Chapter 5

The Magic Apples

Lucy reached the wardrobe quickly, sobs still wracking her small body. She fumbled with the knob on the door, pulling it open, and pushed her way through the hoards of coats. She could see her breath coming out in white puffs, and soon, felt her feet crunching upon drifts of white snow.

It was early morning in Narnia, and the lamppost burned even more brightly than before. Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, biting her lip, and hoping she knew how to find the way to Mr. Tumnus' cave again. What she didn't know, of course, was that Edmund—who had come out of the bathroom at the same time she passed by—decided to follow her.

He'd missed her entrance to Narnia by several minutes, of course, because he had to hide from Mrs. Macready, who made an appearance to check on them. He was determined to find what Lucy was raving about. This…magical land inside the wardrobe. He wanted to catch her at her game, and put a stop to the nonsense once and for all.

Lucy, who feared she would't know the way, eventually recognized certain trees, and soon found herself knocking on the door to the faun's home. She sniffed, wiping her nose with the corner of her sleeve, and stepped back when the door opened. Mr. Tumnus merely peeked through the crack in the door, and anxiously whispered, "Who is it?" before allowing the intruder entrance.

"It's me," Lucy replied. "Lucy Pevensie."

Mr. Tumnus sighed with relief, and pulled the door open halfway. He was still wearing his nightshirt and had a night cap over his horns, looking rather silly. Lucy, however, was too upset to comment, and Mr. Tumnus helped her inside.

"Lucy?" he asked, immediately preparing cups of tea for both of them. "What are you doing here this early?"

"Well," Lucy hiccoughed, slumping down in the chair she'd used before when she came to visit, "it's actually nighttime where I'm from. My brother is still very sick," she added, as Mr. Tumnus handed her a teacup. "and since he drank the tea you gave me to give him, he's been getting worse. Oh Mr. Tumnus…please…there must be…something you can do!" she began wailing again, her great tears falling into the tea and making it splash over the sides.

The faun looked rather uncomfortable; it was clear he was not quite ready to begin the day yet, but he did not want to be rude to his guest and say so. "I am dreadfully sorry," he apologized. "it is a well known remedy of my people. Perhaps what works well with us fauns, does not work well with a son of adam. We are a different breed, you know."

Lucy took a small sip of her tea, her hands trembling. "I'm so terribly frightened, Mr. Tumnus," she whispered, accepting a fresh handkerchief. "Peter needs mother, and she can't come. She won't know if he…oh…" she set the tea on the table, and buried her face in her hands.

"Dear me oh dear me," Mr. Tumnus muttered to himself. "Let us think of what to do. Shshhsh…there there, please don't cry so, Lucy. You are breaking my heart with those tears!" he put a hand on her shoulder, and Lucy lifted her head.

"I am sorry, Mr. Tumnus," she gulped. "but…I d-don't know what t-to do."

"Let me think, now," Mr. Tumnus replied, and went over to his bookshelf, where he pulled out a thick volume. Lucy recognized the binding at once—it was a large text called, "Is Man a Myth?" and the faun brought it over to his chair, where he opened it on his lap after sitting down. He began to flip through the pages, peering closely at the chapter titles, and continuing to mutter to himself.

"What are you doing, Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy asked, listening as he muttered under his breath.

"I remember hearing a story," Mr. Tumnus began, "about a human boy who came here looking for a fruit…that saved his mother from dying. It was very long ago, however…right at the dawn of time, when this world was first created. Vey long ago in deed."

Lucy sat up straighter. "You mean…" she began, "that Narnian apples can save lives?" she wet her lips. "Do you have apples, Mr. Tumnus?"

Mr. Tumnus held up his hand for silence, and read the book very closely. "Ah, of course! Here it is: Human's First Entrance into Narnia." He pointed to the middle of the page, and looked at Lucy. "Indeed it was an apple," he said, "and I happen to love apples myself. It is a fruit that brings health to all of us, not just animals, but humans as well. I was so quick to think of our own remedies, Lucy."

Lucy managed a small smile, tapping her tea cup gently with her fingertips. "I'm afraid my brother's throat is so swollen," she began, "that he can barely take anything down. Eating an apple will hurt him so," she explained, and Mr. Tumnus thought for a moment.

"Well, it does not have to be an entire apple of course. I must admit, I am a rather skilled expert at making applesauce. That will do well for a swollen throat."

Lucy sipped from her tea, and smiled. "Ooooh," she breathed. "I do love applesauce! And I've not had it in ages…" she licked her lips at the very thought of the sweet treat. Mr. Tumnus chuckled, and shut the book, setting it aside.

"As do I, my dear friend," he replied. "I am very glad you came to see me today. I have not stopped thinking of you since you left."

Lucy stood after finishing the last of her tea, and began to help him prepare for the making of the sauce. She had absolutely no idea that Edmund was wandering about the woods, calling her name and feeling very cold and nervous.

He'd indeed found Narnia, though no Lucy. "Lu?" he called, his voice echoing amongst the endless rows of trees. "I think I believe you now!" he glanced over his shoulder when he thought he heard hoofbeats and bells, but he shook it off. "Lucy! Where are you?" he was nearly soaked to the skin from the snow, wishing he'd brought one of those old coats out of the wardrobe. He wanted nothing more than to go back to bed where it was warm and cozy, though that was not going to happen.

What did happen, however, was what he least expected for sure. The sound of hoofbeats and bells grew louder, until it was right upon him. With a cry of alarm, Edmund attempted to run out of the way, but he felt something snag his ankle and pull him roughly to the ground. He hit the snow with a thud, lying flat on his back for a moment with shock.

When his vision cleared, he realized he was staring at an enormous white carriage. Sitting in the drivers seat was a very tall woman, dressed all in white. Her hair, very long and the color of fresh wheat, hung loose at her shoulders. She carried a wand in one hand and the reins in another, and stared at him through very cold, green eyes.

Edmund immediately scrambled to his feet, though realized his foot was still tangled in the rope, and tripped when he tried to dash away. "There is no need to run," the woman told him in a smoothe voice. "No need to be frightened. Stand and face me, then, will you?"

Edmund, still feeling very uncomfortable, struggled to his feet, keeping a very close eye on the dwarf who stood beside the carriage, holding a sharp knife in his hand. "I'm…" Edmund began, but the rest of the words were lost to his lips. The extravagantly dressed woman continued to stare at him, and then smiled gently. "What, pray," she began again, "are you?"

Edmund straightened up, trying to hide his discomfort. "My name is…Edmund," he replied, a bit confused by her question, and the woman closed her eyes.

"Is that how you address a Queen?" she asked, narrowing her eyes even further, and Edmund did a double take.

"Oh, I beg your pardon your magesty, I didn't know," he apologized quickly, feeling very stupid. How he would like to give Lucy a knock about the head when he found her…for poking her nose into a place like this!

"Not know the Queen of Narnia?" the woman asked, alarmed. "Ha! You shall know us better hereafter. But I repeat, what are you? Are you a dwarf, perhaps, who has had it's beard cut off?"

Edmund wanted to ask what she meant by such a silly question, but he knew better than to try her patience. "No, your magesty" he said. "I'm a boy."

She raised her eyes, looking rather excited. "You are a Son of Adam?" she asked, lowering her wand. Edmund stood rooted on the spot, not understanding what she was going on about. "Well," she said, after a few moments of silence, "you are an idiot, I can see that. But praytell, how did you come into these parts?"

And so, Edmund told her of the spare room and the wardrobe, and how he'd been following his sister who came here before. He also told the Queen about the faun, Mr. Tumnus, and when he gave a great shiver at last, she opened up her robe.

"You must be freezing," she said. "Come, sit by me, and I will prepare a warm drink for you." She opened a small, silver phial, and allowed a tiny drop to hit the snow. In the drop's place stood a large goblet, which Edmund soon found steaming with a warm, sweet, foamy drink. He'd never tasted anything so wonderful in his life, and it warmed every inch of his body from the inside out. The dwarf who stood beside the carriage watched with a scowl on his face, but said nothing.

When Edmund was finished with his drink, the Queen asked if he would like something specific to eat. He thought for a moment, and then looked at her. "Yes, please, your magesty," he said eagerly, "might I have some Turkish Delight?"

And with that, a platter appeared out of thin air, containing piles of the sweet treat. As Edmund ate his meal, the Queen continued to ask him questions. She asked if he had anymore siblings, and, when she found out he had four, she seemed to grow even more excited, still.

"I should very much like to meet these siblings of yours," she said, as Edmund continued to eat his Turkish Delight. Edmund looked up, and raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked, forgetting that he was supposed to be addressing a Queen. "They're nothing special."

"Well," she continued, "I am sure that is true…that they are not nearly as lovely as you are. However, I would very much like a boy of my own to take back to my palace, and raise as a prince and then one day have him become King of Narnia in my stead. And as a King, I am sure you will need servants, will you not?"

Edmund nearly dropped his piece of Turkish Delight. The thought of Peter, Susan and Lucy serving under him was one of the best ideas he'd ever heard.

"I would like that very much, your Majesty," he replied, and the Queen smiled, taking away his platter of Turkish Delight.

"Yes, I know you would," she replied sweetly. "Which is why, I am going to take this away. Sometimes, too much of a good thing can be harmful, you know. However…when you return to my house with your brother and sisters, there will be rooms full of Turkish Delight…I promise."

Edmund lowered his head. "Why can I not come and visit you now?" he asked, for he wanted nothing but the Turkish Delight.

"Because," she replied, "I very much wish to meet your siblings, and you will become so entranced by my house that you will forget about them. I give you my solemn word that there will be plenty of the treat for you, if you do this for me."

Edmund sighed, very annoyed in deed, and feeling rather sick from all of the sweets. "Yes, your Majesty," he replied, and she pinched his cheek gently.

"Good boy. I do hope I will see you soon?"

Edmund watched as she bundled herself in her coat again, and, with a soft "Yah!" sent the horse into motion again.

When her sleigh disappeared beyond a grove of trees, he was left alone in the cold and silence of the woods. "Lucy?" he called, suddenly remembering why he'd come, though she still didn't answer him.

Lucy was just, at that moment, helping Mr. Tumnus spread sweet honey evenly throughout the smooth applesauce. Each of them were able to eat a bowl before preparing one for Peter, and Lucy kissed Mr. Tumnus on the cheek.

"You are wonderful," she breathed, as he covered the bowl with a lid.

"I do hope your brother feels better quickly, Lucy," Mr. Tumus replied.

"Oh, so do I," Lucy answered. "I do not know how I am going to get everyone out of the room to give this to him, though…it will be a bit of a trick, as I am technically supposed to be asleep myself."

Mr. Tumnus chuckled and hugged her tight. "I will see you soon, I hope, Lucy," he said, and she gave a small wave.

"Goodbye, Mr. Tumnus, and thank you very much again," she added, and, as she left the cave, she was startled to see Edmund stumbling about and looking exceptionally peaky. "Ed!" she cried, nearly dropping the bowl of applesauce. Her older brother whirled around at her voice, and blinked through the snowflakes that fell. "Oh Ed, so you've gotten in too! I knew you would!" she gave him a great hug with her free arm. "Now the others will have to believe me, since both of us have been here! What jolly times we'll have now!" she paused, looking closely at his face. "Are you all right?" she asked. "you look awful…"

Edmund rubbed his arms, eyeing the bowl Lucy held curiously. "Well," he began, "what d'you expect? It's freezing! And how do we get out of here?"

Lucy wet her lips, and then took his hand. "Come on," she encouraged, and the two of them made their way towards the lamppost. They made their way back through the wardrobe, where they heard Peter coughing and wheezing loudy from downstairs.

"There, there, now…try to breathe through your nose," they could hear Mrs. Macready telling him, and Lucy held the hot applesauce to her breast. "Hold this for me, please…thank you."

The two youngest Pevensie children made their way down the steps, and peered though the door. The Professor and Mrs. Macready were still standing by Peter's bed, only this time, a small basin was sitting on his lap. He was sobbing and gulping for air, wheezing when the Professor dabbed at his chest and neck with a damp cloth. "I think we're getting something," the Professor said, as Peter suddenly lurched forward, and coughed up a mouthful of sticky substance into another basin. The steam from the one on his lap caused beads of sweat to pop out on his forehead and cheeks, leaving him so flushed and wax-like.

"Going to bed," Edmund told Lucy, who looked at him. Mrs. Macready seemed to sense their presence…it was almost as though she had eyes on the back of her head.

"What are you still doing up?" she asked, and Peter, swallowing, lifted his head from the basin. He caught sight of Lucy, and reached a hand out for her.

Professor Kirke nodded for Lucy to come in, even though Mrs. Macready began to protest.

"What is that you've got there?" the Professor asked, noticing the bowl in Lucy's hands, and she bit her lip.

"Applesauce," she whispered, and Mrs. Macready raised an eyebrow.

"Having a bit of a late night snack, are we?" she asked in a stern voice, and Professor Kirke chuckled.

"Now, now, Macready, a snack is perfectly harmless," he said, and Lucy shook her head.

"It isn't for me," she said softly. "it's for Peter."

Mrs. Macready gave a loud, "Hmmph! Your brother is not in the right condition for applesauce! I daresay, girl, the oddest ideas come into that head of yours."

"Well, perhaps it wouldn't hurt for Peter to have something in his stomach," Professor Kirke suggested. "He's not taken in more than a cup of tea in about three days."

"He'll choke on it," Mrs. Macready said. "he can barely breathe let alone swallow that concoction!"

Peter held Lucy's free hand when she came towards the bed, and pulled her close, so her forehead was touching his. "Lu," he choked, and she choked on a sob.

"Peter…" she whispered. "I'm all right, I promise."

He smoothed her hair, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "You're not finished yet," Mrs. Macready told Peter firmly. "You've at least five minutes left. And then we shall see about the applesauce, but I do not want to rush things."

Peter managed a weak smile when Lucy parted from him. "Love…you," he said hoarsely. He could barely say those two words before coughing again, and the Professor put a hand on Lucy's shoulder.

"That's it, my boy…cough as hard as you can."

Edmund, meanwhile, had gone back to sleep…though all he could think about was the wonderful Turkish Delight he'd been given by the Queen in Narnia.

Lucy wanted to cry, "Stop it, you're hurting him!" when Peter coughed and spat another mouthful of phlegmn, but she was crying too hard to do so.

"My dear…you should not be here for this," Professor Kirke said softly. "this is not for young eyes to see."

Peter, once he was able to take a deep breath, said, "want…sister…" he sniffed, coughing hard again.

"He is delirious, Lucy," Professor Kirke explained. "he is not in his right state of mind. Go on to bed now…we'll give him the applesauce afterwards, I promise, love."

Lucy stared at the Professor, her eyes still filled with tears, and quickly left the room before Peter could see her.

Once Peter had coughed up all he could muster, Mrs. Macready went to empty the basins. Professor Kirke bathed the sick boy's face with a clean rag, and eased him back against the pillows. "I know you are not even wanting to think about eating anything, lad," he began, taking the applesauce into his hands, "but food is essential, even if you are ill."

Peter's breathing, though still very uneven, had relaxed a bit since the menthol steam bath, but he was dead tired from the coughing. He watched as the Professor opened the lid to the applesauce, and swallowed painfully past his swollen throat. Professor Kirke gasped when he caught the scent of the mixture…it was so very familiar somehow, and not the same scent as apples in this world. There was something…strange about these, something…he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He stirred the mixture with the spoon, and dipped it in.

"Mmmm," Peter groaned as he was sitting upright against the headboard. Mrs. Macready returned at that moment with an extra blanket, and watched as Professor Kirke eased the first spoonful of applesauce into the boy's mouth.

"Pure madness, Professor," she breathed. "do you think he'll be able to stomach that at this stage?"

"I assure you," Professor Kirke replied, "he will. Macready, sometimes you need to take a step backwards, if you will allow me to be truthful. You seem to forget who is in charge of this house."

Macready started to say something in return, but thought better of it, and merely pursed her lips with a small nod. "I apologize, Professor," she said coolly.

Peter swallowed the applesauce with a bit of difficulty, but even through his plugged up nose, he was able to taste it slightly. It was the most wonderful thing he'd ever had in his life, and already, a warm, comfortable tingle spread throughout his aching body. "Good boy," Professor Kirke told him, waiting until he was ready before giving him another spoonful. Before either of the adults knew it, Peter had finished the entire bowl.

"I think he will be all right alone tonight," Professor Kirke said, once he set the empty bowl aside, and eased Peter back against the pillows and pulling the extra blanket around him.

"Professor, are you sure that's wise?" Mrs. Macready asked, as Peter's eyes drooped. The Professor touched the boy's cheek softly, and nodded.

"He'll be fine. I do believe he needs at least one night without fuss." Once Peter was sound asleep, the Professor turned down the lamp, and went to open the curtains a crack, allowing the moonlight to stream in.

"I've not had a restful sleep myself in at least three days," Mrs. Macready said, as she'd not slept a wink since the boy fell so deathly ill. "I do believe we both need it. And if he needs us, Susan is across the hall, and will hear him. I'll inform her to keep an ear open if she will."

"No fuss," Professor Kirke repeated. "there is no need to wake the other children…they are all exhausted." The two adults stood in the doorway, watching as Peter slept, occasionally shifting under the covers to stay comfortable. They shut the door part of the way, grateful to be getting some proper shut eye at last.

Lucy, meanwhile, knelt beside the bed she shared with Susan, her hands clasped together, and her head bowed. She said her prayers every night, twice a day since Peter fell sick. "I'll not ask for anything else ever if you make my brother well," she whispered, making the sign of a cross. A star twinkled brightly in the distance, catching her eye. She smiled fondly at it, before climbing carefully into bed, and snuggling in next to Susan.

The house eventually grew quiet, except for the occasional snores of Susan and Edmund. Lucy eventually closed her own eyes, tucking her hands beneath her cheek, and drifted off to sleep.