundhimnow.When theywerenearlyas tallashimselfhesawwhat theywere.“Trees!”heexclaimed.

Thenuisanceofit,asPollysaidafterward,wasthatyouweren’tleftinpeacetowatchitall.JustasDigorysaid“Trees!”hehadtojumpbecauseUncleAndrewhadsidleduptohimagain andwas just going to pick his pocket. Itwouldn’t havedoneUncleAndrewmuchgood ifhehad succeeded, forhewasaimingat the right-handpocketbecausehestillthoughtthegreenringswere“homeward”rings.ButofcourseDigorydidn’twanttoloseeither.

“Stop!”criedtheWitch.“Standback.No,furtherback.Ifanyonegoeswithintenpacesofeitherofthechildren,Iwillknockouthisbrains.”Shewaspoisinginherhandtheironbarthatshehadtornoffthelamp-post,readytothrowit.Somehownoonedoubtedthatshewouldbeaverygoodshot.

“So!”shesaid.“Youwouldstealback toyourownworldwith theboyand leavemehere.”

UncleAndrew’s temperat lastgot thebetterofhis fears. “Yes,Ma’am, Iwould,”hesaid. “Most undoubtedly Iwould. I should be perfectly inmy rights. I have beenmostshamefully,mostabominablytreated.Ihavedonemybesttoshowyousuchcivilitiesaswereinmypower.Andwhathasbeenmyreward?Youhaverobbed—Imustrepeattheword—robbedahighlyrespectablejeweler.Youhaveinsistedonmyentertainingyoutoanexceedinglyexpensive,nottosayostentatious,lunch,thoughIwasobligedtopawnmywatchandchain inorder todoso (and letme tellyou,Ma’am, thatnoneofour familyhavebeeninthehabitoffrequentingpawnshops,exceptmycousinEdward,andhewasintheYeomanry).During that indigestiblemeal—I’m feeling theworse for it at this verymoment—yourbehaviorandconversationattractedtheunfavorableattentionofeveryonepresent.IfeelIhavebeenpubliclydisgraced.Ishallneverbeabletoshowmyfaceinthatrestaurantagain.Youhaveassaultedthepolice.Youhavestolen—”

“Ohstowit,Guv’nor,dostowit,”saidtheCabby.“Watchin’andlistenin’sthethingatpresent;nottalking.”

Therewascertainlyplentytowatchandtolistento.ThetreewhichDigoryhadnoticedwasnowafull-grownbeechwhosebranchesswayedgentlyabovehishead.Theystoodoncool,greengrass,sprinkledwithdaisiesandbuttercups.Alittlewayoff,alongtheriverbank,willowswere growing.On the other side tangles of flowering currant, lilac,wildrose,andrhododendronclosedthemin.Thehorsewastearingupdeliciousmouthfulsofnewgrass.

AllthistimetheLion’ssong,andhisstatelyprowl,toandfro,backwardandforward,wasgoingon.Whatwasratheralarmingwasthatateachturnhecamealittlenearer.Pollywasfindingthesongmoreandmoreinterestingbecauseshethoughtshewasbeginningtoseetheconnectionbetweenthemusicandthethingsthatwerehappening.Whenalineofdark firs sprang up on a ridge about a hundred yards away she felt that they wereconnectedwithaseriesofdeep,prolongednoteswhichtheLionhadsungasecondbefore.And when he burst into a rapid series of lighter notes she was not surprised to seeprimrosessuddenlyappearingineverydirection.Thus,withanunspeakablethrill,shefeltquitecertainthatallthethingswerecoming(asshesaid)“outoftheLion’shead.”Whenyoulistenedtohissongyouheardthethingshewasmakingup:whenyoulookedroundyou,yousawthem.Thiswassoexcitingthatshehadnotimetobeafraid.ButDigoryandtheCabbycouldnothelpfeelingabitnervousaseachturnoftheLion’swalkbroughthimnearer.AsforUncleAndrew,histeethwerechattering,buthiskneeswereshakingsothathecouldnotrunaway.

Suddenly theWitch stepped boldly out toward the Lion. It was coming on, alwayssinging,withaslow,heavypace.Itwasonlytwelveyardsaway.Sheraisedherarmandflungtheironbarstraightatitshead.

Nobody,leastofallJadis,couldhavemissedatthatrange.ThebarstrucktheLionfairbetweentheeyes.Itglancedoffandfellwithathudinthegrass.TheLioncameon.Itswalkwasneitherslowernorfasterthanbefore;youcouldnottellwhetheritevenknewithadbeenhit.Thoughitssoftpadsmadenonoise,youcouldfeeltheearthshakebeneaththeirweight.

TheWitchshriekedandran: ina fewmomentsshewasoutofsightamong the trees.UncleAndrewturnedtodolikewise,trippedoveraroot,andfellflatonhisfaceinalittle

brookthatrandowntojointheriver.Thechildrencouldnotmove.Theywerenotevenquitesurethattheywantedto.TheLionpaidnoattentiontothem.Itshugeredmouthwasopen, but open in song not in a snarl. It passed by them so close that they could havetouched itsmane.Theywere terriblyafraid itwould turnand lookat them,yet insomequeerwaytheywisheditwould.Butforallthenoticeittookofthemtheymightjustaswellhavebeeninvisibleandunsmellable.Whenithadpassedthemandgoneafewpacesfurtheritturned,passedthemagain,andcontinueditsmarcheastward.

UncleAndrew,coughingandspluttering,pickedhimselfup.

“Now,Digory,”hesaid,“we’vegotridofthatwoman,andthebruteofalionisgone.Givemeyourhandandputonyourringatonce.”

“Keepoff,”saidDigory,backingawayfromhim.“Keepclearofhim,Polly.Comeoverherebesideme.NowIwarnyou,UncleAndrew,don’tcomeonestepnearer,we’ll justvanish.”

“Do what you’re told this minute, sir,” said Uncle Andrew. “You’re an extremelydisobedient,ill-behavedlittleboy.”

“Nofear,”saidDigory.“Wewanttostayandseewhathappens.Ithoughtyouwantedtoknowaboutotherworlds.Don’tyoulikeitnowyou’rehere?”

“Likeit!”exclaimedUncleAndrew.“JustlookatthestateI’min.Anditwasmybestcoatandwaistcoat,too.”Hecertainlywasadreadfulsightbynow:forofcourse,themoredressed up you were to begin with, the worse you look after you’ve crawled out of asmashedhansomcabandfallenintoamuddybrook.“I’mnotsaying,”headded,“thatthisisnotamostinterestingplace.IfIwereayoungerman,now—perhapsIcouldgetsomelivelyyoungfellowtocomeherefirst.Oneofthosebig-gamehunters.Somethingmightbemadeofthiscountry.Theclimateisdelightful.Ineverfeltsuchair.Ibelieveitwouldhave doneme good if—if circumstances had beenmore favorable. If onlywe’d had agun.”

“Gunsbeblowed,”saidtheCabby.“IthinkI’llgoandseeifIcangiveStrawberryarubdown.Thathorse’asmoresensethansome’umansasIcouldmention.”HewalkedbacktoStrawberryandbeganmakingthehissingnoisesthatgroomsmake.

“DoyoustillthinkthatLioncouldbekilledbyagun?”askedDigory.“Hedidn’tmindtheironbarmuch.”

“Withallherfaults,”saidUncleAndrew,“that’sapluckygel,myboy.Itwasaspiritedthing to do.” He rubbed his hands and cracked his knuckles, as if he were oncemoreforgettinghowtheWitchfrightenedhimwhenevershewasreallythere.

“Itwasawickedthingtodo,”saidPolly.“Whatharmhadhedoneher?”

“Hullo!What’sthat?”saidDigory.Hehaddartedforwardtoexaminesomethingonlyafewyardsaway.“Isay,Polly,”hecalledback.“Docomeandlook.”

UncleAndrewcamewithher;notbecausehewantedtoseebutbecausehewantedtokeepclosetothechildren—theremightbeachanceofstealingtheirrings.ButwhenhesawwhatDigorywaslookingat,evenhebegantotakeaninterest.Itwasaperfectlittlemodelofalamp-post,aboutthreefeethighbutlengthening,andthickeninginproportion,

astheywatchedit;infactgrowingjustasthetreeshadgrown.

“It’s alive too—I mean, it’s lit,” said Digory. And so it was; though of course, thebrightnessofthesunmadethelittleflameinthelanternhardtoseeunlessyourshadowfellonit.

“Remarkable,most remarkable,”mutteredUncleAndrew. “Even I never dreamed ofMagiclikethis.We’reinaworldwhereeverything,evenalamp-post,comestolifeandgrows.NowIwonderwhatsortofseedalamp-postgrowsfrom?”

“Don’tyousee?”saidDigory.“Thisiswherethebarfell—thebarshetoreoffthelamp-postathome.Itsankintothegroundandnowit’scomingupasayounglamp-post.”(Butnotsoveryyoungnow;itwasastallasDigorywhilehesaidthis.)

“That’sit!Stupendous,stupendous,”saidUncleAndrew,rubbinghishandsharderthanever. “Ho, ho! They laughed at myMagic. That fool of a sister of mine thinks I’m alunatic. Iwonderwhat they’ll saynow? I havediscovered aworldwhere everything isburstingwithlifeandgrowth.Columbus,now,theytalkaboutColumbus.ButwhatwasAmericatothis?Thecommercialpossibilitiesofthiscountryareunbounded.Bringafewold bits of scrap iron here, bury ’em, andup they come as brandnew railway engines,battleships,anythingyouplease.They’llcostnothing,andIcansell’ematfullpricesinEngland.Ishallbeamillionaire.Andthentheclimate!Ifeelyearsyoungeralready.Icanrunitasahealthresort.Agoodsanatoriumheremightbeworthtwentythousandayear.OfcourseIshallhavetoletafewpeopleintothesecret.Thefirstthingistogetthatbruteshot.”

“You’rejustliketheWitch,”saidPolly.“Allyouthinkofiskillingthings.”

“Andthenasregardsoneself,”UncleAndrewcontinued,inahappydream.“There’snoknowinghow long Imight live if I settled here.And that’s a big considerationwhen afellowhasturnedsixty.Ishouldn’tbesurprisedifInevergrewadayolderinthiscountry!Stupendous!Thelandofyouth!”

“Oh!”criedDigory.“The landofyouth!Doyou think it really is?”ForofcourseherememberedwhatAuntLettyhadsaidtotheladywhobroughtthegrapes,andthatsweethoperushedbackuponhim.“UncleAndrew,”hesaid,“doyouthinkthere’sanythingherethatwouldcureMother?”

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”saidUncleAndrew.“Thisisn’tachemist’sshop.ButasIwassaying—”

“Youdon’tcaretwopenceabouther,”saidDigorysavagely.“Ithoughtyoumight;afterall,she’syoursisteraswellasmyMother.Well,nomatter.I’mjollywellgoingtoasktheLionhimselfifhecanhelpme.”Andheturnedandwalkedbrisklyaway.Pollywaitedforamomentandthenwentafterhim.

“Here!Stop!Comeback!Theboy’sgonemad,”saidUncleAndrew.Hefollowedthechildren at a cautious distance behind; for he didn’twant to get too far away from thegreenringsortooneartheLion.

InafewminutesDigorycametotheedgeofthewoodandtherehestopped.TheLionwas singing still.But now the songhadoncemore changed. Itwasmore likewhatwe

shouldcallatune,butitwasalsofarwilder.Itmadeyouwanttorunandjumpandclimb.Itmadeyouwanttoshout.Itmadeyouwanttorushatotherpeopleandeitherhugthemorfightthem.ItmadeDigoryhotandredintheface.IthadsomeeffectonUncleAndrew,forDigorycouldhearhimsaying,“Aspiritedgel,sir.It’sapityabouthertemper,butadem finewoman all the same, a dem finewoman.” But what the song did to the twohumanswasnothingcomparedwithwhatitwasdoingtothecountry.

Canyouimagineastretchofgrassylandbubblinglikewaterinapot?Forthatisreallythebestdescriptionofwhatwashappening.Inalldirectionsitwasswellingintohumps.They were of very different sizes, some no bigger than mole-hills, some as big aswheelbarrows,twothesizeofcottages.Andthehumpsmovedandswelledtilltheyburst,and the crumbled earth poured out of them, and from each hump there came out ananimal.ThemolescameoutjustasyoumightseeamolecomeoutinEngland.Thedogscameout,barkingthemomenttheirheadswerefree,andstrugglingasyou’veseenthemdowhentheyaregettingthroughanarrowholeinahedge.Thestagswerethequeeresttowatch, forof course theantlers cameupa long timebefore the restof them, soat firstDigorythoughttheyweretrees.Thefrogs,whoallcameupneartheriver,wentstraightintoitwithaplop-plopandaloudcroaking.Thepanthers,leopardsandthingsofthatsort,satdownatoncetowashthelooseearthofftheirhindquartersandthenstoodupagainstthetreestosharpentheirfrontclaws.Showersofbirdscameoutofthetrees.Butterfliesfluttered. Bees got to work on the flowers as if they hadn’t a second to lose. But thegreatestmomentofallwaswhenthebiggesthumpbrokelikeasmallearthquakeandoutcame the sloping back, the large, wise head, and the four baggy-trousered legs of anelephant.AndnowyoucouldhardlyhearthesongoftheLion;therewassomuchcawing,cooing,crowing,braying,neighing,baying,barking,lowing,bleating,andtrumpeting.

ButthoughDigorycouldnolongerheartheLion,hecouldseeit.Itwassobigandsobrightthathecouldnottakehiseyesoffit.Theotheranimalsdidnotappeartobeafraidofit.Indeed,atthatverymoment,Digoryheardthesoundofhoofsfrombehind;asecondlatertheoldcab-horsetrottedpasthimandjoinedtheotherbeasts.(TheairhadapparentlysuitedhimaswellasithadsuitedUncleAndrew.Henolongerlookedlikethepoor,oldslavehehadbeeninLondon;hewaspickinguphisfeetandholdinghisheaderect.)Andnow, for the first time, the Lionwas quite silent. Hewas going to and fro among theanimals.Andeverynowandthenhewouldgouptotwoofthem(alwaystwoatatime)and touch theirnoseswithhis.Hewould touch twobeaversamongall thebeavers, twoleopardsamongalltheleopards,onestagandonedeeramongallthedeer,andleavetherest.Somesortsofanimalhepassedoveraltogether.Butthepairswhichhehadtouchedinstantlylefttheirownkindsandfollowedhim.Atlasthestoodstillandallthecreatureswhomhehadtouchedcameandstoodinawidecirclearoundhim.Theotherswhomhehadnottouchedbegantowanderaway.Theirnoisesfadedgraduallyintothedistance.Thechosenbeastswhoremainedwerenowutterlysilent,allwiththeireyesfixedintentlyupontheLion.The cat-likeonesgave anoccasional twitchof the tail but otherwise allwerestill.Forthefirsttimethatdaytherewascompletesilence,exceptforthenoiseofrunningwater.Digory’sheartbeatwildly;heknewsomethingverysolemnwasgoingtobedone.He had not forgotten about his Mother; but he knew jolly well that, even for her, hecouldn’tinterruptathinglikethis.

TheLion,whoseeyesneverblinked,staredattheanimalsashardasifhewasgoingtoburnthemupwithhismerestare.Andgraduallyachangecameoverthem.Thesmallerones—therabbits,moles,andsuch-like—grewagooddeallarger.Theverybigones—younoticed itmostwith the elephants—grewa little smaller.Many animals sat up on theirhindlegs.Mostputtheirheadsononesideasiftheyweretryingveryhardtounderstand.TheLion opened hismouth, but no sound came from it; hewas breathing out, a long,warm breath; it seemed to sway all the beasts as the wind sways a line of trees. Faroverheadfrombeyond theveilofblueskywhichhid themthestarssangagain;apure,cold,difficultmusic.Thentherecameaswift flash likefire(but itburntnobody)eitherfrom the sky or from the Lion itself, and every drop of blood tingled in the children’sbodies,andthedeepest,wildestvoicetheyhadeverheardwassaying:

“Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake. Love. Think. Speak. Be walking trees. Be talkingbeasts.Bedivinewaters.”

TenTHEFIRSTJOKEANDOTHERMATTERSITWASOFCOURSETHELION’SVOICE.Thechildrenhad long felt sure thathecouldspeak:yetitwasalovelyandterribleshockwhenhedid.

Outofthetreeswildpeoplesteppedforth,godsandgoddessesofthewood;withthemcameFauns andSatyrs andDwarfs.Out of the river rose the river godwith hisNaiaddaughters.Andalltheseandallthebeastsandbirdsintheirdifferentvoices,loworhighorthickorclear,replied:

“Hail, Aslan.We hear and obey.We are awake.We love.We think.We speak.Weknow.”

“Butplease,wedon’tknowverymuchyet,”saidanoseyandsnortykindofvoice.Andthatreallydidmakethechildrenjump,foritwasthecab-horsewhohadspoken.

“GoodoldStrawberry,”saidPolly.“IamgladhewasoneoftheonespickedouttobeaTalkingBeast.”AndtheCabby,whowasnowstandingbesidethechildren,said,“Strikemepink.Ialwaysdidsayasthat’oss’adalotofsense,though.”

“Creatures,Igiveyouyourselves,”saidthestrong,happyvoiceofAslan.“IgivetoyouforeverthislandofNarnia.Igiveyouthewoods,thefruits,therivers.IgiveyouthestarsandIgiveyoumyself.TheDumbBeastswhomIhavenotchosenareyoursalso.TreatthemgentlyandcherishthembutdonotgobacktotheirwayslestyouceasetobeTalkingBeasts.Foroutofthemyouweretakenandintothemyoucanreturn.Donotso.”

“No,Aslan,wewon’t,wewon’t,” said everyone.But one perky jackdawadded in aloud voice, “No fear!” and everyone else had finished just before he said it so that his

wordscameoutquiteclearinadeadsilence;andperhapsyouhavefoundouthowawfulthatcanbe—say,ataparty.TheJackdawbecamesoembarrassedthatithiditsheadunderitswingasifitweregoingtosleep.Andalltheotheranimalsbeganmakingvariousqueernoiseswhicharetheirwaysoflaughingandwhich,ofcourse,noonehaseverheardinourworld.Theytriedatfirsttorepressit,butAslansaid:

“Laughandfearnot,creatures.Nowthatyouarenolongerdumbandwitless,youneednotalwaysbegrave.Forjokesaswellasjusticecomeinwithspeech.”

Sotheyallletthemselvesgo.AndtherewassuchmerrimentthattheJackdawhimselfpluckedupcourageagainandperchedonthecab-horse’shead,betweenitsears,clappingitswings,andsaid:

“Aslan!Aslan!HaveImadethefirstjoke?WilleverybodyalwaysbetoldhowImadethefirstjoke?”

“No,littlefriend,”saidtheLion.“Youhavenotmadethefirstjoke;youhaveonlybeenthefirstjoke.”Theneveryonelaughedmorethanever;buttheJackdawdidn’tmindandlaughedjustasloudtillthehorseshookitsheadandtheJackdawlostitsbalanceandfelloff,butremembereditswings(theywerestillnewtoit)beforeitreachedtheground.

“Andnow,”saidAslan,“Narniaisestablished.Wemustnexttakethoughtforkeepingitsafe.Iwillcallsomeofyoutomycouncil.Comehithertome,youthechiefDwarf,andyou the River-god, and you Oak and the He-Owl, and both the Ravens and the Bull-Elephant.Wemust talk together.For though theworld isnot fivehoursoldanevilhasalreadyenteredit.”

Thecreatureshehadnamedcameforwardandheturnedawayeastwardwiththem.Theothersallbegantalking,sayingthingslike“Whatdidhesayhadenteredtheworld?—ANeevil—What’s aNeevil?—No,hedidn’t sayaNeevil, he saidaweevil—Well,what’sthat?”

“Lookhere,”saidDigorytoPolly,“I’vegottogoafterhim—Aslan,Imean,theLion.Imustspeaktohim.”

“Doyouthinkwecan?”saidPolly.“Iwouldn’tdare.”

“I’vegotto,”saidDigory.“It’saboutMother.Ifanyonecouldgivemesomethingthatwoulddohergood,itwouldbehim.”

“I’llcomealongwithyou,”saidtheCabby.“Ilikedthelooksof’im.AndIdon’treckontheseotherbeastswillgoforus.AndIwantawordwitholdStrawberry.”

So all three of them stepped out boldly—or as boldly as they could—toward theassembly of animals. The creatures were so busy talking to one another and makingfriends that theydidn’tnotice the threehumansuntil theywereveryclose;nordid theyhearUncleAndrew,whowasstandingtremblinginhisbuttonedbootsagoodwayoffandshouting(butbynomeansatthetopofhisvoice).

“Digory!Comeback!Comebackatoncewhenyou’re told. I forbidyou togoastepfurther.”

Whenatlasttheywererightinamongtheanimals,theanimalsallstoppedtalkingandstaredatthem.

“Well?”saidtheHe-Beaveratlast,“what,inthenameofAslan,arethese?”

“Please,”beganDigoryinratherabreathlessvoice,whenaRabbitsaid,“They’reakindoflargelettuce,that’smybelief.”

“No,we’renot,honestlywe’renot,”saidPollyhastily.“We’renotatallnicetoeat.”

“There!”saidtheMole.“Theycantalk.Whoeverheardofatalkinglettuce?”

“Perhapsthey’retheSecondJoke,”suggestedtheJackdaw.

APanther,whichhadbeenwashingitsface,stoppedforamomenttosay,“Well,iftheyare,they’renothinglikesogoodasthefirstone.Atleast,Idon’tseeanythingveryfunnyaboutthem.”Ityawnedandwentonwithitswash.

“Oh,please,”saidDigory.“I’minsuchahurry.IwanttoseetheLion.”

AllthistimetheCabbyhadbeentryingtocatchStrawberry’seye.Nowhedid.“Now,Strawberry,oldboy,”hesaid.“Youknowme.Youain’tgoing tostand thereandsayasyoudon’tknowme.”

“What’stheThingtalkingabout,Horse?”saidseveralvoices.

“Well,” saidStrawberry very slowly, “I don’t exactly know, I thinkmost of us don’tknowmuchaboutanythingyet.ButI’veasortofideaI’veseenathinglikethisbefore.I’veafeelingIlivedsomewhereelse—orwassomethingelse—beforeAslanwokeusallupafewminutesago.It’sallverymuddled.Likeadream.Buttherewerethingslikethesethreeinthedream.”

“What?”saidtheCabby.“Notknowme?Mewhatusedtobringyouahotmashofaneveningwhenyouwasoutofsorts?Mewhatrubbedyoudownproper?Mewhatneverforgottoputyourclothonyouifyouwasstandinginthecold?Iwouldn’t’avethoughtitofyou,Strawberry.”

“Itdoesbegintocomeback,”saidtheHorsethoughtfully.“Yes.Letmethinknow,letmethink.Yes,youusedtotieahorridblackthingbehindmeandthenhitmetomakemerun, andhowever far I ran thisblack thingwouldalwaysbecoming rattle-rattlebehindme.”

“We’adourlivingtoearn,see,”saidtheCabby.“Yoursthesameasmine.Andifthere’adn’tbeennoworkandnowhip there’d ’avebeennostable,nohay,nomash,andnooats.ForyoudidgetatasteofoatswhenIcouldafford’em,whichnoonecandeny.”

“Oats?”said theHorse,prickinguphisears.“Yes, I remembersomethingabout that.Yes.Iremembermoreandmore.Youwerealwayssittingupsomewherebehind,andIwasalwaysrunninginfront,pullingyouandtheblackthing.IknowIdidallthework.”

“Summer,Igrantyou,”saidtheCabby.“’Otworkforyouandacoolseatforme.Butwhat aboutwinter, old boy,whenyouwas keepingyourselfwarmand Iwas sittinguptherewithmyfeetlikeiceandmynosefairpinchedoffmewiththewind,andmy’andsthatnumbIcouldn’t’ardly’oldthereins?”

“Itwasahard,cruelcountry,”saidStrawberry.“Therewasnograss.Allhardstones.”

“Tootrue,mate,tootrue!”saidtheCabby.“A’ardworlditwas.Ialwaysdidsaythosepaving-stonesweren’t fair on any ’oss.That’sLunn’on, that is. I didn’t like it nomorethanwhatyoudid.Youwereacountry’oss,andIwasacountryman.Usedtosinginthechoir,Idid,downat’ome.Buttherewasn’talivingformethere.”

“Oh please, please,” said Digory. “Could we get on? The Lion’s getting further andfurtheraway.AndIdowanttospeaktohimsodreadfullybadly.”

“Look’ere,Strawberry,”saidtheCabby.“Thisyounggen’leman’assomethingonhis

mindthathewantstotalktotheLionabout;’imyoucallAslan.Supposeyouwastolet’imrideonyourback(which’e’dtakeitverykindly)andtrot’imovertowheretheLionis.Andmeandthelittlegirlwillbefollowingalong.”

“Ride?” said Strawberry. “Oh, I remember now. That means sitting on my back. Irememberthereusedtobealittleoneofyoutwo-leggerswhousedtodothatlongago.Heusedtohavelittlehard,squarelumpsofsomewhitestuffthathegaveme.Theytasted—oh,wonderful,sweeterthangrass.”

“Ah,that’dbesugar,”saidtheCabby.

“Please,Strawberry,”beggedDigory,“do,doletmegetupandtakemetoAslan.”

“Well,Idon’tmind,”saidtheHorse.“Notforonceinaway.Upyouget.”

“GoodoldStrawberry,”saidtheCabby.“’Ere,young’un,I’llgiveyoualift.”DigorywassoononStrawberry’sback,andquitecomfortable,forhehadriddenbare-backbeforeonhisownpony.

“Now,dogeeup,Strawberry,”hesaid.

“You don’t happen to have a bit of that white stuff about you, I suppose?” said theHorse.

“No.I’mafraidIhaven’t,”saidDigory.

“Well,itcan’tbehelped,”saidStrawberry,andofftheywent.

AtthatmomentalargeBulldog,whohadbeensniffingandstaringveryhard,said:

“Look.Isn’tthereanotherofthesequeercreatures—overthere,besidetheriver,underthetrees?”

Then all the animals looked and saw Uncle Andrew, standing very still among therhododendronsandhopinghewouldn’tbenoticed.

“Come on!” said several voices. “Let’s go and find out.” So, while Strawberry wasbriskly trotting away with Digory in one direction (and Polly and the Cabby werefollowingonfoot)mostof thecreaturesrushedtowardUncleAndrewwithroars,barks,grunts,andvariousnoisesofcheerfulinterest.

Wemust nowgo back a bit and explainwhat thewhole scene had looked like fromUncleAndrew’spointofview.IthadnotmadeatallthesameimpressiononhimasontheCabbyandthechildren.Forwhatyouseeandheardependsagooddealonwhereyouarestanding:italsodependsonwhatsortofpersonyouare.

Eversincetheanimalshadfirstappeared,UncleAndrewhadbeenshrinkingfurtherandfurtherbackintothethicket.Hewatchedthemveryhardofcourse;buthewasn’treallyinterestedinseeingwhattheyweredoing,onlyinseeingwhethertheyweregoingtomakea rushathim.Like theWitch,hewasdreadfullypractical.He simplydidn’tnotice thatAslanwaschoosingonepairoutofeverykindofbeasts.Allhesaw,orthoughthesaw,wasa lotofdangerouswildanimalswalkingvaguelyabout.Andhekeptonwonderingwhytheotheranimalsdidn’trunawayfromthebigLion.

WhenthegreatmomentcameandtheBeastsspoke,hemissedthewholepoint; fora

ratherinterestingreason.WhentheLionhadfirstbegunsinging,longagowhenitwasstillquitedark,hehadrealizedthatthenoisewasasong.Andhehaddislikedthesongverymuch.Itmadehimthinkandfeelthingshedidnotwanttothinkandfeel.Then,whenthesunroseandhesawthatthesingerwasalion(“onlyalion,”ashesaidtohimself)hetriedhis hardest to make believe that it wasn’t singing and never had been singing—onlyroaringasanylionmightinazooinourownworld.“Ofcourseitcan’treallyhavebeensinging,” he thought, “Imust have imagined it. I’ve been lettingmy nerves get out oforder.Who ever heard of a lion singing?”And the longer andmore beautiful theLionsang, theharderUncleAndrewtriedtomakehimselfbelievethathecouldhearnothingbutroaring.Nowthetroubleabouttryingtomakeyourselfstupiderthanyoureallyareisthatyouveryoftensucceed.UncleAndrewdid.HesoondidhearnothingbutroaringinAslan’ssong.Soonhecouldn’thaveheardanythingelseeven ifhehadwanted to.AndwhenatlasttheLionspokeandsaid,“Narniaawake,”hedidn’thearanywords:heheardonlya snarl.Andwhen theBeasts spoke in answer,heheardonlybarkings,growlings,bayings,andhowlings.Andwhentheylaughed—well,youcanimagine.ThatwasworseforUncleAndrewthananythingthathadhappenedyet.Suchahorrid,bloodthirstydinofhungryandangrybruteshehadneverheardinhislife.Then,tohisutterrageandhorror,hesawtheotherthreehumansactuallywalkingoutintotheopentomeettheanimals.

“The fools!” he said to himself. “Now those bruteswill eat the rings alongwith thechildrenandI’llneverbeabletogethomeagain.WhataselfishlittleboythatDigoryis!And the others are just as bad. If theywant to throw away their own lives, that’s theirbusiness.Butwhataboutme?Theydon’tseemtothinkofthat.Noonethinksofme.”

Finally,whenawholecrowdofanimalscamerushingtowardhim,heturnedandranforhislife.Andnowanyonecouldseethattheairofthatyoungworldwasreallydoingtheold gentlemangood. InLondonhe hadbeen far too old to run: now, he ran at a speedwhichwouldhavemadehimcertaintowinthehundredyards’raceatanyPrepschoolinEngland.Hiscoat-tails flyingoutbehindhimwerea finesight.Butofcourse itwasnouse.Manyoftheanimalsbehindhimwereswiftones; itwasthefirstruntheyhadevertakenintheirlivesandtheywerealllongingtousetheirnewmuscles.“Afterhim!Afterhim!”theyshouted.“Perhapshe’sthatNeevil!Tally-ho!Tantivy!Cuthimoff!Roundhimup!Keepitup!Hurrah!”

In a very fewminutes some of them got ahead of him. They lined up in a row andbarredhisway.Othershemmedhiminfrombehind.Whereverhelookedhesawterrors.Antlersofgreatelksandthehugefaceofanelephanttoweredoverhim.Heavy,serious-

minded bears and boars grunted behind him. Cool-looking leopards and panthers withsarcasticfaces(ashethought)staredathimandwavedtheirtails.Whatstruckhimmostof allwas the number of openmouths. The animals had really opened theirmouths topant;hethoughttheyhadopenedtheirmouthstoeathim.

Uncle Andrew stood trembling and swaying this way and that. He had never likedanimalsat thebestof times,beingusually ratherafraidof them;andofcourseyearsofdoingcruelexperimentsonanimalshadmadehimhateandfearthemfarmore.

“Now, sir,” said theBulldog in his business-likeway, “are you animal, vegetable, ormineral?”Thatwaswhatitreallysaid;butallUncleAndrewheardwas“Gr-r-r-arrh-ow!”

ElevenDIGORYANDHISUNCLEAREBOTHINTROUBLEYOUMAYTHINKTHEANIMALSWEREverystupidnottoseeatoncethatUncleAndrewwasthesamekindofcreatureasthetwochildrenandtheCabby.Butyoumustremember that the animalsknewnothing about clothes.They thought thatPolly’s frockandDigory’sNorfolksuitandtheCabby’sbowlerhatwereasmuchpartsofthemastheirown fur and feathers. Theywouldn’t have known even that those threewere all of thesamekind if theyhadn’t spoken to themand ifStrawberryhadnot seemed to think so.AndUncleAndrewwasagreatdealtallerthanthechildrenandagooddealthinnerthantheCabby.Hewasallinblackexceptforhiswhitewaistcoat(notverywhitebynow),andthegreatgraymopofhishair(nowverywildindeed)didn’t looktothemlikeanythingthey had seen in the three other humans. So it was only natural that they should bepuzzled.Worstofall,hedidn’tseemtobeabletotalk.

Hehadtriedto.WhentheBulldogspoketohim(or,ashethought,firstsnarledandthengrowledathim)heheldouthisshakinghandandgasped“GoodDoggie, then,pooroldfellow.”Butthebeastscouldnotunderstandhimanymorethanhecouldunderstandthem.Theydidn’thearanywords:onlyavaguesizzlingnoise.Perhapsitwasjustaswelltheydidn’t,fornodogthatIeverknew,leastofallaTalkingDogofNarnia,likesbeingcalledaGoodDoggiethen;anymorethanyouwouldlikebeingcalledMyLittleMan.

ThenUncleAndrewdroppeddowninadeadfaint.

“There!”saidaWarthog,“it’sonlyatree.Ialwaysthoughtso.”(Remember,theyhadneveryetseenafaintorevenafall.)

TheBulldog,whohadbeensniffingUncleAndrewallover, raised itsheadandsaid,“It’sananimal.Certainlyananimal.Andprobablythesamekindasthoseotherones.”

“Idon’tsee that,”saidoneof theBears.“Ananimalwouldn’t justrollover like that.We’reanimalsandwedon’trollover.Westandup.Likethis.”Herosetohishindlegs,

tookastepbackward,trippedoveralowbranchandfellflatonhisback.

“TheThirdJoke,theThirdJoke,theThirdJoke!”saidtheJackdawingreatexcitement.

“Istillthinkit’sasortoftree,”saidtheWarthog.

“Ifit’satree,”saidtheotherBear,“theremightbeabees’nestinit.”

“I’msure it’snota tree,”said theBadger.“Ihadasortof ideaitwastryingtospeakbeforeittoppledover.”

“Thatwasonlythewindinitsbranches,”saidtheWarthog.

“Yousurelydon’tmean,”saidtheJackdawtotheBadger,“thatyouthinkit’satalkinganimal!Itdidn’tsayanywords.”

“Andyet,youknow,”saidtheElephant(theShe-Elephant,ofcourse;herhusband,asyou remember, had been called away by Aslan). “And yet, you know, it might be ananimalofsomekind.Mightn’tthewhitishlumpatthisendbeasortofface?Andcouldn’tthoseholesbeeyesandamouth?Nonose,ofcourse.Butthen—ahem—onemustn’tbenarrow-minded.VeryfewofushavewhatcouldexactlybecalledaNose.”Shesquinteddownthelengthofherowntrunkwithpardonablepride.

“Iobjecttothatremarkverystrongly,”saidtheBulldog.

“TheElephantisquiteright,”saidtheTapir.

“Itellyouwhat!”saidtheDonkeybrightly,“perhapsit’sananimalthatcan’ttalkbutthinksitcan.”

“Canitbemadetostandup?”saidtheElephantthoughtfully.ShetookthelimpformofUncleAndrewgentlyinhertrunkandsethimuponend:upsidedown,unfortunately,sothat twohalf-sovereigns, threehalf-crowns,andasixpence felloutofhispocket.But itwasnouse.UncleAndrewmerelycollapsedagain.

“There!”saidseveralvoices.“Itisn’tananimalatall.It’snotalive.”

“Itellyou,itisananimal,”saidtheBulldog.“Smellitforyourself.”

“Smellingisn’teverything,”saidtheElephant.

“Why,”saidtheBulldog,“ifafellowcan’ttrusthisnose,whatishetotrust?”

“Well,hisbrains,perhaps,”sherepliedmildly.

“Iobjecttothatremarkverystrongly,”saidtheBulldog.

“Well, we must do something about it,” said the Elephant. “Because it may be theNeevil, and it must be shown to Aslan.What domost of us think? Is it an animal orsomethingofthetreekind?”

“Tree!Tree!”saidadozenvoices.

“Verywell,”saidtheElephant.“Then,ifit’satreeitwantstobeplanted.Wemustdigahole.”

ThetwoMolessettledthatpartofthebusinessprettyquickly.TherewassomedisputeastowhichwayupUncleAndrewoughttobeputintothehole,andhehadaverynarrow

escape from being put in head foremost. Several animals said his legs must be hisbranchesandthereforethegray,fluffything(theymeanthishead)mustbehisroot.Butthenotherssaidthattheforkedendofhimwasthemuddierandthatitspreadoutmore,asrootsoughttodo.Sofinallyhewasplantedrightwayup.Whentheyhadpatteddowntheearthitcameupabovehisknees.

“Itlooksdreadfullywithered,”saidtheDonkey.

“Ofcourseitwantssomewatering,”saidtheElephant.

“IthinkImightsay(meaningnooffensetoanyonepresent)that,perhaps,forthatsortofwork,mykindofnose—”

“I object to that remark very strongly,” said the Bulldog. But the Elephant walkedquietlytotheriver,filledhertrunkwithwater,andcamebacktoattendtoUncleAndrew.Thesagaciousanimalwentondoingthistillgallonsofwaterhadbeensquirtedoverhim,andwaterwasrunningoutoftheskirtsofhisfrock-coatasifhehadbeenforabathwithallhisclotheson.Intheenditrevivedhim.Heawokefromhisfaint.Whatawakeningitwas!Butwemustleavehimtothinkoverhiswickeddeed(ifhewaslikelytodoanythingsosensible)andturntomoreimportantthings.

Strawberry trottedonwithDigoryonhisback till thenoiseof theotheranimalsdiedaway,andnowthelittlegroupofAslanandhischosencouncillorswasquiteclose.Digoryknewthathecouldn’tpossiblybreakinonsosolemnameeting,buttherewasnoneedtodoso.AtawordfromAslan,theHe-Elephant,theRavens,andalltherestofthemdrewaside.DigoryslippedoffthehorseandfoundhimselffacetofacewithAslan.AndAslanwas bigger andmore beautiful andmore brightly golden andmore terrible than he hadthought.Hedarednotlookintothegreateyes.

“Please—Mr. Lion—Aslan—Sir,” saidDigory, “could you—may I—please, will yougivemesomemagicfruitofthiscountrytomakeMotherwell?”

Hehadbeendesperatelyhoping that theLionwouldsay“Yes”;hehadbeenhorriblyafraiditmightsay“No.”Buthewastakenabackwhenitdidneither.

“ThisistheBoy,”saidAslan,looking,notatDigory,butathiscouncillors.“ThisistheBoywhodidit.”

“Ohdear,”thoughtDigory,“whathaveIdonenow?”

“Son of Adam,” said the Lion. “There is an evil Witch abroad in my new land ofNarnia.TellthesegoodBeastshowshecamehere.”

Adozendifferent things thathemightsayflashed throughDigory’smind,buthehadthesensetosaynothingexcepttheexacttruth.

“Ibroughther,Aslan,”heansweredinalowvoice.

“Forwhatpurpose?”

“Iwantedtogetheroutofmyownworldbackintoherown.IthoughtIwastakingherbacktoherownplace.”

“Howcameshetobeinyourworld,SonofAdam?”

“By—byMagic.”

TheLionsaidnothingandDigoryknewthathehadnottoldenough.

“ItwasmyUncle,Aslan,”hesaid.“Hesentusoutofourownworldbymagicrings,atleastIhadtogobecausehesentPollyfirst,andthenwemettheWitchinaplacecalledCharnandshejustheldontouswhen—”

“YoumettheWitch?”saidAslaninalowvoicewhichhadthethreatofagrowlinit.

“Shewokeup,”saidDigorywretchedly.Andthen,turningverywhite,“Imean,Iwokeher.BecauseIwantedtoknowwhatwouldhappenifIstruckabell.Pollydidn’twantto.Itwasn’therfault.I—Ifoughther.IknowIshouldn’thave.IthinkIwasabitenchantedbythewritingunderthebell.”

“Doyou?”askedAslan;stillspeakingverylowanddeep.

“No,”saidDigory.“IseenowIwasn’t.Iwasonlypretending.”

Therewasalongpause.AndDigorywasthinkingallthetime,“I’vespoiledeverything.There’snochanceofgettinganythingforMothernow.”

WhentheLionspokeagain,itwasnottoDigory.

“Yousee,friends,”hesaid,“thatbeforethenew,cleanworldIgaveyouissevenhoursold,aforceofevilhasalreadyenteredit;wakedandbroughthitherbythissonofAdam.”TheBeasts,evenStrawberry,allturnedtheireyesonDigorytillhefeltthathewishedthegroundwouldswallowhimup.“Butdonotbecastdown,”saidAslan,stillspeakingtotheBeasts.“Evilwillcomeofthatevil,butitisstillalongwayoff,andIwillseetoitthattheworst fallsuponmyself. In themeantime, letus take suchorder that formanyhundredyearsyet thisshallbeamerrylandinamerryworld.AndasAdam’sracehasdonetheharm,Adam’sraceshallhelptohealit.Drawnear,youothertwo.”

The lastwordswere spoken to Polly and theCabbywho had now arrived. Polly, alleyes andmouth,was staring atAslan and holding theCabby’s hand rather tightly.TheCabbygaveoneglanceattheLion,andtookoffhisbowlerhat:noonehadyetseenhimwithoutit.Whenitwasoff,helookedyoungerandnicer,andmorelikeacountrymanandlesslikeaLondoncabman.

“Son,”saidAslantotheCabby,“Ihaveknownyoulong.Doyouknowme?”

“Well,no,sir,”saidtheCabby.“Leastways,notinanordinarymannerofspeaking.YetIfeelsomehow,ifImaymakesofree,as’owwe’vemetbefore.”

“It iswell,”said theLion.“Youknowbetter thanyou thinkyouknow,andyoushalllivetoknowmebetteryet.Howdoesthislandpleaseyou?”

“It’safairtreat,sir,”saidtheCabby.

“Wouldyouliketoliveherealways?”

“Wellyouseesir,I’mamarriedman,”saidtheCabby.“IfmywifewashereneitherofuswouldeverwanttogobacktoLondon,Ireckon.We’rebothcountryfolks,really.”

Aslanthrewuphisshaggyhead,openedhismouth,andutteredalong,singlenote;notveryloud,butfullofpower.Polly’sheartjumpedinherbodywhensheheardit.Shefeltsure that itwas a call, and that anyonewho heard that callwouldwant to obey it and(what’smore)wouldbeabletoobeyit,howevermanyworldsandageslaybetween.Andso,thoughshewasfilledwithwonder,shewasnotreallyastonishedorshockedwhenallofasuddenayoungwoman,withakind,honestfacesteppedoutofnowhereandstoodbesideher.PollyknewatoncethatitwastheCabby’swife,fetchedoutofourworldnotbyanytiresomemagicrings,butquickly,simplyandsweetlyasabirdfliestoitsnest.Theyoungwomanhadapparentlybeeninthemiddleofawashingday,forsheworeanapron,hersleeveswererolleduptotheelbow,andthereweresoapsudsonherhands.Ifshehadhadtimetoputonhergoodclothes(herbesthathadimitationcherriesonit)shewouldhavelookeddreadful;asitwas,shelookedrathernice.

Ofcourseshe thoughtshewasdreaming.Thatwaswhyshedidn’t rushacross toherhusbandandaskhimwhatonearthhadhappenedtothemboth.Butwhenshelookedatthe Lion she didn’t feel quite so sure itwas a dream, yet for some reason she did notappeartobeveryfrightened.Thenshedroppedalittlehalfcurtsey,assomecountrygirlsstillknewhowtodointhosedays.Afterthat,shewentandputherhandintheCabby’sandstoodtherelookingroundheralittleshyly.

“Mychildren,”saidAslan,fixinghiseyesonbothofthem,“youaretobethefirstKingandQueenofNarnia.”

TheCabbyopenedhismouthinastonishment,andhiswifeturnedveryred.

“Youshall ruleandnameall thesecreatures, anddo justiceamong them,andprotectthemfromtheirenemieswhenenemiesarise.Andenemieswillarise,forthereisanevilWitchinthisworld.”

TheCabbyswallowedhardtwoorthreetimesandclearedhisthroat.

“Beggingyourpardon,sir,”hesaid,“andthankingyouverymuchI’msure(whichmyMissus does the same) but I ain’t no sort of chap for a job like that. I never ’admucheddycation,yousee.”

“Well,”saidAslan,“canyouuseaspadeandaplowandraisefoodoutoftheearth?”

“Yes,sir,Icoulddoabitofthatsortofwork:beingbroughtuptoit,like.”

“Canyou rule thesecreatureskindlyand fairly, remembering that theyarenot slaveslikethedumbbeastsoftheworldyouwerebornin,butTalkingBeastsandfreesubjects?”

“Iseethat,sir,”repliedtheCabby.“I’dtrytodothesquarethingbythemall.”

“Andwouldyoubringupyourchildrenandgrandchildrentodothesame?”

“It’dbeuptometotry,sir.I’ddomybest:wouldn’twe,Nellie?”

“Andyouwouldn’thavefavoriteseitheramongyourownchildrenoramongtheothercreaturesorletanyholdanotherunderoruseithardly?”

“Inevercouldabidesuchgoingson,sir,andthat’sthetruth.I’dgive’emwhatforifIcaught ’emat it,” said theCabby. (All through thisconversationhisvoicewasgrowingslowerandricher.Morelikethecountryvoicehemusthavehadasaboyandlesslikethesharp,quickvoiceofacockney.)

“And if enemies came against the land (for enemies will arise) and there was war,wouldyoubethefirstinthechargeandthelastintheretreat?”

“Well,sir,”saidtheCabbyveryslowly,“achapdon’texactlyknowtillhe’sbeentried.IdaresayImightturnouteversuchasoft’un.Neverdidnofightingexceptwithmyfists.

I’dtry—thatis,I’opeI’dtry—todomybit.”

“Then,”saidAslan,“youwillhavedoneallthataKingshoulddo.Yourcoronationwillbe held presently. And you and your children and grandchildren shall be blessed, andsomewillbeKingsofNarnia,andotherswillbeKingsofArchenlandwhichliesyonderover the SouthernMountains. And you, little Daughter” (here he turned to Polly) “arewelcome.HaveyouforgiventheBoyfortheviolencehedidyouintheHallofImagesinthedesolatepalaceofaccursedCharn?”

“Yes,Aslan,we’vemadeitup,”saidPolly.

“Thatiswell,”saidAslan.“AndnowfortheBoyhimself.”

TwelveSTRAWBERRY’SADVENTUREDIGORYKEPTHISMOUTHVERYTIGHT shut.He had been growingmore andmoreuncomfortable.Hehopedthat,whateverhappened,hewouldn’tblubordoanythingridiculous.

“SonofAdam,”saidAslan.“AreyoureadytoundothewrongthatyouhavedonetomysweetcountryofNarniaontheverydayofitsbirth?”

“Well,Idon’tseewhatIcando,”saidDigory.“Yousee,theQueenranawayand—”

“Iasked,areyouready?”saidtheLion.

“Yes,”saidDigory.Hehadhadforasecondsomewildideaofsaying“I’lltrytohelpyouifyou’llpromisetohelpmyMother,”butherealizedintimethattheLionwasnotatallthesortofpersononecouldtrytomakebargainswith.Butwhenhehadsaid“Yes,”hethoughtofhisMother,andhethoughtofthegreathopeshehadhad,andhowtheywerealldyingaway,andalumpcameinhisthroatandtearsinhiseyes,andheblurtedout:

“Butplease,please—won’tyou—can’tyougivemesomethingthatwillcureMother?”UptillthenhehadbeenlookingattheLion’sgreatfeetandthehugeclawsonthem;now,inhisdespair,helookedupatitsface.Whathesawsurprisedhimasmuchasanythinginhiswholelife.Forthetawnyfacewasbentdownnearhisownand(wonderofwonders)great shining tears stood in theLion’s eyes.Theywere suchbig, bright tears comparedwithDigory’sownthatforamomenthefeltasiftheLionmustreallybesorrierabouthisMotherthanhewashimself.

“Myson,myson,”saidAslan.“Iknow.Griefisgreat.OnlyyouandIinthislandknowthatyet.Letusbegoodtooneanother.ButIhavetothinkofhundredsofyearsinthelifeofNarnia.TheWitchwhomyouhavebrought into thisworldwillcomebacktoNarniaagain.Butitneednotbeyet.ItismywishtoplantinNarniaatreethatshewillnotdaretoapproach, and that treewill protectNarnia from her formany years. So this land shallhavea long,brightmorningbeforeanycloudscomeover thesun.Youmustgetmetheseedfromwhichthattreeistogrow.”

“Yes,sir,”saidDigory.Hedidn’tknowhowitwastobedonebuthefeltquitesurenowthathewouldbeabletodoit.TheLiondrewadeepbreath,stoopeditsheadevenlowerandgavehimaLion’skiss.AndatonceDigory felt thatnewstrengthandcouragehadgoneintohim.

“Dearson,”saidAslan,“Iwill tellyouwhatyoumustdo.Turnandlookto theWestandtellmewhatdoyousee?”

“Iseeterriblybigmountains,Aslan,”saidDigory.“Iseethisrivercomingdowncliffsin awaterfall.Andbeyond thecliff there arehighgreenhillswith forests.Andbeyondthose there are higher ranges that look almost black.And then, far away, there are bigsnowymountains all heaped up together—like pictures of the Alps. And behind thosethere’snothingbutthesky.”

“Youseewell,”saidtheLion.“NowthelandofNarniaendswherethewaterfallcomesdown,andonceyouhavereachedthetopofthecliffsyouwillbeoutofNarniaandintotheWesternWild.Youmustjourneythroughthosemountainstillyoufindagreenvalleywithabluelakeinit,walledroundbymountainsofice.Attheendofthelakethereisasteep,greenhill.Onthetopofthathillthereisagarden.Inthecenterofthatgardenisatree.Pluckanapplefromthattreeandbringitbacktome.”

“Yes,sir,”saidDigoryagain.Hehadn’ttheleastideaofhowhewastoclimbthecliffandfindhiswayamongallthemountains,buthedidn’tliketosaythatforfearitwouldsoundlikemakingexcuses.Buthedidsay,“Ihope,Aslan,you’renotinahurry.Ishan’tbeabletogetthereandbackveryquickly.”

“LittlesonofAdam,youshallhavehelp,”saidAslan.HethenturnedtotheHorsewhohadbeenstandingquietlybesidethemallthistime,swishinghistailtokeepthefliesoff,and listening with his head on one side as if the conversation were a little difficult tounderstand.

“Mydear,”saidAslantotheHorse,“wouldyouliketobeawingedhorse?”

YoushouldhaveseenhowtheHorseshookitsmaneandhowitsnostrilswidened,andthelittletapitgavethegroundwithonebackhoof.Clearlyitwouldverymuchliketobeawingedhorse.Butitonlysaid:

“Ifyouwish,Aslan—ifyoureallymean—Idon’tknowwhyitshouldbeme—I’mnotaverycleverhorse.”

“Bewinged.Bethefatherofallflyinghorses,”roaredAslaninavoicethatshooktheground.“YournameisFledge.”

Thehorseshied,justasitmighthaveshiedintheold,miserabledayswhenitpulledahansom.Thenitroared.Itstraineditsneckbackasiftherewereaflybitingitsshouldersanditwantedtoscratchthem.Andthen,justasthebeastshadburstoutoftheearth,thereburst out from the shoulders ofFledgewings that spread andgrew, larger than eagles’,larger than swans’, larger than angels’ wings in church windows. The feathers shonechestnutcolorandcoppercolor.Hegaveagreatsweepwiththemandleapedintotheair.Twenty feet above Aslan and Digory he snorted, neighed, and curvetted. Then, aftercircling once round them, he dropped to the earth, all four hoofs together, lookingawkwardandsurprised,butextremelypleased.

“Isitgood,Fledge?”saidAslan.

“Itisverygood,Aslan,”saidFledge.

“WillyoucarrythislittlesonofAdamonyourbacktothemountain-valleyIspokeof?”

“What? Now? At once?” said Strawberry—or Fledge, as we must now call him—“Hurrah!Comeon littleone, I’vehad things likeyouonmybackbefore.Long, longago.Whenthereweregreenfields;andsugar.”

“What are the two daughters of Eve whispering about?” said Aslan, turning verysuddenlyonPollyandtheCabby’swife,whohadinfactbeenmakingfriends.

“Ifyouplease,sir,”saidQueenHelen(for that iswhatNellie thecabman’swifenowwas),“Ithinkthelittlegirlwouldlovetogotoo,ifitweren’tnotrouble.”

“WhatdoesFledgesayaboutthat?”askedtheLion.

“Oh, I don’t mind two, not when they’re little ones,” said Fledge. “But I hope theElephantdoesn’twanttocomeaswell.”

TheElephanthadnosuchwish,andthenewKingofNarniahelpedboththechildrenup: that is, he gave Digory a rough heave and set Polly as gently and daintily on thehorse’sbackasifsheweremadeofchinaandmightbreak.“Theretheyare,Strawberry—Fledge,Ishouldsay.Thisisarumgo.”

“Do not fly too high,” saidAslan. “Do not try to go over the tops of the great ice-mountains.Lookout for thevalleys, thegreenplaces, and fly through them.Therewillalwaysbeawaythrough.Andnow,begonewithmyblessing.”

“OhFledge!”saidDigory,leaningforwardtopattheHorse’sglossyneck.“Thisisfun.Holdontometight,Polly.”

Nextmoment the countrydroppedawaybeneath them, andwhirled roundasFledge,likeahugepigeon,circledonceor twicebeforesettingoffonhis longwestward flight.Lookingdown,Pollycouldhardlysee theKingand theQueen,andevenAslanhimselfwasonlyabrightyellowspoton thegreengrass.Soon thewindwas in their facesandFledge’swingssettleddowntoasteadybeat.

AllNarnia,many-coloredwithlawnsandrocksandheatheranddifferentsortsoftrees,layspreadoutbelowthem,theriverwindingthroughitlikearibbonofquicksilver.Theycouldalreadyseeoverthetopsofthelowhillswhichlaynorthwardontheirright;beyondthose hills a great moorland sloped gently up and up to the horizon. On their left themountainsweremuchhigher,buteverynowandthentherewasagapwhenyoucouldsee,betweensteeppinewoods,aglimpseofthesouthernlandsthatlaybeyondthem,lookingblueandfaraway.

“That’llbewhereArchenlandis,”saidPolly.

“Yes,butlookahead!”saidDigory.

Fornowagreatbarrierofcliffsrosebeforethemandtheywerealmostdazzledbythesunlightdancingon thegreatwaterfallbywhich the river roars and sparklesdown intoNarnia itself from the high western lands in which it rises. They were flying so highalreadythatthethunderofthosefallscouldonlyjustbeheardasasmall,thinsound,buttheywerenotyethighenoughtoflyoverthetopofthecliffs.

“We’llhavetodoabitofzig-zagginghere,”saidFledge.“Holdontight.”

Hebeganflying toandfro,gettinghigherateach turn.Theairgrewcolder,and theyheardthecallofeaglesfarbelowthem.

“Isay,lookback!Lookbehind,”saidPolly.

TheretheycouldseethewholevalleyofNarniastretchedouttowhere,justbeforetheeasternhorizon,therewasagleamofthesea.Andnowtheyweresohighthattheycouldsee tiny-lookingjaggedmountainsappearingbeyondthenorthwestmoors,andplainsofwhatlookedlikesandfarinthesouth.

“Iwishwehadsomeonetotelluswhatallthoseplacesare,”saidDigory.

“Idon’tsupposethey’reanywhereyet,”saidPolly.“Imean,there’snoonethere,andnothinghappening.Theworldonlybegantoday.”

“No, but peoplewill get there,” said Digory. “And then they’ll have histories, youknow.”

“Well, it’s a jollygood thing theyhaven’tnow,” saidPolly. “Becausenobodycanbemadetolearnit.Battlesanddatesandallthatrot.”

NowtheywereoverthetopofthecliffsandinafewminutesthevalleylandofNarniahadsunkoutofsightbehindthem.Theywereflyingoverawildcountryofsteephillsanddark forests, still following the course of the river. The really big mountains loomedahead.Butthesunwasnowinthetravelers’eyesandtheycouldn’tseethingsveryclearlyin thatdirection.For thesunsank lowerand lower till thewesternskywasall likeonegreatfurnacefullofmeltedgold;anditsetat lastbehinda jaggedpeakwhichstoodup

againstthebrightnessassharpandflatasifitwerecutoutofcardboard.

“It’snonetoowarmuphere,”saidPolly.

“Andmywingsarebeginningtoache,”saidFledge.“There’snosignofthevalleywithaLakeinit,likewhatAslansaid.Whataboutcomingdownandlookingoutforadecentspottospendthenightin?Weshan’treachthatplacetonight.”

“Yes,andsurelyit’sabouttimeforsupper?”saidDigory.

SoFledgecamelowerandlower.Astheycamedownnearertotheearthandamongthehills,theairgrewwarmerandaftertravelingsomanyhourswithnothingtolistentobutthebeatofFledge’swings, itwasnice tohear thehomelyandearthynoisesagain—thechatteroftheriveronitsstonybedandthecreakingoftreesinthelightwind.Awarm,good smell of sun-baked earth and grass and flowers came up to them.At last Fledgealighted.DigoryrolledoffandhelpedPollytodismount.Bothweregladtostretchtheirstifflegs.

The valley inwhich they had come downwas in the heart of themountains; snowyheights,oneofthemlookingrose-redinthereflectionsofthesunset,toweredabovethem.

“Iamhungry,”saidDigory.

“Well, tuck in,”saidFledge, takingabigmouthfulofgrass.Thenhe raisedhishead,stillchewingandwithbitsofgrassstickingoutoneachsideofhismouthlikewhiskers,andsaid,“Comeon,youtwo.Don’tbeshy.There’splentyforusall.”

“Butwecan’teatgrass,”saidDigory.

“H’m,h’m,”saidFledge,speakingwithhismouthfull.“Well—h’m—don’tknowquitewhatyou’lldothen.Verygoodgrasstoo.”

PollyandDigorystaredatoneanotherindismay.

“Well,Idothinksomeonemighthavearrangedaboutourmeals,”saidDigory.

“I’msureAslanwouldhave,ifyou’daskedhim,”saidFledge.

“Wouldn’theknowwithoutbeingasked?”saidPolly.

“I’venodoubthewould,”saidtheHorse(stillwithhismouthfull).“ButI’veasortofideahelikestobeasked.”

“Butwhatoneartharewetodo?”askedDigory.

“I’msureIdon’tknow,”saidFledge.“Unlessyoutrythegrass.Youmightlikeitbetterthanyouthink.”

“Oh,don’tbesilly,”saidPolly,stampingherfoot.“Ofcoursehumanscan’teatgrass,anymorethanyoucouldeatamuttonchop.”

“Forgoodness’sakedon’ttalkaboutchopsandthings,”saidDigory.“Itonlymakesitworse.”

Digory said thatPollyhadbetter takeherself homeby ring andget something to eatthere; he couldn’t himself because he had promised to go straight on his message forAslan, and, if oncehe showedupagain at home, anythingmighthappen topreventhisgettingback.ButPollysaidshewouldn’tleavehim,andDigorysaiditwasjollydecentofher.

“Isay,”saidPolly,“I’vestillgottheremainsofthatbagoftoffeeinmyjacket.It’llbebetterthannothing.”

“Alotbetter,”saidDigory,“butbecareful togetyourhand intoyourpocketwithouttouchingyourring.”

Thiswasadifficultanddelicatejobbuttheymanageditintheend.Thelittlepaperbagwasverysquashyandstickywhentheyfinallygotitout,sothatitwasmoreaquestionoftearingthebagoffthetoffeesthanofgettingthetoffeesoutofthebag.Somegrown-ups(youknowhowfussytheycanbeaboutthatsortofthing)wouldratherhavegonewithoutsupperaltogetherthaneatenthosetoffees.Therewerenineofthemalltold.ItwasDigorywhohadthebrightideaofeatingfoureachandplantingtheninth;for,ashesaid,“ifthebaroff the lamp-post turned intoa little light-tree,whyshouldn’t this turn intoa toffee-tree?”Sotheydibbledasmallholeintheturfandburiedthepieceoftoffee.Thentheyatetheotherpieces,makingthemlastaslongastheycould.Itwasapoormeal,evenwithallthepapertheycouldn’thelpeatingaswell.

WhenFledge had quite finished his own excellent supper he lay down.The childrencameandsatoneoneachsideofhimleaningagainsthiswarmbody,andwhenhehadspreadawingovereachtheywerereallyquitesnug.Asthebrightyoungstarsofthatnewworldcameouttheytalkedovereverything:howDigoryhadhopedtogetsomethingforhisMotherandhow,insteadofthat,hehadbeensentonthismessage.Andtheyrepeatedtooneanotherallthesignsbywhichtheywouldknowtheplacestheywerelookingfor—thebluelakeandthehillwithagardenontopofit.Thetalkwasjustbeginningtoslowdownastheygotsleepy,whensuddenlyPollysatupwideawakeandsaid“Hush!”

Everyonelistenedashardastheycould.

“Perhapsitwasonlythewindinthetrees,”saidDigorypresently.

“I’mnot so sure,” saidFledge. “Anyway—wait!There it goes again.ByAslan, it issomething.”

The horse scrambled to its feetwith a great noise and a great upheaval; the childrenwere already on theirs. Fledge trotted to and fro, sniffing andwhinnying. The childrentiptoedthiswayandthat,lookingbehindeverybushandtree.Theykeptonthinkingtheysawthings,andtherewasonetimewhenPollywasperfectlycertainshehadseenatall,darkfigureglidingquicklyawayinawesterlydirection.Buttheycaughtnothingandinthe end Fledge lay down again and the children re-snuggled (if that is the rightword)underhiswings.Theywenttosleepatonce.Fledgestayedawakemuchlongermovinghisearstoandfrointhedarknessandsometimesgivingalittleshiverwithhisskinasifaflyhadlightedonhim:butintheendhetooslept.

ThirteenANUNEXPECTEDMEETING“WAKEUP,DIGORY,WAKEUP,FLEDGE,”camethevoiceofPolly.“Ithas turnedintoatoffeetree.Andit’stheloveliestmorning.”

The lowearlysunshinewasstreaming through thewoodand thegrasswasgraywithdew and the cobwebswere like silver. Just beside themwas a little, very dark-woodedtree,about thesizeofanapple tree.The leaveswerewhitishandratherpapery, like theherbcalledhonesty,anditwasloadedwithlittlebrownfruitsthatlookedratherlikedates.

“Hurrah!” said Digory. “But I’m going to have a dip first.” He rushed through aflowering thicketor twodown to the river’s edge.Haveyoueverbathed inamountainriverthatisrunninginshallowcataractsoverredandblueandyellowstoneswiththesunonit?Itisasgoodasthesea:insomewaysalmostbetter.Ofcourse,hehadtodressagainwithoutdryingbutitwaswellworthit.Whenhecameback,Pollywentdownandhadherbathe;atleastshesaidthatwaswhatshe’dbeendoing,butweknowshewasnotmuchofaswimmerandperhapsit isbestnottoasktoomanyquestions.Fledgevisitedtherivertoo but he only stood inmidstream, stooping down for a long drink ofwater and thenshakinghismaneandneighingseveraltimes.

PollyandDigorygottoworkonthetoffee-tree.Thefruitwasdelicious;notexactlyliketoffee—softer for one thing, and juicy—but like fruit which reminded one of toffee.Fledgealsomadeanexcellentbreakfast;hetriedoneofthetoffeefruitsandlikeditbutsaid he feltmore like grass at that hour in themorning. Thenwith some difficulty thechildrengotonhisbackandthesecondjourneybegan.

Itwas even better than yesterday, partly because everyonewas feeling so fresh, andpartly because the newly risen sunwas at their backs and, of course, everything looksnicerwhenthelightisbehindyou.Itwasawonderfulride.Thebigsnowymountainsroseabovethemineverydirection.Thevalleys,farbeneaththem,weresogreen,andall thestreamswhichtumbleddownfromtheglaciersintothemainriverweresoblue,thatitwaslike flying over gigantic pieces of jewelry. They would have liked this part of theadventure to go on longer than it did.But quite soon theywere all sniffing the air andsaying“Whatisit?”and“Didyousmellsomething?”and“Where’sitcomingfrom?”Foraheavenlysmell,warmandgolden,asiffromallthemostdeliciousfruitsandflowersoftheworld,wascominguptothemfromsomewhereahead.

“It’scomingfromthatvalleywiththelakeinit,”saidFledge.

“Soitis,”saidDigory.“Andlook!There’sagreenhillatthefarendofthelake.Andlookhowbluethewateris.”

“ItmustbethePlace,”saidallthree.

Fledgecamelowerandlowerinwidecircles.Theicypeaksroseuphigherandhigherabove. The air came up warmer and sweeter every moment, so sweet that it almostbrought the tears toyoureyes.Fledgewasnowglidingwithhisgreatwings spreadoutmotionlessoneachside,andhishoofspawing for theground.Thesteepgreenhillwasrushing toward them.Amoment later he alighted on its slope, a little awkwardly. Thechildrenrolledoff,fellwithouthurtingthemselvesonthewarm,finegrass,andstooduppantingalittle.

Theywereaboutthree-quartersofthewayupthehill,andsetoutatoncetoclimbtothetop.(Idon’tthinkFledgecouldhavemanagedthiswithouthiswingstobalancehimandtogivehimthehelpofaflutternowandthen.)Allroundtheverytopofthehillranahighwallofgreenturf.Insidethewall treesweregrowing.Theirbrancheshungoutoverthewall; their leaves showednotonlygreenbut alsoblueand silverwhen thewind stirredthem.Whenthetravelersreachedthetoptheywalkednearlyallthewayrounditoutsidethegreenwallbeforetheyfoundthegates:highgatesofgold,fastshut,facingdueeast.

UptillnowIthinkFledgeandPollyhadhadtheideathattheywouldgoinwithDigory.Buttheythoughtsonolonger.Youneversawaplacewhichwassoobviouslyprivate.Youcouldseeataglancethatitbelongedtosomeoneelse.Onlyafoolwoulddreamofgoinginunlesshehadbeensent thereonveryspecialbusiness.Digoryhimselfunderstoodatoncethattheotherswouldn’tandcouldn’tcomeinwithhim.Hewentforwardtothegatesalone.

When he had come close up to them he saw words written on the gold with silverletters;somethinglikethis:

Comeinbythegoldgatesornotatall,Takeofmyfruitforothersorforbear,

ForthosewhostealorthosewhoclimbmywallShallfindtheirheart’sdesireandfinddespair.

“Takeofmyfruitforothers,”saidDigorytohimself.“Well,that’swhatI’mgoingtodo.ItmeansImustn’teatanymyself,Isuppose.Idon’tknowwhatallthatjawinthelastlineisabout.Comeinbythegoldgates.Wellwho’dwanttoclimbawallifhecouldgetinbyagate!Buthowdothegatesopen?”Helaidhishandonthemandinstantlytheyswungapart,openinginward,turningontheirhingeswithouttheleastnoise.

Nowthathecouldseeintotheplaceitlookedmoreprivatethanever.Hewentinverysolemnly,lookingabouthim.Everythingwasveryquietinside.Eventhefountainwhichrosenearthemiddleofthegardenmadeonlythefaintestsound.Thelovelysmellwasallroundhim:itwasahappyplacebutveryserious.

Heknewwhichwastherighttreeatonce,partlybecauseitstoodintheverycenterandpartlybecausethegreatsilverappleswithwhichitwasloadedshonesoandcastalightoftheir own down on the shadowy places where the sunlight did not reach. He walkedstraightacrosstoit,pickedanapple,andputitinthebreastpocketofhisNorfolkjacket.Buthecouldn’thelplookingatitandsmellingitbeforeheputitaway.

Itwouldhavebeenbetterifhehadnot.Aterriblethirstandhungercameoverhimandalongingtotastethatfruit.Heputithastilyintohispocket;buttherewereplentyofothers.Coulditbewrongtotasteone?Afterall,hethought,thenoticeonthegatemightnothavebeenexactlyanorder; itmighthavebeenonlyapieceofadvice—andwhocaresaboutadvice?Orevenifitwereanorder,wouldhebedisobeyingitbyeatinganapple?Hehadalreadyobeyedthepartabouttakingone“forothers.”

Whilehewasthinkingofallthishehappenedtolookupthroughthebranchestowardthetopofthetree.There,onabranchabovehishead,awonderfulbirdwasroosting.Isay“roosting”becauseitseemedalmostasleep;perhapsnotquite.Thetiniestslitofoneeyewasopen.Itwaslargerthananeagle,itsbreastsaffron,itsheadcrestedwithscarlet,anditstailpurple.

“Anditjustshows,”saidDigoryafterwardwhenhewastellingthestorytotheothers,“that you can’t be too careful in these magical places. You never know what may bewatchingyou.”ButIthinkDigorywouldnothavetakenanappleforhimselfinanycase.ThingslikeDoNotStealwere,Ithink,hammeredintoboys’headsagooddealharderinthosedaysthantheyarenow.Still,wecanneverbecertain.

Digorywasjustturningtogobacktothegateswhenhestoppedtohaveonelastlookround.Hegotaterribleshock.Hewasnotalone.There,onlyafewyardsawayfromhim,stood theWitch.Shewas just throwingaway thecoreofanapplewhichshehadeaten.Thejuicewasdarkerthanyouwouldexpectandhadmadeahorridstainroundhermouth.Digoryguessedatoncethatshemusthaveclimbedinoverthewall.Andhebegantoseethattheremightbesomesenseinthatlastlineaboutgettingyourheart’sdesireandgettingdespairalongwithit.FortheWitchlookedstrongerandprouderthanever,andeven,inaway,triumphant;butherfacewasdeadlywhite,whiteassalt.

AllthisflashedthroughDigory’smindinasecond;thenhetooktohisheelsandranforthegatesashardashecouldpelt;theWitchafterhim.Assoonashewasout,thegatesclosedbehindhimof theirownaccord.Thatgavehimthe leadbutnot for long.Bythetime he had reached the others and was shouting out “Quick, get on, Polly! Get up,Fledge,” theWitch had climbed thewall, or vaulted over it, andwas close behind himagain.

“Stay where you are,” cried Digory, turning round to face her, “or we’ll all vanish.

Don’tcomeaninchnearer.”

“Foolishboy,”saidtheWitch.“Whydoyourunfromme?Imeanyounoharm.Ifyoudonotstopandlistentomenow,youwillmisssomeknowledgethatwouldhavemadeyouhappyallyourlife.”

“WellIdon’twanttohearit,thanks,”saidDigory.Buthedid.

“Iknowwhaterrandyouhavecomeon,”continuedtheWitch.“ForitwasIwhowasclosebesideyou in thewoods lastnightandheardallyourcounsels.Youhavepluckedfruitinthegardenyonder.Youhaveitinyourpocketnow.Andyouaregoingtocarryitback,untasted,totheLion;forhim toeat,forhim touse.Yousimpleton!Doyouknowwhatthatfruit is?Iwill tellyou.It is theappleofyouth, theappleoflife.Iknow,forIhavetastedit;andIfeelalreadysuchchangesinmyselfthatIknowIshallnevergrowoldordie.Eatit,Boy,eatit;andyouandIwillbothliveforeverandbekingandqueenofthiswholeworld—orofyourworld,ifwedecidetogobackthere.”

“Nothanks,”saidDigory,“Idon’tknowthatIcaremuchaboutlivingonandonaftereveryoneIknowisdead.I’dratherliveanordinarytimeanddieandgotoHeaven.”

“ButwhataboutthisMotherofyourswhomyoupretendtoloveso?”

“What’sshegottodowithit?”saidDigory.

“Doyounotsee,Fool,thatonebiteofthatapplewouldhealher?Youhaveitinyourpocket.WeareherebyourselvesandtheLionisfaraway.UseyourMagicandgobacktoyourownworld.AminutelateryoucanbeatyourMother’sbedside,givingherthefruit.Fiveminutes lateryouwill see thecolorcomingback toher face.Shewill tellyou thepainisgone.Soonshewilltellyoushefeelsstronger.Thenshewillfallasleep—thinkofthat;hoursofsweetnaturalsleep,withoutpain,withoutdrugs.Nextdayeveryonewillbesayinghowwonderfullyshehasrecovered.Soonshewillbequitewellagain.Allwillbewellagain.Yourhomewillbehappyagain.Youwillbelikeotherboys.”

“Oh!”gaspedDigoryasifhehadbeenhurt,andputhishandtohishead.Forhenowknewthatthemostterriblechoicelaybeforehim.

“Whathas theLioneverdone foryou thatyoushouldbehis slave?”said theWitch.“What can he do to you once you are back in your ownworld?Andwhatwould yourMotherthinkifsheknewthatyoucouldhavetakenherpainawayandgivenherbackherlifeandsavedyourFather’sheartfrombeingbroken,andthatyouwouldn’t—thatyou’dratherrunmessagesforawildanimalinastrangeworldthatisnobusinessofyours?”

“I—Idon’tthinkheisawildanimal,”saidDigoryinadried-upsortofvoice.“Heis—Idon’tknow—”

“Thenheissomethingworse,”saidtheWitch.“Lookwhathehasdonetoyoualready;lookhowheartlesshehasmadeyou.Thatiswhathedoestoeveryonewholistenstohim.Cruel,pitilessboy!youwouldletyourownMotherdieratherthan—”

“Ohshutup,”saidthemiserableDigory,stillinthesamevoice.“DoyouthinkIdon’tsee?ButI—Ipromised.”

“Ah,butyoudidn’tknowwhatyouwerepromising.Andnooneherecanpreventyou.”

“Motherherself,”saidDigory,gettingthewordsoutwithdifficulty,“wouldn’tlikeit—awfullystrictaboutkeepingpromises—andnotstealing—andallthatsortofthing.She’dtellmenottodoit—quickasanything—ifshewashere.”

“But she need never know,” said theWitch, speakingmore sweetly than youwouldhavethoughtanyonewithsofierceafacecouldspeak.“Youwouldn’ttellherhowyou’dgot theapple.YourFatherneedneverknow.Nooneinyourworldneedknowanythingaboutthiswholestory.Youneedn’ttakethelittlegirlbackwithyou,youknow.”

Thatwaswhere theWitchmadeher fatalmistake.OfcourseDigoryknew thatPollycouldgetawaybyherownringaseasilyashecouldgetawaybyhis.ButapparentlytheWitchdidn’tknow this.And themeannessof the suggestion thathe should leavePollybehindsuddenlymadealltheotherthingstheWitchhadbeensayingtohimsoundfalseandhollow.Andeveninthemidstofallhismisery,hisheadsuddenlycleared,andhesaid(inadifferentandmuchloudervoice):

“Look here;where do you come into all this?Why are you so precious fond ofmyMotherallofasudden?What’sitgottodowithyou?What’syourgame?”

“Goodforyou,Digs,”whisperedPollyinhisear.“Quick!Getawaynow.”Shehadn’tdaredtosayanythingallthroughtheargumentbecause,yousee,itwasn’therMotherwhowasdying.

“Up then,” saidDigory, heaving her on to Fledge’s back and then scrambling up asquicklyashecould.Thehorsespreaditswings.

“Gothen,Fools,”calledtheWitch.“Thinkofme,Boy,whenyoulieoldandweakanddying, and remember how you threw away the chance of endless youth! It won’t beofferedyouagain.”

Theywerealreadysohighthattheycouldonlyjusthearher.NordidtheWitchwasteanytimegazingupatthem;theysawhersetoffnorthwarddowntheslopeofthehill.

They had started early thatmorning andwhat happened in the garden had not takenverylong,sothatFledgeandPollybothsaidtheywouldeasilygetbacktoNarniabeforenightfall.Digory never spoke on thewayback, and the otherswere shy of speaking tohim.Hewasverysadandhewasn’tevensureallthetimethathehaddonetherightthing;butwheneverherememberedtheshiningtearsinAslan’seyeshebecamesure.

AlldayFledgeflewsteadilywithuntiringwings;eastwardwiththerivertoguidehim,throughthemountainsandoverthewildwoodedhills,andthenoverthegreatwaterfallanddown,anddown,towherethewoodsofNarniaweredarkenedbytheshadowofthemightycliff,tillatlast,whentheskywasgrowingredwithsunsetbehindthem,hesawaplacewheremanycreaturesweregathered togetherby theriverside.AndsoonhecouldseeAslan himself in themidst of them. Fledge glided down, spread out his four legs,closed his wings, and landed cantering. Then he pulled up. The children dismounted.Digorysawalltheanimals,dwarfs,satyrs,nymphs,andotherthingsdrawingbacktotheleft and right tomakeway forhim.Hewalkedup toAslan,handedhim theapple, andsaid:

“I’vebroughtyoutheappleyouwanted,sir.”

FourteenTHEPLANTINGOFTHETREE“WELLDONE,”SAIDASLANINAVOICEthatmadetheearthshake.ThenDigoryknew that all theNarnians had heard thosewords and that the story of themwould behanded down from father to son in that newworld for hundreds of years and perhapsforever.Buthewasinnodangeroffeelingconceitedforhedidn’tthinkaboutitatallnowthathewas face to facewithAslan.This timehe foundhe could look straight into theLion’seyes.Hehadforgottenhistroublesandfeltabsolutelycontent.

“Welldone,sonofAdam,”saidtheLionagain.“Forthisfruityouhavehungeredandthirsted and wept. No hand but yours shall sow the seed of the Tree that is to be theprotectionofNarnia.Throwtheappletowardtheriverbankwherethegroundissoft.”

Digorydidashewas told.Everyonehadgrownsoquiet thatyoucouldhear thesoftthumpwhereitfellintothemud.

“Itiswellthrown,”saidAslan.“LetusnowproceedtothecoronationofKingFrankofNarniaandHelenhisQueen.”

Thechildrennownoticedthesetwoforthefirsttime.Theyweredressedinstrangeandbeautiful clothes, and from their shoulders rich robes flowedout behind them towherefourdwarfshelduptheKing’strainandfourriver-nymphstheQueen’s.Theirheadswerebare;butHelenhadletherhairdownanditmadeagreatimprovementinherappearance.Butitwasneitherhairnorclothesthatmadethemlooksodifferentfromtheiroldselves.Their faceshad anewexpression, especially theKing’s.All the sharpness and cunningand quarrelsomenesswhich he had picked up as aLondon cabby seemed to have beenwashedaway,andthecourageandkindnesswhichhehadalwayshadwereeasiertosee.Perhapsitwastheairoftheyoungworldthathaddoneit,ortalkingwithAslan,orboth.

“Uponmyword,”whisperedFledgetoPolly.“Myoldmaster’sbeenchangednearlyasmuchasIhave!Why,he’sarealmasternow.”

“Yes,butdon’tbuzzinmyearlikethat,”saidPolly.“Itticklesso.”

“Now,”saidAslan,“someofyouundothattangleyouhavemadewiththosetreesandletusseewhatweshallfindthere.”

Digorynowsawthatwherefourtreesgrewclosetogethertheirbrancheshadallbeenlaced together or tied together with switches so as to make a sort of cage. The twoElephantswiththeirtrunksandafewdwarfswiththeirlittleaxessoongotitallundone.Therewerethreethingsinside.Onewasayoungtreethatseemedtobemadeofgold;thesecondwasayoungtreethatseemedtobemadeofsilver;butthethirdwasamiserableobjectinmuddyclothes,sittinghunchedupbetweenthem.

“Gosh!”whisperedDigory.“UncleAndrew!”

Toexplainallthiswemustgobackabit.TheBeasts,youremember,hadtriedplantingandwateringhim.Whenthewateringbroughthimtohissenses,hefoundhimselfsoakingwet,burieduptohisthighsinearth(whichwasquicklyturningintomud)andsurrounded

bymorewild animals than he had ever dreamed of in his life before. It is perhaps notsurprisingthathebegantoscreamandhowl.Thiswasinawayagoodthing,foritatlastpersuadedeveryone(eventheWarthog)thathewasalive.Sotheydughimupagain(histrouserswereinareallyshockingstatebynow).Assoonashislegswerefreehetriedtobolt,butone swift curlof theElephant’s trunk roundhiswaist soonput anend to that.EveryonenowthoughthemustbesafelykeptsomewheretillAslanhadtimetocomeandseehimandsaywhatshouldbedoneabouthim.Sotheymadeasortofcageorcoopallroundhim.Theythenofferedhimeverythingtheycouldthinkoftoeat.

The Donkey collected great piles of thistles and threw them in, but Uncle Andrewdidn’tseemtocareaboutthem.TheSquirrelsbombardedhimwithvolleysofnuts,butheonlycoveredhisheadwithhishandsandtriedtokeepoutoftheway.Severalbirdsflewtoandfrodiligentlydroppingwormsonhim.TheBearwasespeciallykind.During theafternoonhefoundawildbees’nestandinsteadofeatingithimself(whichhewouldverymuchlike tohavedone) thisworthycreaturebrought itbacktoUncleAndrew.But thiswasinfacttheworstfailureofall.TheBearlobbedthewholestickymassoverthetopoftheenclosureandunfortunatelyithitUncleAndrewslapintheface(notallthebeesweredead).TheBear,whowouldnotatallhavemindedbeinghitinthefacebyahoneycombhimself,couldnotunderstandwhyUncleAndrewstaggeredback,slipped,andsatdown.Anditwassheerbadluckthathesatdownonthepileofthistles.“Andanyway,”astheWarthogsaid,“quitealotofhoneyhasgotintothecreature’smouthandthat’sboundtohave done it some good.” Theywere really getting quite fond of their strange pet andhopedthatAslanwouldallowthemtokeepit.Theclevereroneswerequitesurebynowthat at least some of the noises which came out of his mouth had a meaning. TheychristenedhimBrandybecausehemadethatnoisesooften.

Intheend,however,theyhadtoleavehimthereforthenight.AslanwasbusyallthatdayinstructingthenewKingandQueenanddoingotherimportantthings,andcouldnotattendto“pooroldBrandy.”Whatwiththenuts,pears,apples,andbananasthathadbeenthrownintohim,hedidfairlywellforsupper;butitwouldn’tbetruetosaythathepassedanagreeablenight.

“Bringoutthatcreature,”saidAslan.OneoftheElephantsliftedUncleAndrewinitstrunkandlaidhimattheLion’sfeet.Hewastoofrightenedtomove.

“Please,Aslan,”saidPolly,“couldyousaysomethingto—tounfrightenhim?Andthencouldyousaysomethingtopreventhimfromevercomingbackhereagain?”

“Doyouthinkhewantsto?”saidAslan.

“Well,Aslan,”saidPolly,“hemightsendsomeoneelse.He’ssoexcitedaboutthebaroffthelamp-postgrowingintoalamp-posttreeandhethinks—”

“Hethinksgreatfolly,child,”saidAslan.“ThisworldisburstingwithlifeforthesefewdaysbecausethesongwithwhichIcalleditintolifestillhangsintheairandrumblesintheground.Itwillnotbesoforlong.ButIcannottellthattothisoldsinner,andIcannotcomforthimeither;hehasmadehimselfunable tohearmyvoice. If Ispoke tohim,hewould hear only growlings and roarings. Oh Adam’s sons, how cleverly you defendyourselvesagainstallthatmightdoyougood!ButIwillgivehimtheonlygiftheisstillabletoreceive.”

Hebowedhisgreathead rathersadly,andbreathed into theMagician’s terrified face.“Sleep,”hesaid.“Sleepandbeseparatedforsomefewhoursfromall the tormentsyouhavedevisedforyourself.”UncleAndrewimmediatelyrolledoverwithclosedeyesandbeganbreathingpeacefully.

“Carryhimasideandlayhimdown,”saidAslan.“Now,dwarfs!Showyoursmith-craft.LetmeseeyoumaketwocrownsforyourKingandQueen.”

MoreDwarfsthanyoucoulddreamofrushedforwardtotheGoldenTree.Theyhadallits leavesstrippedoff,andsomeof itsbranches tornoff too,beforeyoucouldsayJackRobinson.Andnowthechildrencouldseethatitdidnotmerelylookgoldenbutwasofreal,softgold.Ithadofcoursesprungupfromthehalf-sovereignswhichhadfallenoutofUncleAndrew’spocketwhenhewasturnedupsidedown;justasthesilverhadgrownupfromthehalf-crowns.Fromnowhere,asitseemed,pilesofdrybrushwoodforfuel,alittleanvil, hammers, tongs, and bellows were produced. Next moment (how those dwarfsloved theirwork!) the firewasblazing, thebellowswere roaring, thegoldwasmelting,thehammerswereclinking.TwoMoles,whomAslanhadsettodig(whichwaswhattheylikedbest)earlierintheday,pouredoutapileofpreciousstonesatthedwarfs’feet.Underthecleverfingersofthelittlesmithstwocrownstookshape—notugly,heavythingslikemodern European crowns, but light, delicate, beautifully shaped circles that you couldreallywearand looknicerbywearing.TheKing’swas setwith rubiesand theQueen’swithemeralds.

When the crowns had been cooled in the river Aslan made Frank and Helen kneelbefore him and he placed the crowns on their heads. Then he said, “Rise upKing andQueenofNarnia,fatherandmotherofmanykingsthatshallbeinNarniaandtheIslesandArchenland.Bejustandmercifulandbrave.Theblessingisuponyou.”

Theneveryonecheeredorbayedorneighedortrumpetedorclappeditswingsandtheroyalpairstoodlookingsolemnandalittleshy,butallthenoblerfortheirshyness.AndwhileDigorywasstillcheeringheheardthedeepvoiceofAslanbesidehim,saying:

“Look!”

Everyone in that crowd turned its head, and then everyone drew a long breath ofwonderanddelight.Alittlewayoff,toweringovertheirheads,theysawatreewhichhadcertainlynotbeentherebefore.Itmusthavegrownupsilently,yetswiftlyasaflagriseswhen you pull it up on a flagstaff,while theywere all busied about the coronation. Itsspreadingbranchesseemedtocastalightratherthanashade,andsilverapplespeepedoutlikestarsfromundereveryleaf.Butitwasthesmellwhichcamefromit,evenmorethanthe sight, thathadmadeeveryonedraw in theirbreath.Foramomentonecouldhardlythinkaboutanythingelse.

“SonofAdam,”saidAslan,“youhavesownwell.Andyou,Narnians,letitbeyourfirstcaretoguardthisTree,forit isyourShield.TheWitchofwhomItoldyouhasfledfarawayintotheNorthoftheworld;shewillliveonthere,growingstrongerindarkMagic.ButwhilethatTreeflourishesshewillnevercomedownintoNarnia.ShedarenotcomewithinahundredmilesoftheTree,foritssmell,whichisjoyandlifeandhealthtoyou,isdeathandhorroranddespairtoher.”

EveryonewasstaringsolemnlyattheTreewhenAslansuddenlyswungroundhishead(scatteringgoldengleamsoflightfromhismaneashedidso)andfixedhislargeeyesonthe children. “What is it, children?” he said, for he caught them in the very act ofwhisperingandnudgingoneanother.

“Oh—Aslan,sir,”saidDigory,turningred,“Iforgottotellyou.TheWitchhasalreadyeatenoneof thoseapples,oneof the samekind thatTreegrew from.”Hehadn’t reallysaidallhewasthinking,butPollyatoncesaiditforhim.(Digorywasalwaysmuchmoreafraidthansheoflookingafool.)

“Sowethought,Aslan,”shesaid,“thattheremustbesomemistake,andshecan’treallymindthesmellofthoseapples.”

“Whydoyouthinkthat,DaughterofEve?”askedtheLion.

“Well,sheateone.”

“Child,” he replied, “that is why all the rest are now a horror to her. That is whathappens to thosewhopluckandeatfruitsat thewrongtimeandin thewrongway.Thefruitisgood,buttheyloatheiteverafter.”

“OhIsee,”saidPolly.“AndIsupposebecauseshetookit in thewrongwayitwon’tworkforher.Imeanitwon’tmakeheralwaysyoungandallthat?”

“Alas,” saidAslan, shakinghishead. “Itwill.Thingsalwaysworkaccording to theirnature.Shehaswonherheart’sdesire;shehasunwearyingstrengthandendlessdayslikeagoddess.Butlengthofdayswithanevilheartisonlylengthofmiseryandalreadyshebeginstoknowit.Allgetwhattheywant;theydonotalwayslikeit.”

“I—Inearlyateonemyself,Aslan,”saidDigory.“WouldI—”

“Youwould,child,”saidAslan.“Forthefruitalwaysworks—itmustwork—butitdoesnotworkhappily foranywhopluck it at theirownwill. If anyNarnian,unbidden,hadstolenanappleandplanteditheretoprotectNarnia,itwouldhaveprotectedNarnia.ButitwouldhavedonesobymakingNarnia intoanotherstrongandcruelempire likeCharn,not thekindlylandImeanit tobe.AndtheWitchtemptedyoutodoanotherthing,myson,didshenot?”

“Yes,Aslan.ShewantedmetotakeanapplehometoMother.”

“Understand,then,thatitwouldhavehealedher;butnottoyourjoyorhers.Thedaywouldhavecomewhenbothyouandshewouldhavelookedbackandsaiditwouldhavebeenbettertodieinthatillness.”

AndDigorycouldsaynothing,fortearschokedhimandhegaveupallhopesofsavinghisMother’s life; but at the same time he knew that the Lion knewwhat would havehappened,andthattheremightbethingsmoreterribleeventhanlosingsomeoneyoulovebydeath.ButnowAslanwasspeakingagain,almostinawhisper:

“That is whatwould have happened, child, with a stolen apple. It is not what willhappennow.WhatIgiveyounowwillbringjoy.Itwillnot,inyourworld,giveendlesslife,butitwillheal.Go.PluckheranapplefromtheTree.”

ForasecondDigorycouldhardlyunderstand.Itwasasifthewholeworldhadturnedinsideoutandupsidedown.Andthen,likesomeoneinadream,hewaswalkingacrosstotheTree,andtheKingandQueenwerecheeringhimandallthecreatureswerecheeringtoo.Hepluckedtheappleandputitinhispocket.ThenhecamebacktoAslan.

“Please,”hesaid,“maywegohomenow?”Hehadforgottentosay“Thankyou,”buthemeantit,andAslanunderstood.

FifteenTHEENDOFTHISSTORYANDTHEBEGINNINGOFALLTHEOTHERS“YOUNEEDNORINGSWHEN I AMWITH you,” said the voice of Aslan. Thechildrenblinkedandlookedaboutthem.TheywereoncemoreintheWoodbetweentheWorlds;UncleAndrewlayonthegrass,stillasleep;Aslanstoodbesidethem.

“Come,”saidAslan,“itistimethatyouwentback.Buttherearetwothingstoseetofirst;awarning,andacommand.Lookhere,children.”

Theylookedandsawalittlehollowinthegrass,withagrassybottom,warmanddry.

“Whenyouwerelasthere,”saidAslan,“thathollowwasapool,andwhenyoujumpedintoityoucametotheworldwhereadyingsunshoneovertheruinsofCharn.Thereisnopoolnow.Thatworldisended,asifithadneverbeen.LettheraceofAdamandEvetakewarning.”

“Yes,Aslan,”saidboth thechildren.ButPollyadded,“Butwe’renotquiteasbadasthatworld,arewe,Aslan?”

“Notyet,DaughterofEve,”hesaid.“Notyet.Butyouaregrowingmorelikeit.Itisnotcertain that some wicked one of your race will not find out a secret as evil as theDeplorableWordanduseittodestroyalllivingthings.Andsoon,verysoon,beforeyouareanoldmanandanoldwoman,greatnationsinyourworldwillberuledbytyrantswhocare no more for joy and justice and mercy than the Empress Jadis. Let your worldbeware.Thatis thewarning.Nowforthecommand.Assoonasyoucan, takefromthisUncleofyourshismagicringsandburythemsothatnoonecanusethemagain.”

BoththechildrenwerelookingupintotheLion’sfaceashespokethesewords.Andallatonce(theyneverknewexactlyhowithappened)thefaceseemedtobeaseaoftossinggoldinwhichtheywerefloating,andsuchasweetnessandpowerrolledaboutthemandover them and entered them that they felt they had never really been happy orwise orgood,orevenaliveandawake,before.Andthememoryofthatmomentstayedwiththemalways, so that as long as theyboth lived, if ever theywere sador afraidor angry, thethoughtofallthatgoldengoodness,andthefeelingthatitwasstillthere,quiteclose,justroundsomecornerorjustbehindsomedoor,wouldcomebackandmakethemsure,deepdowninside,thatallwaswell.Nextminuteallthreeofthem(UncleAndrewnowawake)cametumblingintothenoise,heat,andhotsmellsofLondon.

They were on the pavement outside the Ketterleys’ front door, and except that theWitch, theHorse, and theCabbyweregone, everythingwas exactly as theyhad left it.Therewasthelamp-post,withonearmmissing;therewasthewreckofthehansomcab;andtherewasthecrowd.Everyonewasstilltalkingandpeoplewerekneelingbesidethedamagedpoliceman,sayingthingslike,“He’scominground”or“Howdoyoufeelnow,oldchap?”or“TheAmbulancewillbehereinajiffy.”

“GreatScott!”thoughtDigory,“Ibelievethewholeadventure’stakennotimeatall.”

MostpeoplewerewildlylookingroundforJadisandthehorse.Noonetookanynoticeofthechildrenfornoonehadseenthemgoornoticedthemcomingback.AsforUncleAndrew,whatbetweenthestateofhisclothesandthehoneyonhisface,hecouldnothavebeen recognized by anyone. Fortunately the front door of the house was open and thehousemaid was standing in the doorway staring at the fun (what a day that girl washaving!)sothechildrenhadnodifficultyinbustlingUncleAndrewindoorsbeforeanyoneaskedanyquestions.

Heracedupthestairsbeforethemandatfirsttheywereveryafraidhewasheadingforhis attic andmeant to hide his remainingmagic rings.But they needn’t have bothered.Whathewas thinkingaboutwas thebottle inhiswardrobe,andhedisappearedatonceintohisbedroomandlockedthedoor.Whenhecameoutagain(whichwasnotforalongtime)hewasinhisdressing-gownandmadestraightforthebathroom.

“Canyougettheotherrings,Poll?”saidDigory.“IwanttogotoMother.”

“Right.Seeyoulater,”saidPollyandclattereduptheatticstairs.

ThenDigory took aminute to get his breath, and thenwent softly into hisMother’sroom.Andthereshelay,ashehadseenher liesomanyother times,proppeduponthepillows,withathin,palefacethatwouldmakeyoucrytolookatit.DigorytooktheAppleofLifeoutofhispocket.

AndjustastheWitchJadishadlookeddifferentwhenyousawherinourworldinsteadof in her own, so the fruit of thatmountain garden lookeddifferent too.Therewere ofcourseallsortsofcoloredthingsinthebedroom;thecoloredcounterpaneonthebed,thewallpaper, thesunlight fromthewindow,andMother’spretty,palebluedressing jacket.ButthemomentDigorytooktheAppleoutofhispocket,allthosethingsseemedtohavescarcelyanycoloratall.Everyoneof them,even thesunlight, lookedfadedanddingy.Thebrightnessof theApple threwstrange lightson theceiling.Nothingelsewasworthlookingat:youcouldn’tlookatanythingelse.AndthesmelloftheAppleofYouthwasasiftherewasawindowintheroomthatopenedonHeaven.

“Oh,darling,howlovely,”saidDigory’sMother.

“Youwilleatit,won’tyou?Please,”saidDigory.

“Idon’tknowwhattheDoctorwouldsay,”sheanswered.“Butreally—IalmostfeelasifIcould.”

Hepeeled it and cut it up andgave it to her piece by piece.Andno sooner had shefinished it than she smiledandherhead sankbackon thepillowand shewasasleep: areal,natural,gentlesleep,withoutanyofthosenastydrugs,whichwas,asDigoryknew,the thing in thewholeworld that shewantedmost.Andhewas surenow thather facelookedalittledifferent.Hebentdownandkissedherverysoftlyandstoleoutoftheroomwith a beating heart; taking the core of the apple with him. For the rest of that day,wheneverhe lookedat the thingsabouthim,andsawhowordinaryandunmagical theywere,hehardlydaredtohope;butwhenherememberedthefaceofAslanhedidhope.

ThateveningheburiedthecoreoftheAppleinthebackgarden.

NextmorningwhentheDoctormadehisusualvisit,Digoryleanedoverthebanisterstolisten.HeheardtheDoctorcomeoutwithAuntLettyandsay:

“MissKetterley,thisisthemostextraordinarycaseIhaveknowninmywholemedicalcareer.Itis—itislikeamiracle.Iwouldn’ttellthelittleboyanythingatpresent;wedon’twanttoraiseanyfalsehopes.Butinmyopinion—”thenhisvoicebecametoolowtohear.

That afternoon he went down the garden and whistled their agreed secret signal forPolly(shehadn’tbeenabletogetbackthedaybefore).

“Whatluck?”saidPolly,lookingoverthewall.“Imean,aboutyourMother?”

“I think—I think it is going to be all right,” saidDigory. “But if you don’tmind I’dreallyrathernottalkaboutityet.Whatabouttherings?”

“I’ve got them all,” said Polly. “Look, it’s all right, I’m wearing gloves. Let’s burythem.”

“Yes,let’s.I’vemarkedtheplacewhereIburiedthecoreoftheAppleyesterday.”

ThenPollycameoverthewallandtheywenttogethertotheplace.But,asitturnedout,Digory need not havemarked the place. Somethingwas already coming up. Itwas notgrowing so that you could see it grow as the new trees had done inNarnia; but itwasalreadywell aboveground.Theygot a trowel andburied all themagic rings, includingtheirownones,inacircleroundit.

About aweek after this itwas quite certain thatDigory’sMotherwas getting better.Aboutafortnightlatershewasabletositoutinthegarden.Andamonthlaterthatwholehousehadbecomeadifferentplace.AuntLettydideverythingthatMotherliked;windowswereopened,frowsycurtainsweredrawnbacktobrightenuptherooms,therewerenewflowerseverywhere,andnicerthingstoeat,andtheoldpianowastunedandMothertookuphersingingagain,andhadsuchgameswithDigoryandPolly thatAuntLettywouldsay“Ideclare,Mabel,you’rethebiggestbabyofthethree.”

Whenthingsgowrong,you’llfindtheyusuallygoongettingworseforsometime;butwhenthingsoncestartgoingrighttheyoftengoongettingbetterandbetter.Afteraboutsix weeks of this lovely life there came a long letter from Father in India, which hadwonderful news in it. OldGreat-UncleKirke had died and thismeant, apparently, thatFatherwasnowveryrich.HewasgoingtoretireandcomehomefromIndiaforeverandever.Andthegreatbighouse in thecountry,whichDigoryhadheardofallhis lifeandneverseenwouldnowbetheirhome;thebighousewiththesuitsofarmor,thestables,thekennels, the river, the park, the hot-houses, the vineries, thewoods, and themountainsbehindit.SothatDigoryfelt justassureasyouthat theywereallgoingtolivehappilyeverafter.Butperhapsyouwouldliketoknowjustoneortwothingsmore.

PollyandDigorywerealwaysgreatfriendsandshecamenearlyeveryholidaytostaywiththemattheirbeautifulhouseinthecountry;andthatwaswhereshelearnedtorideandswimandmilkandbakeandclimb.

InNarnia theBeasts livedingreatpeaceandjoyandneither theWitchnoranyotherenemycametotroublethatpleasantlandformanyhundredyears.KingFrankandQueenHelen and their children lived happily inNarnia and their second son becameKing ofArchenland.Theboysmarriednymphsand thegirlsmarriedwood-godsand river-gods.Thelamp-postwhichtheWitchhadplanted(withoutknowingit)shonedayandnightintheNarnianforest,sothattheplacewhereitgrewcametobecalledLanternWaste;andwhen,manyyearslater,anotherchildfromourworldgotintoNarnia,onasnowynight,she found the light still burning.And that adventurewas, in away, connectedwith theonesIhavejustbeentellingyou.

Itwaslikethis.ThetreewhichsprangfromtheApplethatDigoryplantedinthebackgarden, livedandgrew intoa fine tree.Growing in thesoilofourworld, faroutof thesoundofAslan’svoiceandfar fromtheyoungairofNarnia, itdidnotbearapples thatwould revive a dyingwoman asDigory’sMother had been revived, though it did bearapplesmorebeautifulthananyothersinEngland,andtheywereextremelygoodforyou,thoughnotfullymagical.Butinsideitself,intheverysapofit,thetree(sotospeak)neverforgot that other tree in Narnia to which it belonged. Sometimes it would movemysteriouslywhentherewasnowindblowing:Ithinkthatwhenthishappenedtherewerehighwinds inNarniaand theEnglish treequiveredbecause,at thatmoment, theNarniatreewasrockingandswayinginastrongsouthwesterngale.Howeverthatmightbe,itwasproved later that therewas stillmagic in itswood.ForwhenDigorywasquitemiddle-aged(andhewasafamouslearnedman,aProfessor,andagreattravelerbythattime)andtheKetterleys’oldhousebelonged tohim, therewasagreatstormallover thesouthofEnglandwhich blew the tree down.He couldn’t bear to have it simply choppedup forfirewood,sohehadpartofthetimbermadeintoawardrobe,whichheputinhisbighouse

in the country. And though he himself did not discover the magic properties of thatwardrobe, someone else did. That was the beginning of all the comings and goingsbetweenNarniaandourworld,whichyoucanreadofinotherbooks.

WhenDigory and his peoplewent to live in the big country house, they tookUncleAndrewtolivewiththem;forDigory’sFathersaid,“Wemusttrytokeeptheoldfellowoutofmischief, and it isn’t fair thatpoorLetty shouldhavehimalwaysonherhands.”UncleAndrewnevertriedanyMagicagainaslongashelived.Hehadlearnedhislesson,andinhisoldagehebecameanicerandlessselfisholdmanthanhehadeverbeenbefore.Buthealwayslikedtogetvisitorsaloneinthebilliard-roomandtellthemstoriesaboutamysterious lady,a foreign royalty,withwhomhehaddrivenaboutLondon.“Adevilishtempershehad,”hewouldsay.“Butshewasademfinewoman,sir,ademfinewoman.”

Stepintotheworldof

www.narnia.com

AbouttheAuthorCLIVESTAPLESLEWIS,knownasJacktohisfriends,wasbornin1898.LewisandhisgoodfriendJ.R.R.Tolkien,theauthoroftheLordoftheRingstrilogy,werepartofthe Inklings, an informal writers’ club that met at a local pub to discuss story ideas.Lewis’sfascinationwithfairy tales,mythsandancient legends,coupledwith inspirationdrawnfromhischildhood,ledhimtowrite THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE,oneofthebest-lovedbooks of all time. Six further books followed to become the immensely popularChronicles ofNarnia.The final title in the series, THE LAST BATTLE,was awarded theCarnegieMedal,oneofthehighestmarksofexcellenceinchildren’sliterature.

Visitwww.AuthorTracker.comforexclusiveinformationonyourfavoriteHarperCollinsauthor.

OtherBooksintheNarniaSeriesBookOne

THEMAGICIAN’SNEPHEW

BookTwo

THELION,THEWITCHANDTHEWARDROBE

BookThree

THEHORSEANDHISBOY

BookFour

PRINCECASPIAN

BookFive

THEVOYAGEOFTHEDAWNTREADER

BookSix

THESILVERCHAIR

BookSeven

THELASTBATTLE

CreditsCoverartbyDavidWiesner;copyright©2007byC.S.LewisPte.Ltd.

CopyrightTHEMAGICIAN’SNEPHEW.Copyright©1955byC.S.LewisPte.Ltd.Copyrightrenewed1983byC.S.LewisPte.Ltd.InteriorartbyPaulineBaynes;copyright©1955byC.S.LewisPte.Ltd.All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Bypaymentof therequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenon-exclusive,non-transferableright to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen.No part of this textmay bereproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in orintroduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by anymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.

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TableofContentsOne

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

AbouttheAuthor

OtherBooksintheNarniaSeries

Credits

Copyright

AboutthePublisher