Chapter 30

Lucy was right. It was definitely lighter in the direction they were walking. They seemed to walk for miles. Lucy had no idea how long they had been walking, but her feet ached and she felt so hungry. It feels like years since breakfast this morning, she thought, with an inward sigh. She stole a glance at the silent girl walking next to her. Jo's face was serious, almost stern and she was staring down at her feet. She appeared to be deep in thought as she walked. Lucy decided it might be better not to try and talk just then. She was just wondering how much longer she could walk, when quite suddenly, a large opening loomed up in front of them.

"At last," exclaimed Lucy in some relief. "I'm so tired, I just want to sit down."

She stumbled forwards to the opening and stopped dead as she did so, causing Jo to bump into her, with a muffled "ouch!"

"Sorry," apologised Lucy, "it's just, well, see for yourself." She stepped aside and Jo saw what had so astonished her. There before them, green and lush and fragrant, was the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

Lucy and Jo stepped out into the garden. It was very very still, not even the sounds of birds or small animals moving could be heard. It was obviously lovingly tended, great rose bushes stood here and there, bearing evidence of tender care. Enormous green trees towered above them, casting refreshing shade over the plants and flowers before them. In the very centre of the garden stood an enormous fountain. Lucy could faintly hear the rippling of the water as it rose into the air and fell again. It made the most delicious sound she had ever heard. Eager to be closer to that sound, she found herself walking towards the fountain. The tiredness and the aching seemed to have vanished and she felt alert and refreshed, just as if she had had a lovely sleep, followed by a long cool drink.

Jo, meanwhile, was standing in astonishment, gazing about her. Where were they? She knew the Tiernsee and its surrounds fairly well by now and she had never heard anyone speak of such a garden. Why, some of the plants she didn't even recognise. The trees were obviously extremely old, some of them were so massive. Not noticing that Lucy had already vanished into the distance, towards the fountain in the centre, Jo began to wander around, stopping often to smell a flower or gently touch a plant. Her wonder increased with every step she took, for she saw such richness, such detail, such care in the planning and tending of the garden that it awed her.

The gardener who takes care of this place must work all the time, she thought. It's the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

Jo soon came to a small clearing, where stood a large tree, with grey, smooth bark and bluish-green foliage. Hanging from a branch were a small horn on a leather strap and a small bottle of what looked like glass or crystal, containing some kind of liquid. A sign in some kind of script hung near these items. It seemed to be written in an unfamiliar language and Jo felt sure that she would be unable to read it. However, she decided that she must have been mistaken, for as she gazed at it, the meaning of what was written became clear to her.

These treasures are for the traveller who comes here unawares. Take heed, lest you use them unwisely. These are Queen Susan's horn – in time of great need or danger, some kind of help shall come to the one who blows on it; and Queen Lucy's cordial, for the tending of dire wounds or sickness.

Jo stared in astonishment. Queen Susan? Queen Lucy? Surely not. It must just be a coincidence, she thought, as she slowly removed the horn and the cordial and hung them about her neck.

Lucy, meanwhile, was sitting dreamily on the edge of the fountain, letting her hand dip languidly into the clear water. Her head was resting comfortably against the back of the fountain and her eyes were half-closed. She had forgotten her tiredness, or that she was hungry and thirsty. She was listening to the sound of the water rising and falling. It was almost like music.

Lucy became aware of warm, fragrant breath on her face. Aslan! she thought, sitting up abruptly and opening her eyes. But to her great disappointment, there was no Aslan in sight, only the trees and flowers of the garden and the stillness. Wondering if she had been mistaken, Lucy stood up and shook herself. She wondered how long she had been sitting there. I must have been half-asleep, she decided. Bending down, she drank deeply from the fountain. The water was fresh and sweet. Lucy felt refreshed and strengthened. Straightening her shoulders, she turned to go on and cannoned straight into Jo!

Lucy staggered and opened her mouth to aplogise, but stopped as she saw what Jo was carrying. "My cordial!" she gasped. "Where did you get it? Did Aslan give it to you?"

Jo stared at her. Had Lucy hit her head when they fell in the hole? Who or what was Aslan and how did Lucy know about the cordial? She continued to stare speechlessly at Lucy.

"Well?" exclaimed Lucy, somewhat impatiently. "Where did you get it? And you have Susan's horn too. We wondered what she had done with it. We took it with us the day we went hunting the White Stag. That was the day we …" she broke off, remembering how she and Jo had first met.

Jo sank limply down onto the edge of the fountain. Usually so self-assured, her balance had been jarred by their sudden descent into the dark hole and the terrifying fall. Now they seemed to be in some strange place, and she was not in control of what was happening at all. She didn't like it one little bit. Lucy seemed to have changed too. She seemed somehow, to be stronger, almost, well, statelier. What was happening?

Lucy reached forward and gently removed the cordial from around Jo's neck and hung it around her own. Now she felt better. Having the little bottle there made things seem more familiar. Now she was sure that she was back in Narnia and that Aslan was somewhere near. "Thank you, Aslan," she murmured. She turned to Jo. "Let's go," she said simply and held out her hand to help Jo up.

"Go where?" asked Jo. "Wherever it is that we are supposed to go," replied Lucy at once.

Again, Jo stared at her blankly. What was the girl talking about?

"Err, wouldn't it be better to wait hear to be rescued?" she said.

Lucy laughed. "No, I don't think so," she said. Where we are the Chalet folk can't get to us. We're in Narnia now and we can't get back until Aslan sends us. Don't worry," she added hurriedly, seeing the look of horror and fear that came into Jo's face. "Aslan won't let anything happen to us."

"Narnia," repeated Jo slowly. "Didn't your sister say something about Narnia the day you …"

"Came out of your wardrobe, yes." Lucy finished her sentence for her. "We came out of Narnia and ended up in your room. We don't come from here. Our home is in London, you know. We were sent into the country by our parents, because of …" she stopped abruptly, suddenly realising that none of the events of her early childhood had even happened yet. Perhaps it would be better not to mention any of that. No need to frighten Jo any more than she was already.

"Anyway," she continued. "We were staying in the country in the house of someone my parents knew. It's a very old house, with lots of rooms. One day, we all climbed into a wardrobe in one of the rooms, to escape from the housekeeper and a whole lot of people who had come to see the house. But we discovered that we were in Narnia. We were there for years and years and years and when we came back to our world, instead of finding ourselves back in Professor Kirke's house, we ended up coming out of your wardrobe," she finished in a rush.

Jo stared at her. It was all nonsense of course, but somehow made sense, at least in this setting. "So, what about your parents?" she asked. "Where are they?"

"I don't know," said Lucy sadly. "I haven't seen them in months and months. I don't even know how to contact them. I don't think it would be a good idea though."

"Why?" asked Jo curiously.

"Because we didn't just come back to a different part of our world," said Lucy slowly. "We also came back to a different time. All the things that happened to us before we went into the wardrobe, well, they haven't happened yet. I can't work out exactly how far in the future my parents are, not too far I think, but I think I'm either not born yet or I'm quite a small child. It would give my parents a horrible shock if I suddenly contacted them now, even if I could."