Into the wardrobe, then into the... forest?!

This house of the Professor's— which even he knew so little about— was so old and famous that people from all over England used to come and ask permission to see over it. It was the sort of house that is mentioned in guidebooks and even in histories; and well it might be, for all manner of stories were told about it, some of them even stranger than the one I am telling you now. And when parties of sightseers arrived and asked to see the house, the Professor always gave them permission, and Missus Macready, the housekeeper, showed them around, telling them about the pictures and the armor, and the rare books in the library. Though Ella was clearly the only exception, Missus Macready was not fond of children and did not like to be interrupted when she was telling visitors all the things she knew.

She had said to Susan and Peter almost on the first morning (along with a good many other instructions), "And please remember you're to keep out of the way whenever I'm taking a party over the house."

"Just as if any of us would want to waste half the morning trailing round with a crowd of strange grown-ups!" said Edmund, and the other three thought the same. That was how the adventures began for the second time.

A few mornings later Peter and Edmund were looking at the suit of armor and wondering if they could take it to bits when the two girls rushed into the room and said, "Look out! Here comes the Macready and a whole gang with her."

"Let's go outside, it's much less crowded," said Peter, and all four made off down the stairs and outside to play some cricket.

Lucy went to sit by herself under a tree shade, a book opened on her lap, though she was not really reading it; she was wondering where Ella could be. She'd been missing for six days now, counting the current day. Was it possible that she had finally gone back to Narnia? Lucy gasped— was it possible that she, herself, would go back to Narnia? As usual, her fantasies were cut short by her siblings loud speaking.

"Peter winds up, goes for the bowl!" Peter exclaimed as he threw the ball.

Edmund grunted when it hit his leg. "Ow!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Whoops! Wake up, Dolly Daydream!"

Edmund sighed. "Can't we play hide and go seek again?"

"I thought you said that it was a kid's game."

"Besides, we can all use the fresh air," Susan chimed in.

"Not like there's air inside," Edmund grumbled sarcastically.

"You know why we can't. The Macready would bust us for interrupting her tour."

"I still think it's stupid," Edmund muttered. "Bringing people to give them a tour of the house."

Rolling his eyes, Peter called out to him. "Are you ready then?"

Feeling challenged, Edmund replied, "Are you?" as he smacked his bat on the ground, getting ready to hit the ball.

Peter pitched the ball, hard, and Edmund whacked it good and it smashed through an upstairs window, crashing into a suit of armor. They all ran back inside to find the suit of armor the Pevensie boys had been staring at earlier that day.

"Well, that took it down to bits." Peter sighed, shaking his head. "Well done, Ed!"

Edmund glared at him. "You bowled it!"

Susan quickly hushed them. "Listen, Missus Macready is coming!"

"Sharp's the word," said Peter, and all four made off through the door at the far end of the room.

But when they had got out into the Green Room and beyond it, into the Library, they suddenly heard voices ahead of them, and realized that Missus Macready must be bringing her party of sightseers up the back stairs— instead of up the front stairs as they had expected. And after that— whether it was that they lost their heads, or that Missus Macready was trying to catch them, or that some magic in the house had come to life and was chasing them into Narnia they seemed to find themselves being followed everywhere.

At last Susan said, "Oh bother those trippers! Here— let's get into the Wardrobe Room till they've passed. No one will follow us in there."

But the moment they were inside they heard the voices in the passage— and then someone fumbling at the door— and then they saw the handle turning.

"Quick!" said Peter, "there's nowhere else," and flung open the wardrobe.

All four of them bundled inside it and sat there, panting, in the dark. Peter held the door closed but did not shut it; for, of course, he remembered, as every sensible person does, that you should never ever shut yourself up in a wardrobe.

"I wish the Macready would hurry up and take all these people away," said Susan presently, "I'm getting horribly cramped."

"And what a filthy smell of camphor!" said Edmund.

"I expect the pockets of these coats are full of it," said Susan, "to keep away the moths."

"There's something sticking into my back," said Peter.

"And isn't it cold?" said Susan.

"Now that you mention it, it is cold," said Peter, "and hang it all, it's wet too. What's the matter with this place? I'm sitting on something wet. It's getting wetter every minute." He struggled to his feet.

"Let's get out," said Edmund, "they've gone."

"O-o-oh!" said Susan suddenly. "Peter?"

"What?"

"Are your trousers wet?"

Peter and Susan looked down to see they were sitting on a patch of snow. Holding their breaths, they turned slowly, eyes widening in shock as they stepped out of the wardrobe. Now there was no mistaking it and all four children stood blinking in the daylight of a winter day. Behind them were coats hanging on pegs, in front of them were snow-covered trees. Peter and Susan gaped in amazement, craning their heads to look up at the treetops.

"Impossible!" Susan breathed out, glancing around in shock.

"Don't worry..." Lucy casually stepped up next to them. "I'm sure it's just your imagination."

Susan finally blinked. "Oh, my gosh!"

And Peter looked down at Lucy. "I don't suppose saying we're sorry would quite cover it."

She regarded him with a serious look on her face as she shook her head. "You're right. It wouldn't." A smirk then made its way onto her face as she pulled out a snowball and whipped it at Peter. "But that might!"

The three of them scrambled into a brief, wild snowball fight, which only ended, however, when an errant snowball flew through the air and hit a very guilty-looking Edmund in the face.

"Ow! Stop it!"

The fight stopped and they all stared at him, Peter and Susan finally realizing he had indeed lied.

Peter gave a low whistle. "You little liar!" He shook his head in disbelief. "You were here, weren't you?"

Edmund wiped the snow from his cheek, defiant. "You didn't believe her either."

Susan sighed. "Ed, don't— "

"Apologize to Lucy," Peter demanded.

"It was just a joke," Edmund defended himself.

"Say you're sorry!" Peter grabbed Edmund and twisted his arm.

Lucy stared at them with wide eyes. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

"Say it," Peter ordered.

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Alright! I'm sorry."

Peter looked at Edmund, disgusted, then walked as far away from him as he could. The Pevensies stayed there for a moment, just standing there in silence until Susan decided to break it.

"Maybe we should go back," she said.

Edmund just stared through the trees as two dark hills in the distance.

"I think Lucy should decide what we do," said Peter, looking down at Lucy, who instantly smiled.

"Let's go see Mister Tumnus!"

Peter smiled. "Mister Tumnus, it is."

Susan frowned, looking down at their clothes. "We can't go hiking in the snow dressed like this."

Peter glanced back then reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a fur coat, handing it to Susan. She looked from the wardrobe to a pine tree. "... I really don't understand."

Lucy reached in and grabbed a coat of her own. "I suppose the Professor wouldn't mind us using them."

Peter took a coat for himself. "Well really, we're not even taking them out of the wardrobe." He grabbed reached back inside side, then handed Edmund a particularly feminine coat.

The younger boy glared up at him. "That's a girl's coat!"

Peter gave him a blank look. "I know." And he simply shoved the coat at Edmund, who grabbed it, sullen.

The coats were rather too big for them so that they came down to their heels and looked more like royal robes than coats when they had put them on. But they all felt a good deal warmer and each thought the others looked better in their new get-up and more suitable to the landscape.

"We can pretend we are Arctic explorers," Lucy mused.

"This is going to be exciting enough without pretending," said Peter, as he began leading the way forward into the forest. There were heavy darkish clouds overhead and it looked as if there might be more snow before night.

"I say," began Edmund presently, "oughtn't we to be bearing a bit more to the left, that is, if we are aiming for the lamp-post?"

He had forgotten for the moment that he must pretend never to have been in the wood before. The moment the words were out of his mouth he realized that he had given himself away. Everyone stopped; everyone stared at him.

Peter whistled again. "So you really were here," he said, "that time Lu said she'd met you in here— and you made out she was telling lies." There was a dead silence. "Well, of all the poisonous little beasts—" said Peter, and shrugged his shoulders and said no more.

There seemed, indeed, no more to say, and presently the four resumed their journey; but Edmund was saying to himself, "I'll pay you all out for this, you pack of stuck-up, self-satisfied prigs."

"Are you sure we're even going the right way, Peter? We've never even been here," said Susan, chiefly for the sake of changing the subject, as she motioned to him and herself. "I think Lu ought to be the leader since she knows where the... Faun is."

Lucy smiled widely and nodded as the rest of them agreed to this and off they went walking briskly and stamping their feet. Lucy proved a good leader. At first, she wondered whether she would be able to find the way, but she recognized an odd-looking tree on one place and a stump in another and brought them on to where the ground became uneven and into the little valley and at last to the very door of Mister Tumnus's cave. But, there, a terrible surprise awaited them.

She gasped and ran forward.

"Lucy!" Peter exclaimed himself in surprise before running after her, Susan and Edmund at his heels.

Lucy stopped a few feet away, mouth fallen open as she stared at the disaster before her with eyes widened in shock. Her siblings stopped right behind her, their expressions that of shock as well.

The door had been wrenched off its hinges and broken to bits. Inside, the cave was dark and cold and had the damp feel and smell of a place that had not been lived in for several days. Snow had drifted in from the doorway and was heaped on the floor, mixed with something black, which turned out to be the charred sticks and ashes from the fire. Someone had apparently flung it about the room and then stamped it out. The crockery lay smashed on the floor and the picture of the Faun's father had been slashed into shreds with a knife.

"This is a pretty good wash-out," said Edmund; "not much good coming here."

"What is this?" said Peter, stooping down. He had just noticed a piece of paper which had been nailed through the carpet to the floor.

"Is there anything written on it?" asked Susan.

"Yes, I think there is," answered Peter, "but I can't read it in this light. Let's get out into the open air."

They all went out in the daylight and crowded round Peter as he read out the following words:

The former occupant of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is under arrest and awaiting his trial on a charge of High Treason against her Imperial Majesty Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, etc., also of comforting her said Majesty's enemies, harboring spies and fraternizing with Humans.

Signed Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police,

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

The children stared at each other.

"I don't know that I'm going to like this place after all," said Susan.

"Who is this Queen, Lu?" said Peter. "Do you know anything about her?"

"She isn't a real queen at all," answered Lucy; "she's a horrible witch, the White Witch. Everyone—even the wood people— hate her. She has made an enchantment over the whole country so that it is always winter here and never Christmas."

"I- I wonder if there's any point in going on," said Susan. "I mean, it doesn't seem particularly safe here and it looks as if it won't be much fun either. And it's getting colder every minute, and we've brought nothing to eat. What about just going home?"

"Oh, but we can't, we can't," said Lucy suddenly; "don't you see? We can't just go home, not after this. It is all on my account that the poor Faun has got into this trouble. He hid me from the Witch and showed me the way back. That's what it means by comforting the Queen's enemies and fraternizing with Humans. We simply must try to rescue him."

"A lot we could do!" said Edmund, "when we haven't even got anything to eat!"

"Shut up— you!" said Peter, who was still very angry with Edmund. "What do you think, Susan?"

"I've got a horrid feeling that Lu is right," said Susan. "I don't want to go a step further and I wish we'd never come. But I think we must try to do something for Mister Whatever-his-name is—I mean the Faun."

"That's what I feel too," said Peter. "I'm worried about having no food with us. I'd vote for going back and getting something from the larder, only there doesn't seem to be any certainty of getting into this country again when once you've got out of it. I think we'll have to go on."

"So do I," said both the girls.

"If only we knew where the poor chap was imprisoned!" said Peter.

Susan glared at him. "Now you're giving me second thoughts, Peter! We should go back."

Peter rolled his eyes at her. "You just said—"

"I know what I said," she cut him off. "But like you said, we don't know where he was taken. It could be far away from here, and it could take us days!" She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "We should really go back."

Lucy looked up at her in disbelief. "But we have to help him!"

Peter sighed. He agreed with Lucy on helping her friend, but Susan was right too. "It's out of our hands now Lu."

"But you think that because you don't get it, do you? I'm the Human!" she exclaimed. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Ella would've helped me...

Peter pursed his lips, eyes shifting between the note and his little sister. "Maybe we should call the police," he suggested.

Susan face-palmed herself. "Have you suddenly gone amnesiac after reading the letter? These are the police!"

Lucy sighed. "This is all my fault," she whimpered.

Peter looked down at her and sighed. "No, it's not—"

She jabbed at the paper. "I'm the Human!" she repeated. "Mister Tumnus has been arrested for not handing me over. But how could they have known?"

Edmund scowled, turning away from the group.

"What kind of Queen does this?" Peter wondered in shock.

Lucy scowled. "She's not a Queen, she's a terrible Witch! And she'll do something horrible, like turn him into stone."

Susan looked at her with wide eyes. "What?"

Lucy nodded. "That's what Mister Tumnus said."

"We can hardly take his word for it," Edmund muttered. They all turned to glare at him and he instantly got defensive and pointed at the warrant. "Well, he's a criminal!"

Lucy glared at him for the first time. "No, he's not."

Before anyone could say anything else, a "Psst" echoed from outside. Susan gaped out the doorway, where a Robin hopped from one branch to the next.

"Did that bird just 'psst' us?" Susan asked, somewhat frightened by the idea of an animal actually talking.

Edmund and Peter were just as shocked, though Lucy, who was taking it in rather well, wondered if birds could talk in Narnia. After all, she did find Narnia through a wardrobe, and she had met a Faun, so talking animals should be possible too, right?

She turned to the Robin and said, "Please, can you tell us where Tumnus the Faun has been taken to?"

As she said this she took a step towards the bird. It at once flew away but only as far as to the next tree. There it perched and looked at them very hard as if it understood all they had been saying. Almost without noticing that they had done so, the four children went a step or two nearer to it. At this, the Robin flew away again to the next tree and once more looked at them very hard.

"Do you know," said Lucy, "I really believe he means us to follow him."

"I've an idea he does," said Susan. "What do you think, Peter?"

Peter sighed. "Well, we might as well try it," he answered.

The Robin appeared to understand the matter thoroughly. It kept going from tree to tree, always a few yards ahead of them, but always so near that they could easily follow it. In this way, it led them on, slightly downhill. Wherever the Robin alighted a little shower of snow would fall off the branch. Presently the clouds parted overhead and the winter sun came out and the snow all around them grew dazzlingly bright.

They had been traveling in this way for about half an hour, with the two girls in front, when Edmund said to Peter, "if you're not still too high and mighty to talk to me, I've something to say which you'd better listen to."

"What is it?" asked Peter.

"Hush! Not so loud," said Edmund; "there's no good frightening the girls. But have you realized what we're doing?"

"What?" said Peter, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"We're following a guide we know nothing about. How do we know which side that bird is on? Why shouldn't it be leading us into a trap?"

"That's a nasty idea. Still— a robin, you know. They're good birds in all the stories I've ever read. I'm sure a robin wouldn't be on the wrong side."

"It if comes to that, which is the right side? How do we know that the Fauns are in the right and the Queen is in the wrong? We don't really know anything about either."

"The Faun saved Lucy."

"He said he did. But how do we know? And there's another thing too. Has anyone the least idea of the way home from here?"

"Great Scott!" said Peter, "I hadn't thought of that."

"And no chance of dinner either," said Edmund.

While the two boys were whispering behind, both the girls suddenly cried "Oh!" and stopped.

"The robin!" cried Lucy, "the robin. It's flown away." And so it had— right out of sight.

"And now what are we to do?" said Edmund, giving Peter a look which was as much as to say "What did I tell you?"

"Sh! Look!" said Susan.

"What?" said Peter.

"There's something moving among the trees over there to the left."

They all stared as hard as they could, and no one felt very comfortable.

"There it goes again," said Susan presently.

"I saw it that time too," said Peter. "It's still there. It's just gone behind that big tree."

"What is it?" asked Lucy, trying very hard not to sound nervous.

"Whatever it is," said Peter, "it's dodging us. It's something that doesn't want to be seen."

"Let's go home," said Susan. And then, though nobody said it out loud, everyone suddenly realized the same fact that Edmund had previously whispered to Peter.

They were lost.

"What's it like?" said Lucy.

"It's— it's a kind of animal," said Susan; and then, "Look! Look! Quick! There it is."

They all saw it this time, a whiskered furry face which had looked out at them from behind a tree. But this time it didn't immediately draw back. Instead, the animal put its paw against its mouth just as humans put their finger on their lips when they are signaling to you to be quiet. Then it disappeared again.

The children, all stood holding their breath.

A moment later the stranger came out from behind the tree, glanced all round as if it were afraid someone was watching, said "Hush", made signs to them to join it in the thicker bit of wood where it was standing, and then once more disappeared.

"I know what it is," said Peter; "it's a beaver. I saw the tail."

"It wants us to go to it," said Susan, "and it is warning us not to make a noise."

"I know," said Peter. "The question is, are we to go to it or not? What do you think, Lu?"

"I think it's a nice beaver," said Lucy. "I think it wants us to follow it."

Edmund gave her an incredulous look. "Of course," he replied sarcastically.

"Shan't we have to risk it?" said Susan. "I mean, it's no good just standing here and I feel I want some dinner."

At this moment the Beaver again popped its head out from behind the tree and beckoned earnestly to them.

Peter looked back at his younger siblings with a warning glance before turning back to the beaver. He took a slow step toward the creature, holding out his hand as if to a dog, and started making a clucking noise. To their surprise, the beaver stood and put his hands on his hips, a clearly offended look on his face.

"I'm not going to smell it, if that's what you want."

Peter's face went red as he stared at the beaver in surprise. "Oh. Sorry."

And then the Beaver beckoned them once more with his head.

"Come on," said Peter, "let's give it a try. All keep close together. We ought to be a match for one beaver if it turns out to be an enemy."

So the children all got close together and walked up to the tree and in behind it, and there, sure enough, they found the Beaver; but it still drew back, saying to them in a hoarse throaty whisper, "Further in, come further in. Right in here. We're not safe in the open!"

Only when it had led them into a dark spot where four trees grew so close together that their boughs met and the brown earth and pine needles could be seen underfoot because no snow had been able to fall there, did it begin to talk to them.

"Are you the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve?" it said.

"We're some of them," said Peter.

"Ssh!" said the Beaver, "not so loud, please. We're not safe even here."

"Why, who are you afraid of?" said Peter. "There's no one here but ourselves."

"There are the trees," said the Beaver. "They're always listening. Most of them are on our side, but there are trees that would betray us to her; you know who I mean," and it nodded its head several times.

"If it comes to talking about sides," said Edmund, "how do we know you're a friend?"

"Not meaning to be rude, Mister Beaver," added Peter, "but you see, we're strangers."

"Quite right, quite right," said the Beaver. "Here is my token." With these words, it held up to them a little white object.

They all looked at it in surprise, till suddenly Lucy said, "Oh, of course. It's my handkerchief— the one I gave to poor Mister—"

"Tumnus. I know. Poor fellow got wind of the arrest just before it happened. I've been keeping an eye out for you ever since."

"Is he alright?" Lucy asked in a small voice.

"Ssh!" The Beaver peered gravely at the branches around them. "Not here. I must bring you where we can have a real talk and also dinner."

No one except Edmund felt any difficulty about trusting the beaver now, and everyone, including Edmund, was very glad to hear the word "dinner". They, therefore, all hurried along behind their new friend who led them at a surprisingly quick pace, and always in the thickest parts of the forest, for over an hour.

Past the frozen river and further into the woods was the young Narnian Princess, Ella, riding on her black, single-horned stallion, the white one galloping freely beside them. Ever since the treaty she'd established between the pair a few weeks back, they'd become rather good companions, spending most of their time together, and they both seemed rather fond of Ella as they practically followed her everywhere.

That chilly evening was one like the many previous ones; she left camp as goal to scout and see if she found any other Narnians in need of help. Since the three of them had well recuperated, she went on these little hiking trips, sometimes riding Silver-Moon (the white unicorn), and sometimes riding Midnight (the black one). Either it was one or the other, the other always tagged along.

"Midnight!" She pulled on the stallion's reins and called out to the other. "Silver! Slow down, both of you! I heard something."

Silver-Moon cantered back toward them and stopped just as Midnight came to a stop as well. Sliding off his back, Ella glanced around warily, her gaze never wavering as she brought out her bow and an arrow.

"Hello and greetings to you, yo— ahh!"

Something dropped behind her then, within less than three seconds, Ella spun around and had an arrow pointing down at a rather comical-looking fox. It was clearly much larger than that of an Earth fox, its body elongated, with relatively short limbs. Its tail, which was longer than half the body length, was long, fluffy, and reached the ground when in a standing position. The Fox's fur coats were a bright, reddish-rusty color, with yellowish tints. It was beautiful, but Ella paid little mind to its beauty as she was only focused on how he could be on the Witch's side.

"Not another move!" she commanded. She had an authoritative voice, he noted as he stumbled onto his feet. He then took a step forward, but she only tightened her grip on her weapon, eyes void of emotion as they looked down at the furry creature. "Alright, then, not another step," she all but growled, taking him by surprise.

"I am not here to harm you," he assured her.

"How do I know that I can trust you and that others do not wait behind you, ready for the moment I yield?"

The Fox sighed. I have just made a fool of myself in front of the future High Queen of Narnia, he thought in embarrassment, looking down at the snowy ground. "I will be honest with you, Your Majesty: many who happen to share a rather unfortunate family resemblance to my kind serve the self-proclaimed Queen of Narnia, but I side with the true King, Aslan."

When he said the word Aslan, he saw a flash cross the girl's eyes.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself," he continued. "My name is Hunta, Captain of Aslan's army."

She relaxed when he said his name and put her bow and arrow away. "What are you doing out here?"

"The Great King asked me to check up on you when he saw you wander off."

"What else?"

The Fox chuckled slightly at her clever eye. "Word has gone out that the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve meant to rule at your side have finally arrived."

Ella's brows shot upward in surprise. No one had told her so yet... perhaps it was because she had left the camp too soon before anyone got the chance. But the Dryads could've told her... or were they keeping silence just in case the word took the wrong turn and ended alerting the Witch?

"My grandfather... he sent you to seek them, hasn't he?"

"He has sent me to see if the word is true, and to gather more troops, Your Majesty."

Ella looked at him for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright, then I won't keep you any longer. It was a pleasure to meet you, Hunta."

The Fox gave her a smile before he bowed. "The pleasure's all mine, Princess." The Fox turned, ready to leave. However, the young princess called him back. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

She was silent for a moment before she replied in a soft tone. "Please... just make sure they're safe."

Hunta nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. Though, before I go... Might I add?" He hesitated, only continuing when she gave him an approving nod. "I suggest you return to the camp; I fear the Witch will be sending out her wolves soon if the word gets to her."

Ella gave him a fond smile as she nodded. "Of course," she said, mounting her black stallion. "Take care of yourself, Hunta."

"And you of yourself, My Lady."

The Pevensies were feeling very tired as they walked for what seemed like miles on end, and were getting very hungry when suddenly the trees began to get thinner in front of them and the ground to fall steeply downhill. A minute later they came out under the open sky and found themselves looking down on a fine sight.

At the end of the line, Edmund slowed down and tugged on Peter's coat. "Will you stop a second? Have you thought about what we're doing? How do we know what side this beaver's on?" he told him as Peter listened impatiently.

"He's friends with the Faun."

Edmund rolled his eyes at his older sibling. "If it comes to that, how do we even know the Faun is in the right?"

Peter sighed in exasperation. "We've talked about this Edmund— he saved Lucy."

"That's what he said, and he was arrested," Edmund reminded him.

Before either could add anything else, the Beaver said, "Here we are then!"

They were standing on the edge of a steep, narrow valley at the bottom of which ran— at least it would have been running if it hadn't been frozen— a fairly large river. Just below them, a dam had been built across this river, and when they saw it everyone suddenly remembered that of course beavers are always making dams and felt quite sure that Mister Beaver had made this one. They also noticed that he now had a sort of modest expression on his, face— the sort of look people have when you are visiting a garden they've made or reading a story they've written.

So it was only common politeness when Susan said, "What a lovely dam!"

And Mister Beaver didn't say "Hush" this time but "Merely a trifle! Merely a trifle! And it isn't really finished!"

Above the dam, there was what ought to have been a deep pool but was now, of course, a level floor of dark green ice. And below the dam, much lower down, was more ice, but instead of being smooth this was all frozen into the foamy and wavy shapes in which the water had been rushing along at the very moment when the frost came. And where the water had been trickling over and spurting through the dam there was now a glittering wall of icicles, as if the side of the dam had been covered all over with flowers and wreaths and festoons of the purest sugar. And out in the middle, and partly on top of the dam was a funny little house shaped rather like an enormous beehive and from a hole in the roof smoke was going up, so that when you saw it (especially if you were hungry) you at once thought of cooking and became hungrier than you were before.

That was what the others chiefly noticed, but Edmund noticed something else. A little lower down the river there was another small river which came down another small valley to join it. And looking up that valley, Edmund could see two small hills, and he was almost sure they were the two hills which the White Witch had pointed out to him when he parted from her at the lamp-post that other day. And then between them, he thought, must be her palace, only a mile off or less. And he thought about Turkish Delight and about being a King and horrible ideas came into his head.

"Here we are," repeated Mister Beaver, a smile on his face, "and it looks as if Missus Beaver is expecting us. I'll lead the way. But be careful and don't slip."

The first thing Lucy noticed as she went in was a burring sound, and the first thing she saw was a kind-looking old she-beaver sitting in the corner with a thread in her mouth working busily at her sewing machine, and it was from it that the sound came. She stopped her work and got up as soon as the children came in.

"So you've come at last!" she said, holding out both her wrinkled old paws. "At last! To think that ever I should live to see this day! The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing and I daresay, Mister Beaver, you'll get us some fish."

"That I will," said Mister Beaver, and he went out of the house, and across the ice of the deep pool to where he had a little hole in the ice which he kept open every day with his hatchet.

When dinner was ready and served, and each person had got his (or her) cup of tea, each person shoved back his (or her) stool so as to be able to lean against the wall and gave a long sigh of contentment.

"And now," said Mister Beaver, pushing away his empty beer mug and pulling his cup of tea towards him, "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, he won't find any tracks."

"Can please tell us what's happened to Mister Tumnus?" Lucy asked.

"Ah, that's bad," said Mister 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 northwards when they were last seen and we all know what that means."

"No, we don't," said Susan.

Mister 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, Mister Beaver?" gasped Lucy.

"Well," said Mister 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—" He paused and shuddered. "turned into stone."

"But, Mister 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 Missus 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, pedlars 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, Mister 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 Mister Beaver, "no good you trying, of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move—"

"Oh, yes! Tell us about Aslan!" said several voices at once; for once again that strange feeling— like the first signs of spring, like good news, had come over them.

"Who is Aslan?" Edmund asked in a rather rude tone, earning himself some glares from his siblings.

Mister Beaver began to laugh, thinking he was only bluffing, only quieting down when he saw no sign of jester in either look of the children's faces. He gaped at them. "You don't know?"

Missus Beaver was just as surprised. "Oh, my, you do come from a bad place."

"He's only the King of the whole wood, Lord of all Narnia!" said Mister Beaver.

"He's been away a long time, but now he's back—"

"They're both back!" Mister Beaver nodded. "Aye, and they're gathering an army at the Stone Table! Now we'll sort out the White Witch once and for all."

Edmund frowned. "Won't she just turn him to stone?"

Beaver threw his head back, laughing, while Edmund's face flushed. "Lord love you, Son of Adam, what a simple thing to say!" answered Mister 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 and his scion come in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When his scion bares thou teeth, winter meets its death,
And when the great lion shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."

He downed his hot drink, then put his mug down with a thump. "But you'll see for yourselves soon enough; we'll set out in the morning."

Peter's brows furrowed in confusion. "For where?"

"The Stone Table. If we're to save Tumnus, we'll need Aslan and the princess to do it."

"Princess?" Susan suddenly asked.

Lucy's eyes lit up instantly in hope. "She's here?! Ella's here?"

Her siblings looked at her with wide eyes, surprised and confused at her sudden outburst.

Peter was the first to recover, however, as the name she said played over in his head. "Ella? As in Eleanor Kirke?"

Lucy nodded. "But she's not a Kirke. Not really; she's Princess Ella! Of Narnia! ... here!"

Missus Beaver suddenly had an overly fond look on her face as she looked at the young girl with wide eyes, leaning forward in anticipation. "You've met the young princess?"

Lucy nodded proudly, a smile illuminating her face at the thought of her friend.

"If it's the same Ella we're talking about..." Peter started slowly.

"We live with her," Susan finished. "Though it's only for the... summer..." she trailed off, cringing slightly as she glanced at the snow outside.

"Do you know any other Ella?" Mister Beaver asked the uncertain-looking Peter. The boy shook his head. "Then it's her all right." He sighed, eyes wide. "She's back. She's survived..."

This time, it was Edmund who spoke. "Survived what?"

"The Witch has been after her since she was very young. Aslan had the princess sent back to the land of Adam and Eve, for her protection, until she became old enough to come back."

"Old enough to fight a war, you mean," Susan suddenly snapped, an incredulous look on her face.

Mister Beaver quickly shook his head. "Not what I said, Your Majesty," he said quickly.

"But that's exactly what you said! You just said Aslan was getting ready to fight a war," Susan countered.

Beaver sighed in defeat and leaned forward, his face lighting up by the candlelight. "He will need every hand he can get."

"Including the hand of a sixteen-year-old girl?!" Susan exclaimed, shooting Peter an alarmed glance.

Peter frowned, his nose flaring slightly. "Look, I know you mean well, but this all sounds rather dangerous," he said as he stood. "I'm sorry, thank you for dinner."

The Beavers simply stared, stunned.

Lucy pouted slightly, her lower lip jutting out a bit and trembling. "But what about Mister Tumnus?"

"Lucy, it's time the four of us were getting home. Susan?" The oldest female Pevensie instantly stood, nodding enthusiastically. "Ed?"

"But what about Ella?" Lucy tried, but her brother paid her no mind this time.

"Ed? It's time to go— Ed!" Peter searched the room, his eyes finally landing on Edmund's empty chair. "I'm going to kill him," he growled.