Chapter 2: Santa Claus

When dinner was done, they all drew their stools up and ate to contentment. Which for the Pevensies and the Beavers was shocking as Buffy had multiple helpings.

Buffy noticed everyone staring at her as she finished her third plate of food. "I have a higher metabolism than normal humans. I need more food for the energy my body produces."

"And now," said Mr. Beaver, "if you'll just wait till, I've got my pipe lit up and going nicely—why, now we can get to business. It's snowing again," he added, cocking his eye at the window. "That's all the better, because it means we shan't have any visitors; and if anyone should have been trying to follow you, why he won't find any tracks."

"And now," said Lucy, "Do please tell us what's happened to Mr. Tumnus."

"Ah, that's bad," said Mr. Beaver, shaking his head. "That's a very, very bad business. There's no doubt he was taken off by the police. I got that from a bird who saw it done."

"But where's he been taken to?" asked Lucy.

"Well, they were heading northward when they were last seen and we all know what that means."

"No," said Buffy. "I don't know about them for sure. But I don't."

Mr. Beaver shook his head in a very gloomy fashion. "I'm afraid it means they were taking him to her House," he said.

"But what'll they do to him, Mr. Beaver?" gasped Lucy.

"Well," said Mr. Beaver, "you can't exactly say for sure. But there's not many taken in there that ever comes out again. Statues. All full of statues they say it is—in the courtyard and up the stairs and in the hall. People she's turned into stone."

"But, Mr. Beaver," said Lucy, "can't we—I mean we must do something to save him. It's too dreadful and it's all on my account."

"I don't doubt you'd save him if you could, dearie," said Mrs. Beaver, "but you've no chance of getting into that House against her will and ever coming out alive."

"Couldn't we have some stratagem?" said Peter. "I mean couldn't we dress up as something, or pretend to be—oh, peddlers or anything—or watch till she was gone out—or—oh, hang it all, there must be some way. This Faun saved my sister at his own risk, Mr. Beaver. We can't just leave him to be—to be—to have that done to him."

"It's no good, Son of Adam," said Mr. Beaver, "no good your trying, of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move—"

"Who is Aslan?" said Buffy. Again, she felt that feeling of being at peace, of finally being done as the Slayer.

"Aslan?" said Mr. Beaver. "Why, don't you know? He's the King. He's the Lord of the whole wood, but not often here, you understand. Never in my time or my father's time. But the word has reached us that he has come back. He is in Narnia at this moment. He'll settle the White Queen all right. It is he, not you, that will save Mr. Tumnus."

"She won't turn him into stone too?" said Edmund.

"Lord love you, Son of Adam, what a simple thing to say!" answered Mr. Beaver with a great laugh. "Turn him into stone? If she can stand on her two feet and look him in the face it'll be the most she can do and more than I expect of her. No, no. He'll put all to rights as it says in an old rhyme in these parts: Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again. You'll understand when you see him."

"But shall we see him?" asked Susan.

"Why, Daughter of Eve, that's what I brought you here for. I'm to lead you where you shall meet him," said Mr. Beaver.

"Is—is he a man?" asked Lucy.

"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion."

Buffy understood some. It was common knowledge in her time that lions were considered the king of the animal kingdom. Which meant that if most of population of this strange land were themselves animals then it made sense their king would be an animal as well.

"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

"I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I do feel frightened when it comes to the point."

"That's right, Son of Adam," said Mr. Beaver. "And so, you shall. Word has been sent that you are to meet him, tomorrow if you can, at the Stone Table."

"Where's that?" said Buffy.

"I'll show you," said Mr. Beaver. "It's down the river, a good step from here. I'll take you to it!"

"But meanwhile what about poor Mr. Tumnus?" said Lucy.

"The quickest way you can help him is by going to meet Aslan," said Mr. Beaver, "once he's with us, then we can begin doing things. Not that we don't need you too. For that's another of the old rhymes: When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone. Sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done. So, things must be drawing near their end now he's come and you've come. We've heard of Aslan coming into these parts before—long ago, nobody can say when. But there's never been any of your race here before."

"That's what I don't understand, Mr. Beaver," said Peter, "I mean isn't the Witch herself human?"

"She'd like us to believe it," said Mr. Beaver, "and it's on that, that she bases her claim to be Queen. But she's no Daughter of Eve. She comes of your father Adam's first wife…"

"Lilith," said Buffy as Mr. Beaver nodded.

"She was one of the Jinn. That's what she comes from on one side. And on the other she comes of the giants."

"The Old Ones," Buffy whispered to herself.

"No, no, there isn't a drop of real human blood in the Witch," Mr. Beaver finished.

"That's why she's bad all through, Mr. Beaver," said Mrs. Beaver.

"True enough, Mrs. Beaver," he replied, "there may be two views about humans. But there's no two views about things that look like humans and aren't."

"I've known good Dwarfs," said Mrs. Beaver.

"So've I, now you come to speak of it," said her husband, "but precious few, and they were the ones least like men. But in general, take my advice, when you meet anything that's going to be human and isn't yet, or used to be human once and isn't now, or ought to be human and isn't, you keep your eyes on it and feel for your hatchet. And that's why the Witch is always on the lookout for any humans in Narnia. She's been watching for you this many a year, and if she knew there were five of you, she'd be more dangerous still."

"What's that to do with it?" asked Peter.

"Because of another prophecy," said Mr. Beaver. "Down at Cair Paravel—that's the castle on the sea-coast down at the mouth of this river which ought to be the capital of the whole country if all was as it should be—down at Cair Paravel there are five thrones and it's a saying in Narnia time out of mind that when two Sons of Adam and three Daughters of Eve sit in those five thrones, then it will be the end not only of the White Witch's reign but of her life, and that is why we had to be so cautious as we came along, for if she knew about you five, your lives wouldn't be worth a shake of my whiskers!"

Buffy and the Pevensies had been attending so hard to what Mr. Beaver was telling them that they had noticed nothing else for a long time.

Then during the moment of silence that followed his last remark, Lucy suddenly said: "I say—where's Edmund?"

"Who saw him last?" Buffy asked as she stood up and went to the door and looked out. The snow was falling thickly and steadily, the frozen river had vanished under a thick white blanket, and she could hardly see either bank. "Edmund!" she called out. After several repeated attempts she gave up. He was either dead or too far away to hear her.

"How perfectly dreadful!" said Susan when Buffy had come back inside and told them she saw no sign of Edmund. "Oh, how I wish we'd never come."

"What on earth are we to do, Mr. Beaver?" said Peter.

"Do?" said Mr. Beaver, who was already putting on his snow-boots, "do? We must be off at once. We haven't a moment to spare!"

"We'd better divide into four search parties," said Peter, "and all go in different directions. Whoever finds him must come back here at once and—"

"Search parties, Son of Adam?" said Mr. Beaver; "what for?"

"Why, to look for Edmund, of course!"

"There's no point in looking for him," said Mr. Beaver.

"Why?" asked Buffy. "Why is there no use in looking for him?"

"The reason there's no use looking," said Mr. Beaver, "is that we know already where he's gone!" Everyone stared in amazement. "Don't you understand? He's gone to her, to the White Witch. He has betrayed us all."

"Oh, surely—oh, really!" said Susan; "he can't have done that."

"Can't he?" said Mr. Beaver.

"But will he know the way?" said Peter.

"Has he been in this country before?" asked Mr. Beaver. "Has he ever been here alone?"

"Yes," said Lucy, almost in a whisper. "I'm afraid he has."

"And did he tell you what he'd done or who he'd met?"

"Well, no, he didn't," said Lucy.

"Then mark my words," said Mr. Beaver, "he has already met the White Witch and joined her side, and been told where she lives. I didn't like to mention it before but the moment I set eyes on that brother of yours I said to myself 'Treacherous.' He had the look of one who has been with the Witch and eaten her food. You can always tell them if you've lived long in Narnia; something about their eyes."

"As much as I am sure you are right," said Buffy. "I do not leave people behind. You take Peter, Susan and Lucy to Aslan. I will look for Edmund."

"Go to the Witch's House?" said Mrs. Beaver. "Don't you see that the only chance of saving either him or yourselves is to keep away from her?"

"How do you mean?" said Lucy.

"Why, all she wants is to get all five of you. Once you were all five inside her House her job would be done—and there'd be five new statues in her collection before you'd had time to speak. But she'll keep him alive as long as he's the only one she's got, because she'll want to use him as a decoy; as bait to catch the rest of you with."

"What do you suggest?" asked Buffy.

"Aslan," said Mr. Beaver. "We must go on and meet him. That's our only chance now."

"It seems to me, my dears," said Mrs. Beaver, "that it is very important to know just when he slipped away. How much he can tell her depends on how much he heard. For instance, had we started talking of Aslan before he left? If not, then we may do very well, for she won't know that Aslan has come to Narnia, or that we are meeting him, and will be quite off her guard as far as that is concerned."

"I don't remember his being here when we were talking about Aslan—" began Peter, but Lucy interrupted him.

"Oh yes, he was," she said miserably; "don't you remember, it was he who asked whether the Witch could turn Aslan into stone too?"

"So, he did, by Jove," said Peter; "just the sort of thing he would say, too!"

"Worse and worse," said Mr. Beaver, "and the next thing is this. Was he still here when I told you that the place for meeting Aslan was the Stone Table?"

Sadly no one knew exactly when Edmund left so they couldn't say if Edmund had been there when the beaver had mentioned the Stone Table.

"Because, if he was," continued Mr. Beaver, "then she'll simply sled down in that direction and get between us and the Stone Table and catch us on our way down. In fact, we shall be cut off from Aslan."

"But that isn't what she'll do first," said Mrs. Beaver, "not if I know her. The moment that Edmund tells her that we're all here she'll set out to catch us this very night, and if he's been gone about half an hour, she'll be here in about another twenty minutes."

"You're right, Mrs. Beaver," said her husband, "we must all get away from here. There's not a moment to lose."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"There's no time to lose," Mr. Beaver said as everyone began bundling themselves into coats, except Mrs. Beaver, who started picking up sacks and laying them on the table and said: "Now, Mr. Beaver, just reach down that ham. And here's a packet of tea, and there's sugar, and some matches. And if someone will get two or three loaves out of the crock over there in the corner."

"What are you doing, Mrs. Beaver?" exclaimed Susan.

"Packing a load for each of us, dearie," said Mrs. Beaver very coolly. "You didn't think we'd set out on a journey with nothing to eat, did you?"

"She has a point," Buffy said. "First thing I learned as a Slayer is not to die. We need food or we won't survive out there long."

"Think it over, Mr. Beaver. She can't be here for quarter of an hour at least," Mrs. Beaver added.

"But don't we want as big a start as we can possibly get," said Peter looking at Buffy, "if we're to reach the Stone Table before her?"

"Peter's right, Buffy," said Susan. "As soon as she has looked in here and finds we're gone she'll be off at top speed."

"That she will," said Mrs. Beaver. "But we can't get there before her whatever we do, for she'll be on a sled and we'll be walking."

"Then—have we no hope?" said Susan.

"Now don't you get fussing, there's a dear," said Mrs. Beaver, "but just get half a dozen clean handkerchiefs out of the drawer. 'Course we've got a hope. We can't get there before her but we can keep under cover and go by ways she won't expect and perhaps we'll get through."

"You also have me," Buffy added. "I have supernatural strength. I have fought enemies stronger the strongest man alive."

"It's time we were out of this," Mr. Beaver said.

"And don't you start fussing either, Mr. Beaver," said his wife. "There. That's better. There's six loads and the largest for the largest of us and the smallest for the smallest of us: that's you two, my dears," she added, looking at Buffy and Lucy.

"Oh, do please come on," said Lucy.

"Well, I'm nearly ready now," answered Mrs. Beaver at last, allowing her husband to help her into her snow-boots. "I suppose the sewing machine's too heavy to bring?"

Mr. Beaver glanced at Buffy who shook her head. She wasn't carrying no sewing machine, no matter how strong she was. "Yes. It is," he said. "A great deal too heavy. And you don't think you'll be able to use it while we're on the run, I suppose?"

"I can't abide the thought of that Witch fiddling with it," said Mrs. Beaver, "and breaking it or stealing it, as likely as not."

"Oh, please, please, please, do hurry!" said the three children.

"They are right," Buffy said. "We should be going."

And so, at last they all got outside and Mr. Beaver locked the door and they set off, all carrying their loads over their shoulders.

The snow had stopped and the moon had come out when they began their journey.

They went in single file—first Mr. Beaver, then Buffy, then Lucy, then Peter, then Susan, and Mrs. Beaver last of all. Mr. Beaver led them across the dam and on to the right bank of the river and then along a very rough sort of path among the trees right down by the river-bank.

The sides of the valley, shining in the moonlight, towered up far above them on either hand. "Best keep down here as much as possible," he said. "She'll have to keep to the top, for you couldn't bring a sled down here."

Mr. Beaver eventually turned away from the river-bank to the right and lead them steeply uphill into the very thickest bushes. Mr. Beaver then vanished into a little hole in the bank which had been almost hidden under the bushes. Buffy got down on her hands and knees and led the children and Mrs. Beaver inside.

"Wherever is this?" said Peter's voice, sounding tired and pale in the darkness.

"It's an old hiding-place for beavers in bad times," said Mr. Beaver, "and a great secret. It's not much of a place but we must get a few hours' sleep."

"If you hadn't all been in such a fuss when we were starting, I'd have brought some pillows," said Mrs. Beaver.

Mrs. Beaver handed round in the dark a little flask out of which everyone drank something—it made one cough and splutter a little and stung the throat, but it also made you feel deliciously warm after you'd swallowed it—and everyone, with the exception of Buffy went straight to sleep.

"I miss you, Dawnie," Buffy whispered to herself as she stared at her three young wards.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

When Lucy woke, she found Buffy gone. She looked outside and saw the Slayer standing at the entrance standing watch. "Did you sleep?" she asked.

"A little," Buffy answered. "I can get by usually on three- or four-hours." It was then she and Lucy heard it, the sound of jingling bells. "Get back inside."

Lucy crawled back inside the cave and saw Peter; Susan and the beavers were awake. She told them what she and Buffy heard. Mr. Beaver went outside to see what Buffy and Lucy had heard and he smiled. "It's all right," he shouted. "Come out, Mrs. Beaver. Come out, Sons and Daughters of Adam. It's all right! It isn't Her!"

So, Mrs. Beaver and the children came bundling out of the cave.

"Come on!" cried Mr. Beaver, who was almost dancing with delight. "Come and see! This is a nasty knock for the Witch! It looks as if her power is already crumbling."

"What is it?" Buffy asked as they all scrambled up the steep bank of the valley together.

"Didn't I tell you," answered Mr. Beaver, "that she'd made it always winter and never Christmas? Didn't I tell you? Well, just come and see!"

Buffy's eyes went wide in realization. "You mean Santa Claus is real?"

And then they were all at the top and did see.

It was a sled, and it was reindeer with bells on their harness. And on the sled sat a person whom everyone knew the moment they set eyes on him. He was a huge man in a bright red robe with a hood that had fur inside it and a great white beard that fell like a foamy waterfall over his chest.

As Buffy and the children looked at him, they all became quite still. They felt very glad, but also solemn.

"I've come at last," said he. "She has kept me out for a long time, but I have got in at last. Aslan is on the move. The Witch's magic is weakening. And now for your presents. There is a new and better sewing machine for you, Mrs. Beaver. I will drop it in your house as I pass."

"If you please, sir," said Mrs. Beaver, making a curtsey. "It's locked up."

"Locks and bolts make no difference to me," said Father Christmas. "And as for you, Mr. Beaver, when you get home you will find your dam finished and mended and all the leaks stopped and a new sluicegate fitted."

Mr. Beaver was so pleased that he opened his mouth very wide and then found he couldn't say anything at all.

"Peter, Adam's Son," said Father Christmas.

"Here, sir," said Peter.

"These are your presents," was the answer, "and they are tools not toys. The time to use them is perhaps near at hand. Bear them well." With these words he handed to Peter a shield and a sword. The shield was the color of silver and across it there ramped a red lion, as bright as a ripe strawberry at the moment when you pick it.

"Susan, Eve's Daughter," said Father Christmas. "These are for you," and he handed her a bow and a quiver full of arrows and a little ivory horn. "You must use the bow only in great need," he said, "for I do not mean you to fight in the battle. It does not easily miss. And when you put this horn to your lips and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think help of some kind will come to you."

"Lucy, Eve's Daughter," and Lucy came forward. He gave her a little bottle of what looked like glass and a small dagger. "In this bottle," he said, "there is a cordial made of the juice of one of the fire-flowers that grow in the mountains of the sun. If you or any of your friends is hurt, a few drops of this will restore them. And the dagger is to defend yourself at great need. For you also are not to be in the battle."

"Why, sir?" said Lucy. "I think—I don't know—but I think I could be brave enough."

"That is not the point," he said. "But battles are ugly when women fight." He turned to Buffy. "And for you, Buffy, Daughter of Eve and Daughter of Sineya."

"Who is Sineya?" Buffy asked.

"You would know her as the First Slayer," Father Christmas answered as Buffy nodded. He handed her a scythe. On one end was a blade of red and gold and on the other end was a wooden stake. "For you the weapon of a Slayer. Only two of these were ever crafted. One for this world and one for your world. And now" —here he suddenly looked less grave— "here is something for the moment for you all!" and he brought out a large tray containing six cups and saucers, a bowl of lump sugar, a jug of cream, and a great big teapot all sizzling and piping hot. Then he cried out "Merry Christmas! Long live the true King!" and cracked his whip, and he and the reindeer and the sledge and all were out of sight before anyone realized that they had started.

"If I ever make it home, Dawn is going to have a field day when I tell her Santa Claus is real," Buffy said as she laughed at the image of her sister finding out about Father Christmas. She turned her attention to the scythe in her hands, she could feel like the weapon belonged to her. She twirled it experimentally and smiled it was a good weapon.

"Now then, now then! Don't stand talking there till the tea's got cold," Mrs. Beaver said. "Come and help to carry the tray down and we'll have breakfast. What a mercy I thought of bringing the bread-knife."

So down the steep bank they went and back to the cave, and Mr. Beaver cut some of the bread and ham into sandwiches and Mrs. Beaver poured out the tea and everyone enjoyed themselves. But long before they had finished enjoying themselves Mr. Beaver said, "Time to be moving on now."