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“LOOKatwhat?”saidEdmund.
“Lookatthedeviceonthegold,”saidCaspian.
“Alittlehammerwithadiamondaboveitlikeastar,”saidDrinian.“Why,I’veseenthatbefore.”
“Seenit!”saidCaspian.“Why,ofcourseyouhave.ItisthesignofagreatNarnianhouse.ThisistheLordOctesian’sarm-ring.”
“Villain,”saidReepicheeptothedragon,“haveyoudevouredaNarnianlord?”Butthedragonshookhisheadviolently.
“Orperhaps,”saidLucy,“thisistheLordOctesian,turnedintoadragon—underanenchantment,youknow.”
“Itneedn’tbeeither,”saidEdmund.“Alldragonscollectgold.ButIthinkit’sasafeguessthatOctesiangotnofurtherthanthisisland.”
“AreyoutheLordOctesian?”saidLucytothedragon,andthen,whenitsadlyshookitshead,“Areyousomeoneenchanted—someonehuman,Imean?”
Itnoddedviolently.
Andthensomeonesaid—peopledisputedafterwardswhetherLucyorEdmundsaiditfirst—“You’renot—notEustacebyanychance?”
AndEustacenoddedhisterribledragonheadandthumpedhistailintheseaandeveryoneskippedback(someofthesailorswithejaculationsIwillnotputdowninwriting)toavoidtheenormousandboilingtearswhichflowedfromhiseyes.
Lucytriedhardtoconsolehimandevenscreweduphercouragetokissthescalyface,andnearlyeveryonesaid“Hardluck”andseveralassuredEustacethattheywouldallstandbyhimandmanysaidtherewassuretobesomewayofdisenchantinghimandthey’dhavehimasrightasraininadayortwo.Andofcoursetheywereallveryanxioustohearhisstory,buthecouldn’tspeak.Morethanonceinthedaysthatfollowedheattemptedtowriteitforthemonthesand.Butthisneversucceeded.InthefirstplaceEustace(neverhavingreadtherightbooks)hadnoideahowtotellastorystraight.Andforanotherthing,themusclesandnervesofthedragon-clawsthathehadtousehadneverlearnedtowriteandwerenotbuiltforwritinganyway.Asaresulthenevergotnearlytotheendbeforethetidecameinandwashedawayallthewritingexceptthebitshehadalreadytroddenonoraccidentallyswishedoutwithhistail.Andallthatanyonehadseenwouldbesomethinglikethis—thedotsareforthebitshehadsmudgedout—
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Itwas,however,cleartoeveryonethatEustace’scharacterhadbeenratherimprovedbybecomingadragon.Hewasanxioustohelp.Heflewoverthewholeislandandfoundthatitwasallmountainousandinhabitedonlybywildgoatsanddrovesofwildswine.Ofthesehebroughtbackmanycarcassesasprovisionsfortheship.Hewasaveryhumanekillertoo,forhecoulddispatchabeastwithoneblowofhistailsothatitdidn’tknow(andpresumablystilldoesn’tknow)ithadbeenkilled.Heateafewhimself,ofcourse,butalwaysalone,fornowthathewasadragonhelikedhisfoodrawbuthecouldneverbeartoletothersseehimathismessymeals.Andoneday,flyingslowlyandwearilybutingreattriumph,heborebacktocampagreattallpinetreewhichhehadtornupbytherootsinadistantvalleyandwhichcouldbemadeintoacapitalmast.Andintheeveningifitturnedchilly,asitsometimesdidaftertheheavyrains,hewasacomforttoeveryone,forthewholepartywouldcomeandsitwiththeirbacksagainsthishotsidesandgetwellwarmedanddried;andonepuffofhisfierybreathwouldlightthemostobstinatefire.Sometimeshewouldtakeaselectpartyforaflyonhisback,sothattheycouldseewheelingbelowthemthegreenslopes,therockyheights,thenarrowpit-likevalleysandfaroutovertheseatotheeastwardaspotofdarkerblueonthebluehorizonwhichmightbeland.
Thepleasure(quitenewtohim)ofbeinglikedand,stillmore,oflikingotherpeople,waswhatkeptEustacefromdespair.Foritwasverydrearybeingadragon.Heshudderedwheneverhecaughtsightofhisownreflectionasheflewoveramountainlake.Hehatedthehugebat—likewings,thesaw-edgedridgeonhisback,andthecruel,curvedclaws.Hewasalmostafraidtobealonewithhimselfandyethewasashamedtobewiththeothers.Ontheeveningswhenhewasnotbeingusedasahot-waterbottlehewouldslinkawayfromthecampandliecurleduplikeasnakebetweenthewoodandthewater.Onsuchoccasions,greatlytohissurprise,Reepicheepwashismostconstantcomforter.ThenobleMousewouldcreepawayfromthemerrycircleatthecampfireandsitdownbythedragon’shead,welltothewindwardtobeoutofthewayofhissmokybreath.TherehewouldexplainthatwhathadhappenedtoEustacewasastrikingillustrationoftheturnofFortune’swheel,andthatifhehadEustaceathisownhouseinNarnia(itwasreallyaholenotahouseandthedragon’shead,letalonehisbody,wouldnothavefittedin)hecouldshowhimmorethanahundredexamplesofemperors,kings,dukes,knights,poets,lovers,astronomers,philosophers,andmagicians,whohadfallenfromprosperityintothemostdistressingcircumstances,andofwhommanyhadrecoveredandlivedhappilyeverafterwards.Itdidnot,perhaps,seemsoverycomfortingatthetime,butitwaskindlymeantandEustaceneverforgotit.
Butofcoursewhathungovereveryonelikeacloudwastheproblemofwhattodowiththeirdragonwhentheywerereadytosail.Theytriednottotalkofitwhenhewasthere,buthecouldn’thelpoverhearingthingslike,“Wouldhefitallalongonesideofthedeck?Andwe’dhavetoshiftallthestorestotheothersidedownbelowsoastobalance,”or,“Wouldtowinghimbeanygood?”or“Wouldhebeabletokeepupbyflying?”and(mostoftenofall),“Buthowarewetofeedhim?”AndpoorEustacerealizedmoreandmorethatsincethefirstdayhecameonboardhehadbeenanunmitigatednuisanceandthathewasnowagreaternuisancestill.Andthisateintohismind,justasthatbraceletateintohisforeleg.Heknewthatitonlymadeitworsetotearatitwithhisgreatteeth,buthecouldn’thelptearingnowandthen,especiallyonhotnights.
AboutsixdaysaftertheyhadlandedonDragonIsland,Edmundhappenedtowakeupveryearlyonemorning.Itwasjustgettinggreysothatyoucouldseethetree-trunksiftheywerebetweenyouandthebaybutnotintheotherdirection.Ashewokehethoughtheheardsomethingmoving,soheraisedhimselfononeelbowandlookedabouthim:andpresentlyhethoughthesawadarkfiguremovingontheseawardsideofthewood.Theideathatatonceoccurredtohismindwas,“Arewesosuretherearenonativesonthisislandafterall?”ThenhethoughtitwasCaspian—itwasabouttherightsize—butheknewthatCaspianhadbeensleepingnexttohimandcouldseethathehadn’tmoved.Edmundmadesurethathisswordwasinitsplaceandthenrosetoinvestigate.
Hecamedownsoftlytotheedgeofthewoodandthedarkfigurewasstillthere.HesawnowthatitwastoosmallforCaspianandtoobigforLucy.Itdidnotrunaway.Edmunddrewhisswordandwasabouttochallengethestrangerwhenthestranger
saidinalowvoice,“Isthatyou,Edmund?”
“Yes.Whoareyou?”saidhe.
“Don’tyouknowme?”saidtheother.“It’sme—Eustace.”
“Byjove,”saidEdmund,“soitis.Mydearchap—”
“Hush,”saidEustaceandlurchedasifheweregoingtofall.
“Hello!”saidEdmund,steadyinghim.“What’sup?Areyouill?”
EustacewassilentforsolongthatEdmundthoughthewasfainting;butatlasthesaid,“It’sbeenghastly.Youdon’tknow...butit’sallrightnow.Couldwegoandtalksomewhere?Idon’twanttomeettheothersjustyet.”
“Yes,rather,anywhereyoulike,”saidEdmund.“Wecangoandsitontherocksoverthere.Isay,Iamgladtoseeyou—er—lookingyourselfagain.Youmusthavehadaprettybeastlytime.”
Theywenttotherocksandsatdownlookingoutacrossthebaywhiletheskygotpalerandpalerandthestarsdisappearedexceptforoneverybrightonelowdownandnearthehorizon.
“Iwon’ttellyouhowIbecamea—adragontillIcantelltheothersandgetitallover,”saidEustace.“Bytheway,Ididn’tevenknowitwasadragontillIheardyouallusingthewordwhenIturnedupheretheothermorning.IwanttotellyouhowIstoppedbeingone.”
“Fireahead,”saidEdmund.
“Well,lastnightIwasmoremiserablethanever.Andthatbeastlyarm-ringwashurtinglikeanything—”
“Isthatallrightnow?”
Eustacelaughed—adifferentlaughfromanyEdmundhadheardhimgivebefore—andslippedthebraceleteasilyoffhisarm.“Thereitis,”hesaid,“andanyonewholikescanhaveitasfarasI’mconcerned.Well,asIsay,Iwaslyingawakeandwonderingwhatonearthwouldbecomeofme.Andthen—but,mindyou,itmayhavebeenalladream.Idon’tknow.”
“Goon,”saidEdmund,withconsiderablepatience.
“Well,anyway,IlookedupandsawtheverylastthingIexpected:ahugelioncomingslowlytowardsme.Andonequeerthingwasthattherewasnomoonlastnight,buttherewasmoonlightwherethelionwas.Soitcamenearerandnearer.Iwasterriblyafraidofit.Youmaythinkthat,beingadragon,Icouldhaveknockedanylionouteasilyenough.Butitwasn’tthatkindoffear.Iwasn’tafraidofiteatingme,Iwasjustafraidofit-ifyoucanunderstand.Well,itcamecloseuptomeandlookedstraightintomyeyes.AndIshutmyeyestight.Butthatwasn’tanygoodbecauseittoldmetofollowit.”
“Youmeanitspoke?”
“Idon’tknow.Nowthatyoumentionit,Idon’tthinkitdid.Butittoldmeallthesame.AndIknewI’dhavetodowhatittoldme,soIgotupandfollowedit.Anditledmealongwayintothemountains.Andtherewasalwaysthismoonlightoverandroundthelionwhereverwewent.SoatlastwecametothetopofamountainI’dneverseenbeforeandonthetopofthismountaintherewasagarden—treesandfruitandeverything.Inthemiddleofittherewasawell.
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