Thatday,whenitcametotheafternoonandtherewasstillnosignofabreakintheweather,theydecidedtoplayhide-and-seek.Susanwas“It’andassoonastheothersscatteredtohide,Lucywenttotheroomwherethewardrobewas.Shedidnotmeantohideinthewardrobe,becausesheknewthatwouldonlysettheotherstalkingagainaboutthewholewretchedbusiness.Butshedidwanttohaveonemorelookinsideit;forbythistimeshewasbeginningtowonderherselfwhetherNarniaandtheFaunhadnotbeenadream.Thehousewassolargeandcomplicatedandfullofhiding-placesthatshethoughtshewouldhavetimetohaveonelookintothewardrobeandthenhidesomewhereelse.Butassoonasshereacheditsheheardstepsinthepassageoutside,andthentherewasnothingforitbuttojumpintothewardrobeandholdthedoorclosedbehindher.Shedidnotshutitproperlybecausesheknewthatitisverysillytoshutoneselfintoawardrobe,evenifitisnotamagicone.
NowthestepsshehadheardwerethoseofEdmund;andhecameintotheroomjustintimetoseeLucyvanishingintothewardrobe.Heatoncedecidedtogetintoithimself-notbecausehethoughtitaparticularlygoodplacetohidebutbecausehewantedtogoonteasingheraboutherimaginarycountry.Heopenedthedoor.Therewerethecoatshangingupasusual,andasmellofmothballs,anddarknessandsilence,andnosignofLucy.“ShethinksI’mSusancometocatchher,”saidEdmundtohimself,“andsoshe’skeepingveryquietinattheback.”Hejumpedinandshutthedoor,forgettingwhataveryfoolishthingthisistodo.ThenhebeganfeelingaboutforLucyinthedark.Hehadexpectedtofindherinafewsecondsandwasverysurprisedwhenhedidnot.Hedecidedtoopenthedooragainandletinsomelight.Buthecouldnotfindthedooreither.Hedidn’tlikethisatallandbegangropingwildlyineverydirection;heevenshoutedout,“Lucy!Lu!Whereareyou?Iknowyou’rehere.”
TherewasnoanswerandEdmundnoticedthathisownvoicehadacurioussound-notthesoundyouexpectinacupboard,butakindofopen-airsound.Healsonoticedthathewasunexpectedlycold;andthenhesawalight.
“Thankgoodness,”saidEdmund,“thedoormusthaveswungopenofitsownaccord.”HeforgotallaboutLucyandwenttowardsthelight,whichhethoughtwastheopendoorofthewardrobe.Butinsteadoffindinghimselfsteppingoutintothespareroomhefoundhimselfsteppingoutfromtheshadowofsomethickdarkfirtreesintoanopenplaceinthemiddleofawood.
Therewascrisp,drysnowunderhisfeetandmoresnowlyingonthebranchesofthetrees.Overheadtherewaspalebluesky,thesortofskyoneseesonafinewinterdayinthemorning.Straightaheadofhimhesawbetweenthetree-trunksthesun,justrising,veryredandclear.Everythingwasperfectlystill,asifheweretheonlylivingcreatureinthatcountry.Therewasnotevenarobinorasquirrelamongthetrees,andthewoodstretchedasfarashecouldseeineverydirection.Heshivered.
HenowrememberedthathehadbeenlookingforLucy;andalsohowunpleasanthehadbeentoherabouther“imaginarycountry”whichnowturnedoutnottohavebeenimaginaryatall.Hethoughtthatshemustbesomewherequitecloseandsoheshouted,“Lucy!Lucy!I’mheretoo-Edmund.”
Therewasnoanswer.
“She’sangryaboutallthethingsI’vebeensayinglately,”thoughtEdmund.Andthoughhedidnotliketoadmitthathehadbeenwrong,healsodidnotmuchlikebeingaloneinthisstrange,cold,quietplace;soheshoutedagain.
“Isay,Lu!I’msorryIdidn’tbelieveyou.Iseenowyouwererightallalong.Docomeout.MakeitPax.”
Stilltherewasnoanswer.
“Justlikeagirl,”saidEdmundtohimself,“sulkingsomewhere,andwon’tacceptanapology.”Helookedroundhimagainanddecidedhedidnotmuchlikethisplace,andhadalmostmadeuphismindtogohome,whenheheard,veryfaroffinthewood,asoundofbells.Helistenedandthesoundcamenearerandnearerandatlasttheresweptintosightasledgedrawnbytworeindeer.
ThereindeerwereaboutthesizeofShetlandponiesandtheirhairwassowhitethateventhesnowhardlylookedwhitecomparedwiththem;theirbranchinghornsweregildedandshonelikesomethingonfirewhenthesunrisecaughtthem.Theirharnesswasofscarletleatherandcoveredwithbells.Onthesledge,drivingthereindeer,satafatdwarfwhowouldhavebeenaboutthreefeethighifhehadbeenstanding.Hewasdressedinpolarbear’sfurandonhisheadheworearedhoodwithalonggoldtasselhangingdownfromitspoint;hishugebeardcoveredhiskneesandservedhiminsteadofarug.Butbehindhim,onamuchhigherseatinthemiddleofthesledgesataverydifferentperson-agreatlady,tallerthananywomanthatEdmundhadeverseen.Shealsowascoveredinwhitefuruptoherthroatandheldalongstraightgoldenwandinherrighthandandworeagoldencrownonherhead.Herfacewaswhite-notmerelypale,butwhitelikesnoworpaperoricing-sugar,exceptforherveryredmouth.Itwasabeautifulfaceinotherrespects,butproudandcoldandstern.
ThesledgewasafinesightasitcamesweepingtowardsEdmundwiththebellsjinglingandthedwarfcrackinghiswhipandthesnowflyinguponeachsideofit.
“Stop!”saidtheLady,andthedwarfpulledthereindeerupsosharpthattheyalmostsatdown.Thentheyrecoveredthemselvesandstoodchampingtheirbitsandblowing.Inthefrostyairthebreathcomingoutoftheirnostrilslookedlikesmoke.
“Andwhat,pray,areyou?”saidtheLady,lookinghardatEdmund.
“I’m-I’m-myname’sEdmund,”saidEdmundratherawkwardly.Hedidnotlikethewayshelookedathim.
TheLadyfrowned,“IsthathowyouaddressaQueen?”sheasked,lookingsternerthanever.
“Ibegyourpardon,yourMajesty,Ididn’tknow,”saidEdmund.
“NotknowtheQueenofNarnia?”criedshe.“Ha!Youshallknowusbetterhereafter.ButIrepeat-whatareyou?”
“Please,yourMajesty,”saidEdmund,“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.I’matschool-atleastIwasit’stheholidaysnow.”
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