Trust: The Magician's Nephew

Chapter 4

All the faces of the many people from the street faded away. Liliana let out a sigh of relief. There was total silence except for one voice.

"Oh, oh, is this delirium? Is it the end? I can't bear it. It's not fair. I never meant to be a Magician. It's all a misunderstanding. It's all my godmother's fault; I must protest against this. In my state of health too. A very old Dorsetshire family." It was Uncle Andrew

"Bother!" Digory said. "We didn't want to bring him along. My hat, what a picnic. Are you there, Polly? Liliana?"

"Yes, I'm here." Both girls said at once.

"Don't keep on shoving." Polly continued.

"I'm not," began Digory, but before he could say anything more, their heads came out into the warm, green sunshine of the wood. And as they stepped out of the pool Polly cried out: "Oh look! We've-brought the old horse with us too. And Mr Ketterley. And the Cabby. This is a pretty kettle of fish!"

The Witch went pale and bent down as if she was going to be sick. Uncle Andrew began to shiver. The horse stepped forward and into another pool.

"That's right, old boy," the Cabby said, slapping the horse's neck. "That's better. Take it easy."

Then the horse lent its head down and began to drink.

Polly looked around. Liliana was still holding the Witch's heel, Digory was holding her hand and she still had his other hand. One of the Cabby's hands was on the horse; and Uncle Andrew, still very shaky, had just grabbed on the Cabby's other hand.

"Quick," Polly said, with a look at Digory. "Greens!"

The horse neighed, Uncle Andrew whimpered and Digory said, "That was a bit of luck."

There was a short pause. Then Polly said, "Oughtn't we to be nearly there now?"

"We do seem to be somewhere," Digory said. "At least I'm standing on something solid."

"Why, so am I, now that I come to think of it," Polly said.

"But why's it so dark?" Liliana asked, "Do you think we got into the wrong Pool?"

"Perhaps this is Charn," Digory said. "Only we've got back in the middle of the night."

"This is not Charn," came the Witch's voice. "This is an empty world. This is Nothing."

They all looked around, though they could see nothing. There was nothing there, only blackness. There were no stars. Underneath them they felt something solid. It was flat. They knew it couldn't be grass or wood so they naturally assumed it was earth. The air was cold and dry and there was not a breath of wind.

"My doom has come upon me," the Witch said in a voice of horrible calmness.

"Oh don't say that," babbled Uncle Andrew. "My dear young lady, pray don't say such things. It can't be as bad as that. Ah — Cabman — my good man — you don't happen to have a flask about you? A drop of spirits is just what I need."

"Now then, now then," came the Cabby's voice, a good firm, hardy voice. "Keep cool everyone, that's what I say. No bones broken, anyone? Good. Well there's something to be thankful for straight away, and more than anyone could expect after falling all that way. Now, if we've fallen down some diggings — as it might be for a new station on the Underground — someone will come and get us out presently, see! And if we're dead — which I don't deny it might be — well, you got to – remember that worse things 'appen at sea and a chap's got to die sometime. And there ain't nothing to be afraid of if a chap's led a decent life. And if you ask me, I think the best thing we could do to pass the time would be sing a 'ymn."