Chapter 8

In which more bad news comes and decisions are made

Lucy could hardly contain her excitement when she prepared to lead her siblings to Mr. Tumnus's cave. Susan kept close beside Peter, as though afraid he might keel over at any moment, and Edmund walked a few feet behind, still quiet and sulky.

"Mr. Tumnus is perfectly lovely," Lucy announced, frowning as Peter coughed. "You'll adore him!" she suddenly stopped short, nearly causing Peter to fall over her. He was about to inquire what she stopped for, but his question was answered merely seconds afterwards.

Before them stood a great cave, with a door built in. The door had been broken open, and was hanging barely from its hinges. Lucy cried out in alarm, and hurried ahead.

"Lu, wait!" Peter begged, and when they peered through the doorway, the sight was horrifying. Someone had broken in, knocking everything over. Lucy pushed aside the debris, stepping in, and Susan took Peter's arm to help him through the narrow archway. She held him tightly while they explored, and found it difficult to take everything in at once.

"I wish I had two more pairs of eyes," Peter told them, gazing up at the low ceiling. He coughed again, the winter chill starting to go into his bones. Susan rubbed his arms briskly, and looked at Lucy.

"Who would do something like this?" Lucy gasped, tears brimming her eyes. mm

"I'm so sorry, Lu," she said softly, and Peter noticed something white flapping about out of the corner of his eye. "What's that…" he eased away from Susan to go and inspect what he discovered was a piece of parchment hanging from a nail. He tugged it off, and Lucy clung to his arm, waiting for him to tell her what it said.

Edmund stood off to the side, still glancing around nervously, bundling himself in his fur coat.

"The faun, Tumnus, is hereby charged with high treason against her imperial majesty Jadis, the Queen of Narnia. For comforting her enemies and fraternizing with humans. Signed, Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police." Peter rubbed his nose when he finished reading the parchment, and turned to sneeze quickly. "HuhKshhuuh!"

"Bless you," said Susan softly, and she wrapped her arms around him. "You're half frozen."

Lucy bit her lip, staring at her older siblings with wide, anxious eyes. "We have to help him!" she exclaimed, and Peter smiled faintly.

"It's out of our hands, Lu," he whispered. "and Im starting not to feel well again. I think we should go back," he told Susan, who reached up to feel his forehead to be on the safe side.

"No, we can't," Lucy sobbed. "don't you get it? I'm the human! He's in trouble for being with me!"

Susan's gulped.

"We should call the police," Peter told her, she hung her head.

"They are the police," she said, pointing to the paper. "and if Mr. Tumnus is in trouble for just fraternizing with humans, then it's not safe here. And Peter, you're going to come down with pneumonia for sure if we continue to stand here in the cold! You're already starting to cough again." She listened as he attempted to hide another series of coughs into a fist, and he shook his head.

"But we can't just leave Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy wailed. "He saved Peter's life as well as mine!"

Peter looked at her, and then at Susan, who opened her mouth to protest again. "Lu's right," he said. "we have to do something." He bent down and took both of Lucy's hands in his, brushing a tear away from her cheek. "I promise we'll help him," he said, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"But he's a criminal!" Edmund injected, and Susan glared.

"You'll feel well soon, Peter," she whispered. "we're in Narnia, and the magic here will help." She kissed his cheek gratefully, and at that moment, a robin perched on the windowsill.

"Look!" Lucy gasped, and Peter stared…it looked like the bird that had hopped onto his window when he first opened his eyes after recovering from the fever.

"Psst!"

Susan stared. "Did that bird just…pssst…to us?" she asked, and Peter pressed the back of his wrist against his runny nose, sniffling.

"I think so," he replied, clearing his throat.

"Oh," Lucy gasped, and found the barrel that Mr. Tumnus kept his apples in, and snatched one. "I don't think he'll mind," she said, as she placed one into Peter's hand. "You'll feel better."

"An apple?" Peter asked, and she nodded.

"Your fever broke right after Professor Kirke gave you the applesauce," she explained, and he rolled the piece of fruit in his palm. He wasn't very hungry at all, but decided to take a small bite anyway, just to humor Lucy. They stepped out into the snow, and glanced up at the robin, who bared it's bright red breast at them and gave another, "psst!" before hopping and flying to another tree branch.

"Heh—hehKSHHHH! HuhEsHHHH!" Peter rubbed his nose again, wishing he'd remembered to pocket a handkerchief before leaving the house. Of course, he hadn't expected to come into a winter wonderland through the wardrobe, either.

"Bless you!" Susan and Lucy told him, and suddenly, a snap and the sound of pattering feet in the snow made them all pause. "Come on," Susan encouraged, and the four of them started forward, but stopped when they heard the sound of a branch snapping and a pitter patter of feet on the snow.

"Chshhhuh!" Peter buried his nose against his wrist, and sniffed. "I can't stop sneezing," he croaked, and Susan rubbed his back.

"Lu, do you have a fresh handkerchief?" she asked softly, and Lucy reached into the pocket of her skirt, shaking her head. Another snap and more pitter patter filled their ears, and the four siblings backed away, not quite sure what to think or do.

Peter, still holding Susan's hand, peered through the grove of bushes, from which the noise came, and saw a dark figure dash past. He encouraged Edmund and the girls to follow him, and they moved very slowly through the snow. "What did you see?" Susan whispered into his ear. "an animal?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Perhaps a bear!" she added, and he smiled softly at her.

Before they knew it, the figure Peter had seen slid fast down the snowy slope, and stopped in front of them. Peter and Susan stared at each other, and Lucy's mouth hung open.

"It…it's a beaver!" she gasped, and Peter grinned at once.

"Of course, I see it now," he said. "look at the tail!" He clucked his tongue, the same noise people use to call a dog to them. "Here, boy," he whispered, holding out his fingers and snapping them gently. The beaver stood on it's hind legs, cocking its head to one side. He clucked again, and moved closer, sticking out the palm of his hand for the beaver to come to.

For a moment, silence came between them, and then the beaver did something neither of the Pevensie children expected—it spoke!

"I ain't gonna smell it if that's what you're expecting," the beaver…a male beaver…said, and Susan gasped aloud.

"Sorry," Peter apologized, as Edmund spoke up at last…

"It's a talking beaver!"

The beaver made it's way to Lucy, and stuck out it's paw. "Lucy Pevensie?" he asked, and Peter looked at his baby sister, watching as she swallowed anxiously.

"Yes?"

The beaver produced something white and soft, which turned out to be a handkerchief. Lucy took the cloth from the animal's outstretched paw, and held it tight for a moment. Peter coughed, and Susan touched his arm, rubbing his back, and helped him to sit down on a fallen log.

"It's the handky I gave to Mr…" Lucy finally began, and the beaver nodded.

"Tumnus," he finished. "Yeah. He gave it just before they took him."

"Where did they take him?" she asked, and Mr. Beaver shook his head quickly.

"Not here," he said in a low voice. "come on, then…follow me, if you will."

Susan stood when the beaver scurried off, and Peter got to his feet also.

"We should follow him, I suppose," Peter announced, and Ed snorted.

"How do we know we can trust him?" he asked, and the other three stared.

"He said he knows the faun," Peter replied simply, and Susan raised her arms in exhasperation.

"He's a beaver," she exclaimed. "He shouldn't be saying anything! You're still ill, and it's getting colder by the minute! I say we go back," she breathed. "it's not safe to stay, I don't think."

Mr. Beaver popped his head between the grove of bushes that very moment, startling them into silence. "Are you four coming?" he asked, and Peter cleared his throat, nodding.

"Yes," he replied. "we were just talking."

"Well, best save any talkin' for safer quarters," Mr. Beaver whispered, and Lucy looked at him.

"But…who would be listening?" she asked, as Peter put a hand on her shoulder. "No one's here but us!"

The beaver pointed up. "The trees," he answered. "they're always listening. Most of them are on our side, but I've no doubt that there are a few who would betray us to her. So, keep your voices down, and hurry after me."

At last, the four siblings decided it was safer to follow the beaver rather than stand shivering in the snow. The journey was a bit slower than either of them would have liked, but Peter was still finding his feet, and moved slower than usual. He was near fainting from exhaustion when at last, they reached Mr. Beaver's dam.

"Here we are!" he announced, pointing to it proudly with his paw.

"Oh!" Lucy breathed. "It's lovely," she complimented, and the animal chuckled.

"Aha," he said. "merely a trifle, merely a trifle. And judging by the stream of smoke coming out of the chimney, I'd say Mrs. Beaver has begun preparing dinner. I hope you're all hungry."

Susan grinned. "You've read our minds," she replied, and Mr. Beaver once again took the lead. At last, they reached the hut, and were grateful to step into the Beaver's warm, cozy home. Peter started coughing as he removed his jacket, his teeth chattering from the damp. Mrs. Beaver was thrilled to have visitors, and absolutely ecstatic to learn that they were human.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day!" she exclaimed. "Welcome, welcome! Do come in and make yourselves right at home, dearies."

Susan, whose stomach growled, beamed. "Do you need any help, Mrs. Beaver?" she asked, watching as Lucy talked quietly to Mr. Beaver, occasionally nodding to Peter, who had taken a seat by the fire.

"Ah," Mr. Beaver said nodding in understanding. "A good cup of apple cider will do him some good. Seems like one of them is a bit ill, Mrs. Beaver…you don't happen to have anything warm for him to drink, eh?"

"Of course, of course. Just put on a pot of chocolate moments ago. You just sit there and rest, dear…don't worry about a thing." She told Peter, giving Susan a blanket to wrap around him.

"Are you sure you don't need…" he started, and Susan shook her head.

"Just sit and rest," she whispered, and eventually, she and Lucy began to help Mrs. Beaver set the table, while Mr. Beaver went out to catch a fresh batch of fish. Each of them were given a mug of hot cocoa, which was heavenly when they tried it. When the dinner was ready, the smell was so mouth watering that even Peter, who hadn't eaten much since his fever broke, felt his stomach roaring madly.

"Here," Susan encouraged, helping him to his feet, and leading him over to the miniature table. Edmund hadn't said much at all since they arrived at the dam, though the other three were getting used to that now.

"This looks delicious," Lucy told the Beavers as she waited politely for everyone to help themselves to the food, and when Mr. Beaver gave the word, they began to dig in.

"Don't eat too fast," Susan warned Peter, and Mrs. Beaver laughed gently.

"My dear, I am sure he is perfectly capable of going for one meal without fuss, mmm?" she asked, and Susan blushed.

After dinner and another round of hot chocolate, Mr. Beaver lit up his pipe, and gathered them around the fireplace. "Now," he said gruffly, "that we've all been fed, we can pay close attention to what I'm going to tell you."

The children leaned forward, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Oh…" Lucy begged, "do please tell us what happened to Mr. Tumnus!"

Peter took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

"Ah," Mr. Beaver said, through puffs of smoke. "as I said…that's a bad business a very bad business in deed. He was taken away by the police merely two days ago."

Peter stared. "Do you have any idea where they've taken him?" he asked, tuggin the blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

"Are you still cold, dear?" Mrs. Beaver asked, sounding concerned, and Peter shook his head.

"Well," Mr. Beaver continued, "last I heard of him they were bringing Tumnus up North. And we all know what that means." He narrowed his eyes.

Peter sniffed, and shook his head. "Sorry," he apologized. "No…we're strangers here, you see."

The beavers glanced at each other. "They're taking him to Her," Mr. Beaver continued.

"He means the White Witch," Lucy explained, seeing that Peter and Susan were still confused. "she's the one who makes it always winter here in Narnia." She turned back to Mr. Beaver. "Oh, but…whatever will she do to Mr. Tumnus when she gets a hold of him?"

"Well," Mr Beaver replied, "no one really knows for sure. But there's not many taken to her house who come out again. All full of statues they say it is…in the courtyard and up the stairs and in the hall. People she's…" he paused. "turned to stone."

Peter suddenly turned away, trying to stifle another sneeze, but failing rather miserably at it. "HemMmmpshh!" he was blushing furiously, glad that the heat from the flames already made his cheeks rosy. "sorry," he quickly apologized, and Susan smiled at him.

"But there must be something we can do to help him, Mr. Beaver!" Lucy cried. "It's too horrible, and it's all my fault if it happens!"

"Lucy's right," Peter agreed. "there has to be something we can do to save Mr. Tumnus. Some kind of strategy, I mean."

"What are you thinking about, Peter?" Susan asked, and he looked at his lap for a moment.

"We could pretend to be peddlers or something along the like," he said. "disguises, that sort of thing, and sneak into her house."

"Oh you're batty," Susan gasped. "are you sure you're feeling all right?"

He smirked, and Mr. Beaver shook his head. "There's no use in your trying to save him, son of Adam…not you of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move…"

"Wait, who?" Lucy asked, and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver stared at one another, as if they were mad.

"Who is Aslan?" Mr. Beaver cried. "Blimey, she's not serious is she?"

"We're sorry," Peter apologized. "we don't know much about this place." He felt Susan lean her head against his shoulder, the heat from the fire and the full meal in her stomach making her sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her and leaned his head against hers, not really taking notice that once again, Edmund hadn't said a single word since supper ended.

"Well tell them, dear," Mrs. Beaver encouraged, fetching a pile of fresh handkerchiefs, and passing them over to Peter.

"Aslan," Mr. Beaver continued, "is the King of course! The King of the entire wood! Though he's not often here, you see…never in my time, anyway, or my father's tiem. But the word has come that he's come back. In fact, he is in Narnia at this very moment, and will settle everything to rights."

"She won't turn him into stone, too?"

Peter jumped…Edmund was standing right behind him, his eyes narrowed, and Mr. Beaver gave a loud guffaw.

"Lord love you, Son of Adam, what a simple thing to say!" Mr. Beaver chortled. "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 can expect of her. No, he'll put everything righta gain."

"Shall we meet him?" Susan asked, watching as Peter pulled Lucy onto his lap.

"That's what I brought you here for!" Mr. Beaver exclaimed. "I'm to lead you to where you shall meet him."

"Is he a man, Mr. Beaver?" Lucy asked.

"A man? No, certainly not! He is the King…the King of beasts, that is!"

Peter blinked. "He's a lion!" he breathed, and Susan stared.

"Oooh! Is he quite safe? I swore Aslan was going to be a man."

Mr. Beaver chuckled. "Oh, no, he's not safe at all, but he's good. Yes, he's good."

The children were quiet again, and Peter gave another cough, sipping from a fresh cup of hot chocolate. "I am longing to see him," he admitted. "even if I will feel frightened when it comes to the point."

"That's right," Mr. Beaver agreed with a nod. "And so you shall. I'm going to take you to him tomorrow, at the stone table."

"Where's that?" asked Lucy.

"It's down the river, a good step from here."

"What about poor Mr. Tumnus?" she added, a bit disappointed that the beavers hadn't brought the faun up again.

"The quickest way you can help him is by going to meet Aslan," Mr. Beaver answered her. "once he's with us, then we can start doing things. Not that we don' tneed you too…here's a rhyme you should know:

When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone

Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,

The evil time will be over and done.

I hope you know about the prophecy? That's the main reason you can't go and rescue Mr. Tumnus yourselves, and risk being captured or worse."

The blank stares of the children made Mr. Beaver throw his paws up in exhasperation. "You don't know, you don't know!" he cried. "she's always on the look out, the white witch, for humans in Narnia. There's a prophey that when two son's of adam and two daughters of eve enter Narnia and take the four thrones at the castle, her reign will end."

Peter rubbed his nose after setting down his mug. The information was overwhelming, though he was feeling much better in general since supper and the cocoa. "That's just what I don't understand," he admitted. "Mr. Beaver, isn't the witch herself…human?"

"Ha! She'd like people to believe she is," Mr. Beaver replied with a snort. "Not a bloody drop of human blood in her at all. She makes her claim as Queen of Narnia because she looks human. You see, she comes of your father Adam's…first wife. They called her Lilith. And she was one of the Jinn…that's what she comes from on one side. And on the other she comes from the giants. No, no, there is no human in her."

"That's why she's bad all around," Mrs. Beaver explained."

"So…the four of us…and the four thrones at Cair Paravel…" Peter blinked. "because the prophecy states that when humans take the four thrones her reign will end…"

"Yes," Mr. Beaver nodded vigorously. "Yes, you've got it."

He looked at Susan and Lucy. "There must be a mistake," he quickly added. "we're not heroes. I was just really ill, and couldn't possibly help battle the witch…and…"

"No, there's no mistake," Mr. Beaver replied. "not if Aslan is on the move."

Susan grasped Peter's arm. "We have to go," she said sternly. "Peter, we have to go back."

He nodded, and the beavers were horrified. "Go!" Mrs. Beaver gasped. "You couldn't!"

"This is not for us to do," Susan told her.

"Oh…but…" Mrs. Beaver began, when Lucy suddenly gasped,

"Say…where is Edmund?"

Peter and Susan stared at each other, and Peter looked behind him. Edmund had been standing there merely minutes before, but now, sure enough, he was gone. The three remaining siblings stood up immediately, and looked around the main room frantically.

"Who saw him last?" Susan asked, and Peter shrugged, looking anxious.

"D'you think he's outside?" Lucy cried, rushing over to the coat hooks on the wall. "His fur coat's missing," she gasped, and Peter blinked.

"I'm going to kill him," he snarled. "if he's run off, I'm going to kill him."

Mr. Beaver looked worried. "You mightn't have to," he said softly, as they stepped out into the snow after putting on their coats.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, sniffling as the cold struck him.

"Has your brother ever been in Narnia before?" he asked, and Lucy nodded.

"Yes, he has," she replied, rubbing Peter's arms and trying to keep him warm.

"And he didn't tell you anything about his visit, did he?"

She thought for a moment, and shook her head. "No," she admitted. "he didn't."

"Then my suspicions are correct," Mr. Beaver said. "he's met her, no doubt. And that's exactly where he's gone. Her house…the white witch. He's betrayed us all!"

"Oh really!" Susan breathed, her lips trembling. "He can't have done that!"

"Mark my words," Mr. Beaver told her. "I saw it in his eyes when I first met him. He had that treacherous look, you know…the look of someone who has met the white witch and eaten her food. You can always tell who has been with her when you've lived here in Narnia long enough…something about their eyes."

The three remaining siblings were silent.

"We have to go and find him," Peter said. "we can't just leave him here, even if he is a beast. He's just a kid!"

"Go to the white witch's house?" Mrs. Beaver cried. "Don't you see that the only chance of saving yourselves is keeping away from her? She's using your brother as bait, you see…she's luring you to her with him, so she can capture you and destroy the prophecy."

"Right you are, Mrs. Beaver," Mr. Beaver agreed. "no, there's nothing to be done for your brother. Only Aslan can help him now."

Peter blew out his breath, and then Mrs. Beaver suddenly had a thought. "It seems to me, that we ought to remember just what point in time he slipped away. How much did we tell him while he was here? Was he here when we spoke of Aslan and the Stone table?"

Peter thought for a moment, biting his lip. "Yes, he was," Lucy replied. "Don't you remember…it was he who asked whether the white witch could turn Aslan to stone too?"

Peter groaned. "Yes he did," he agreed. "just the sort of thing he would say, too!"

"Because of that," Mr. Beaver continued, "she'll know where to go, and simply sledge her way down and come between us and Aslan. The moment Edmund tells her about us, she'll leave, I'e no doubt. If he's been gone for a half hour, she'll be here in about twenty minutes."

"Then we'd better get out of here," Peter exclaimed. He felt very ill and tired…the cold weakened him. "fast, if we want to get out of her way."

"Let us pack some previsions, first," Mrs. Beaver announced. "come on, dearies, out of the chill…you're looking peaky for sure, and could do with a bit of cocoa before we depart."

"But…" Susan began, and Mrs. Beaver without another word, bustled into the dam. Mr. Beaver looked furious, and groaned loudly, slapping his tail against the snow in frustration.

"Do be reasonable, Mrs. Beaver…we've no time, we've no time!"

"Of course we do! We have to have some provisions for the journey, food and the like, and I know how cranky you get when you don't eat!"

"But I'm cranky now!" Mr. Beaver exclaimed, and the four of them shoved back into the dam.

Unfortunately, Mr. Beaver's warning about the white witch being on her way was correct in deed; coming closer and closer, a pack of wolves moved towards the river, their growls echoing in the winter night. Maugrim and his pack, the white witch's own secret police.