The Last Temptation of Susan

Chapter Three: Welcome to the Jungle

Susan knew right away that she was back in the southern land of Calormen. The heat in the jungle hit her like a wave, and before she walked ten paces her pale white skin was covered with a fine sheen of perspiration.

There was no sign of her former love Prince Rabadash – indeed there were no humans of any kind. Perhaps it was just as well, for the Queen of Narnia could hardly appear before the royal court in Tashbaan wearing only a bed gown. And if she ran into Rabadash alone dressed like this . . .

Suddenly a tiny shape darted across the narrow jungle trail. It was about the size and shape of a chicken, but Susan had never seen any chicken, either in England or in Narnia, that wore greenish-brown scales and a blue crest on its head.

"I wish you were a robin," she said, trying to force a smile. "Or a talking beaver." A dozen more dashed by underfoot, nearly tripping her. Susan was beginning to feel nervous. What kind of world was this? She was all alone, scarcely half-dressed, and surrounded by small lizards in a big hurry to get somewhere.

BOOM! That was a footstep. BOOM! It was coming this way. BOOM! Susan put the whole picture together, and began to run as fast as she could in a silk bed gown. Her little friends had obviously been fleeing something very big and very bad!

RAAWWRRRR!!!! The earth-shattering cry shook the treetops, sending flocks of colorful birds in every direction. Except for the great lion's call, Susan had never heard a more overpowering roar. She glanced over her bare shoulder, half-dreading and half-hoping to see Aslan himself.

Instead she saw a nightmare, standing over two stories tall.

RAAWWRRRR!!!! The great reptile caught sight of her the moment she turned to look at him. Taller than a Narnian giant, it had tiny little front legs and huge back legs that were perfect for crashing loudly through the undergrowth. And then there were the teeth, razor sharp fangs in a mouth that could swallow her whole. That was plainly the idea, for the hungry reptile let out another roar and changed direction, plainly deciding to make Susan its next meal.

While never quite as brave as her brothers and her sister, Susan still had plenty of determination – and two long legs of her own. She ran as fast as she could, fighting the tangled undergrowth and the flimsy bed gown that hampered her. But it was obvious that the beast was gaining at every step. Was it a dinosaur from her world's vanished past? Or was it a monster found only in the magical world of Narnia? Were dinosaurs in this world any more real than mythical beasts?

Susan had never been very good at schoolwork, and at the moment she cared even less about scientific theories. Her main concern was to avoid becoming dinosaur dinner. She couldn't slow down, but if she kept running at top speed she would exhaust herself and be even easier prey. She was tired, panting already. And then just as her lungs and her heart were ready to give out she found herself flying!

She hadn't turned into a bird, of course. What had happened was that Susan had been running very fast without watching where she was going, and her steps led her right over a cliff. But instead of plummeting to her death on jagged rocks she fell into a deep, fast-moving river with a noisy splash.

Susan was a very good swimmer. Aside from archery it was the one strenuous outdoor activity she really enjoyed. She knew enough not to fight against the current, however, especially in her present state. She let the cool, swift water carry her along, fervently hoping it would take her well away from the teeth and jaws of that fearsome creature. Before long however, the current was pushing her in towards shore, and she banged herself pretty badly against the slimy rocks.

By the time she hauled herself out of the water, Susan was completely exhausted, soaking wet and covered with cuts and bruises. She didn't care to enter the jungle again, so she followed the stony river bank for a mile or more, picking her way on bare feet. The sharp rocks cut her feet, adding to the ache of fresh bruises and the sting of her other wounds. And there were black biting flies that buzzed around her head. Susan swatted at them as she stumbled along. She felt like crying, but that was something a Queen of Narnia never did.

At last she came to a wide green lawn, obviously cultivated by humans and lovingly well-maintained. There was a big white house with a red roof in the distance, and Susan knew that she would have to go there to get help. But instead of walking any further the Queen of Narnia simply collapsed in the soft green grass. It was a long time later when someone nudged her with his toe, then shook her very gently.

"Susan? Is it truly you, O Queen of My Desire?" The male voice was warm and rich, reassuring and very familiar.

Susan tried to speak. Instead she moaned, and coughed up a little water, feeling too tired even to lift her head.

"Is that the northern queen? She looks like a drowned rat," said a girl's nasty voice.

"Rabadash?" Susan looked up at last, amazed to see the proud, handsome prince looking down at her. But it wasn't the deep yearning in his intense dark eyes that shocked her.

Prince Rabadash of Calormen was wearing fresh tennis whites and a brand new pair of sneakers.