Trust: The Magician's Nephew

Chapter 2

Digory and Polly were facing one another across the pillar where the bell hung, still trembling, though it no longer gave out any note. Liliana stood looking at the figures.

Suddenly they heard a soft noise from the end of the room which was still undamaged. Digory and Polly turned quick as lightning to see what it was.

One of the robed figures, the furthest-off one of all, the woman whom Digory thought so beautiful, was rising from its chair.

As the woman rose Liliana ducked behind the pillar not wanting to be seen by the woman.

When she stood up they realised that she was even taller than they had thought. And you could see at once, not only from her crown and robes, but from the flash of her eyes and the curve of her lips, that she was a great queen.

She looked round the room and saw the damage and saw the children, but you could not guess from her face what she thought of either or whether she was surprised. She came forward with long, swift strides.

"Who has awaked me?" she asked. "Who has broken the spell?"

"I think it must have been me," Digory said.

"You!" said the Queen, laying her hand on his shoulder — a white, beautiful hand, but Digory could feel that it was strong as steel pincers. "You? But you are only a child, a common child. Anyone can see at a glance that you have no drop of royal or noble blood in your veins. How did such as you dare to enter this house?"

"We've come from another world, by Magic," Polly said. She thought it was high time the Queen took some notice of her as well as of Digory.

"Is this true?" the Queen said, still looking at Digory and not giving Polly even a glance.

"Yes, it is," he said.

The Queen put her other hand under his chin and forced it up so that she could see his face better. Digory tried to stare back but he soon had to let his eyes drop. There was something about hers that overpowered him.

After she had studied him for well over a minute, she let go of his chin and said: "You are no magician. The mark of it is not on you. You must be only the servant of a magician. It is on another's Magic that you have travelled here."

"It was my Uncle Andrew," Digory said.

At the moment, not in the room itself but from somewhere very close, there came, first a rumbling, then a creaking, and then a roar of falling masonry, and the floor shook.

"There is great peril here," the Queen said. "The whole palace is breaking up. If we are not out of it in a few minutes we shall be buried under the ruin." She spoke as calmly as if she had been merely mentioning the time of day.

"Come," she added, and held out a hand to each of the children.

Polly, who was disliking the Queen and feeling rather sulky, would not have let her hand be taken if she could have helped it.

But though the Queen spoke so calmly, her movements were as quick as thought. Before Polly knew what was happening her left hand had been caught in a hand so much larger and stronger than her own that she could do nothing about it.

She quickly grabbed a hold of Liliana's hand before the Queen dragged her and Digory away.

"This is a terrible woman," Polly whispered to Liliana. "She's strong enough to break my arm with one twist. And now that she's got my left hand I can't get at my yellow ring. If I tried to stretch across and get my right hand into my left pocket I mightn't be able to reach it, before she asked me what I was doing. Whatever happens we mustn't let her know about the rings. I do hope Digory has the sense to keep his mouth shut. I wish we could get a word with him alone."