CHAPTER TEN THE MAGICIAN’S BOOK
The invisible people feasted their guests royally. It was very funny to see the plates and dishes coming to the table and not to see anyone carrying them. It would have been funny even if they had moved along level with the floor, as you would expect things to do in invisible hands. But they didn’t. They progressed up the long dining-hall in a series of bounds or jumps. At the highest point of each jump a dish would be about fifteen feet up in the air; then it would come down and stop quite suddenly about three feet from the floor. When the dish contained anything like soup or stew the result was rather disastrous.
“I’m beginning to feel very inquisitive about these people,” whispered Eustace to Edmund. “Do you think they’re human at all? More like huge grasshoppers or giant frogs, I should say.”
“It does look like it,” said Edmund. “But don’t put the idea of the grasshoppers into Lucy’s head. She’s not too keen on insects; especially big ones.”
The meal would have been pleasanter if it had not been so exceedingly messy, and also if the conversation had not consisted entirely of agreements. The invisible people agreed about everything. Indeed most of their remarks were the sort it would not be easy to disagree with：“What I always say is, when a chap’s hungry, he likes some victuals,” or “Getting dark now; always does at night,” or even “Ah, you’ve come over the water. Powerful wet stuff, ain’t it?” And Lucy could not help looking at the dark yawning entrance to the foot of the staircase—she could see it from where she sat—and wondering what she would find when she went up those stairs next morning. But it was a good meal otherwise, with mushroom soup and boiled chickens and hot boiled ham and gooseberries, redcurrants, curds, cream, milk, and mead. The others liked the mead but Eustace was sorry afterward that he had drunk any.
When Lucy woke up next morning it was like waking up on the day of an examination or a day when you are going to the dentist. It was a lovely morning with bees buzzing in and out of her open window and the lawn outside looking very like somewhere in England. She got up and dressed and tried to talk and eat ordinarily at breakfast. Then, after being instructed by the Chief Voice about what she was to do upstairs, she bid good-bye to the others, said nothing, walked to the bottom of the stairs, and began going up them without once looking back.
It was quite light, that was one good thing. There was, indeed, a window straight ahead of her at the top of the first flight. As long as she was on that flight she could hear the tick-tock-tick-tock of a grandfather clock in the hall below. Then she came to the landing and had to turn to her left up the next flight; after that she couldn’t hear the clock any more.
Now she had come to the top of the stairs. Lucy looked and saw a long, wide passage with a large window at the far end. Apparently the passage ran the whole length of the house. It was carved and paneled, and carpeted and very many doors opened off it on each side. She stood still and couldn’t hear the squeak of a mouse, or the buzzing of a fly, or the swaying of a curtain, or anything—except the beating of her own heart.
“The last doorway on the left,” she said to herself. It did seem a bit hard that it should be the last. To reach it she would have to walk past room after room. And in any room there might be the magician—asleep, or awake, or invisible, or even dead. But it wouldn’t do to think about that. She set out on her journey. The carpet was so thick that her feet made no noise.
“There’s nothing whatever to be afraid of yet,” Lucy told herself. And certainly it was a quiet, sunlit passage; perhaps a bit too quiet. It would have been nicer if there had not been strange signs painted in scarlet on the doors—twisty, complicated things which obviously had a meaning and it mightn’t be a very nice meaning either. It would have been nicer still if there weren’t those masks hanging on the wall. Not that they were exactly ugly—or not so very ugly—but the empty eye-holes did look queer, and if you let yourself you would soon start imagining that the masks were doing things as soon as your back was turned to them.
After about the sixth door she got her first real fright. For one second she felt almost certain that a wicked little bearded face had popped out of the wall and made a grimace at her. She forced herself to stop and look at it. And it was not a face at all. It was a little mirror just the size and shape of her own face, with hair on the top of it and a beard hanging down from it, so that when you looked in the mirror your own face fitted into the hair and beard and it looked as if they belonged to you. “I just caught my own reflection with the tail of my eye as I went past,” said Lucy to herself. “That was all it was. It’s quite harmless.” But she didn’t like the look of her own face with that hair and beard, and went on.（I don’t know what the Bearded Glass was for because I am not a magician.）
Before she reached the last door on the left, Lucy was beginning to wonder whether the corridor had grown longer since she began her journey and whether this was part of the magic of the house. But she got to it at last. And the door was open.
It was a large room with three big windows and it was lined from floor to ceiling with books; more books than Lucy had ever seen before, tiny little books, fat and dumpy books, and books bigger than any church Bible you have ever seen, all bound in leather and smelling old and learned and magical. But she knew from her instructions that she need not bother about any of these. For the Book, the Magic Book, was lying on a reading-desk in the very middle of the room. She saw she would have to read it standing（and anyway there were no chairs）and also that she would have to stand with her back to the door while she read it. So at once she turned to shut the door.
It wouldn’t shut.
Some people may disagree with Lucy about this, but I think she was quite right. She said she wouldn’t have minded if she could have shut the door, but that it was unpleasant to have to stand in a place like that with an open doorway right behind your back. I should have felt just the same. But there was nothing else to be done.
One thing that worried her a good deal was the size of the Book. The Chief Voice had not been able to give her any idea whereabouts in the Book the spell for making things visible came. He even seemed rather surprised at her asking. He expected her to begin at the beginning and go on till she came to it; obviously he had never thought that there was any other way of finding a place in a book. “But it might take me days and weeks！” said Lucy, looking at the huge volume, “and I feel already as if I’d been in this place for hours.”
She went up to the desk and laid her hand on the book; her fingers tingled when she touched it as if it were full of electricity. She tried to open it but couldn’t at first; this, however, was only because it was fastened by two leaden clasps, and when she had undone these it opened easily enough. And what a book it was！
It was written, not printed; written in a clear, even hand, with thick downstrokes and thin upstrokes, very large, easier than print, and so beautiful that Lucy stared at it for a whole minute and forgot about reading it. The paper was crisp and smooth and a nice smell came from it; and in the margins, and round the big colored capital letters at the beginning of each spell, there were pictures.
There was no title page or title; the spells began straight away, and at first there was nothing very important in them. They were cures for warts（by washing your hands in moonlight in a silver basin）and toothache and cramp, and a spell for taking a swarm of bees. The picture of the man with toothache was so lifelike that it would have set your own teeth aching if you looked at it too long, and the golden bees which were dotted all round the fourth spell looked for a moment as if they were really flying.
Lucy could hardly tear herself away from that first page, but when she turned over, the next was just as interesting. “But I must get on,” she told herself. And on she went for about thirty pages which, if she could have remembered them, would have taught her how to find buried treasure, how to remember things forgotten, how to forget things you wanted to forget, how to tell whether anyone was speaking the truth, how to call up（or prevent）wind, fog, snow, sleet or rain, how to produce enchanted sleeps and how to give a man an ass’s head（as they did to poor Bottom）. And the longer she read the more wonderful and more real the pictures became.
Then she came to a page which was such a blaze of pictures that one hardly noticed the writing. Hardly—but she did notice the first words. They were, An infallible spell to make beautiful her that uttereth it beyond the lot of mortals. Lucy peered at the pictures with her face close to the page, and though they had seemed crowded and muddlesome before, she found she could now see them quite clearly. The first was a picture of a girl standing at a reading-desk reading in a huge book. And the girl was dressed exactly like Lucy. In the next picture Lucy（for the girl in the picture was Lucy herself）was standing up with her mouth open and a rather terrible expression on her face, chanting or reciting something. In the third picture the beauty beyond the lot of mortals had come to her. It was strange, considering how small the pictures had looked at first, that the Lucy in the picture now seemed quite as big as the real Lucy; and they looked into each other’s eyes and the real Lucy looked away after a few minutes because she was dazzled by the beauty of the other Lucy; though she could still see a sort of likeness to herself in that beautiful face. And now the pictures came crowding on her thick and fast. She saw herself throned on high at a great tournament in Calormen and all the Kings of the world fought because of her beauty. After that it turned from tournaments to real wars, and all Narnia and Archenland, Telmar and Calormen, Galma and Terebinthia, were laid waste with the fury of the kings and dukes and great lords who fought for her favor. Then it changed and Lucy, still beautiful beyond the lot of mortals, was back in England. And Susan（who had always been the beauty of the family）came home from America. The Susan in the picture looked exactly like the real Susan only plainer and with a nasty expression. And Susan was jealous of the dazzling beauty of Lucy, but that didn’t matter a bit because no one cared anything about Susan now.
“I will say the spell,” said Lucy. “I don’t care. I will.” She said I don’t care because she had a strong feeling that she mustn’t.
But when she looked back at the opening words of the spell, there in the middle of the writing, where she felt quite sure there had been no picture before, she found the great face of a lion, of The Lion, Aslan himself, staring into hers. It was painted such a bright gold that it seemed to be coming toward her out of the page; and indeed she never was quite sure afterward that it hadn’t really moved a little. At any rate she knew the expression on his face quite well. He was growling and you could see most of his teeth. She became horribly afraid and turned over the page at once.
A little later she came to a spell which would let you know what your friends thought about you. Now Lucy had wanted very badly to try the other spell, the one that made you beautiful beyond the lot of mortals. So she felt that to make up for not having said it, she really would say this one. And all in a hurry, for fear her mind would change, she said the words（nothing will induce me to tell you what they were）. Then she waited for something to happen.
As nothing happened she began looking at the pictures. And all at once she saw the very last thing she expected—a picture of a third-class carriage in a train, with two schoolgirls sitting in it. She knew them at once. They were Marjorie Preston and Anne Featherstone. Only now it was much more than a picture. It was alive. She could see the telegraph posts flicking past outside the window. Then gradually（like when the radio is “coming on”）she could hear what they were saying.
“Shall I see anything of you this term?” said Anne, “or are you still going to be all taken up with Lucy Pevensie.”
“Don’t know what you mean by taken up,” said Marjorie.
“Oh yes, you do,” said Anne. “You were crazy about her last term.”
“No, I wasn’t,” said Marjorie. “I’ve got more sense than that. Not a bad little kid in her way. But I was getting pretty tired of her before the end of term.”
“Well, you jolly well won’t have the chance any other term！”shouted Lucy. “Two-faced little beast.” But the sound of her own voice at once reminded her that she was talking to a picture and that the real Marjorie was far away in another world.
“Well,” said Lucy to herself, “I did think better of her than that. And I did all sorts of things for her last term, and I stuck to her when not many other girls would. And she knows it too. And to Anne Featherstone of all people！I wonder are all my friends the same? There are lots of other pictures. No. I won’t look at any more. I won’t, I won’t”—and with a great effort she turned over the page, but not before a large, angry tear had splashed on it.
On the next page she came to a spell “for the refreshment of the spirit.” The pictures were fewer here but very beautiful. And what Lucy found herself reading was more like a story than a spell. It went on for three pages and before she had read to the bottom of the page she had forgotten that she was reading at all. She was living in the story as if it were real, and all the pictures were real too. When she had got to the third page and come to the end, she said, “That is the loveliest story I’ve ever read or ever shall read in my whole life. Oh, I wish I could have gone on reading it for ten years. At least I’ll read it over again.”
But here part of the magic of the Book came into play. You couldn’t turn back. The right-hand pages, the ones ahead, could be turned; the left-hand pages could not.
“Oh, what a shame！” said Lucy. “I did so want to read it again. Well, at least I must remember it. Let’s see... it was about... about... oh dear, it’s all fading away again. And even this last page is going blank. This is a very queer book. How can I have forgotten? It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, I know that much. But I can’t remember and what shall I do?”
And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician’s Book.
She turned on and found to her surprise a page with no pictures at all; but the first words were A Spell to make hidden things visible. She read it through to make sure of all the hard words and then said it out loud. And she knew at once that it was working because as she spoke the colors came into the capital letters at the top of the page and the pictures began appearing in the margins. It was like when you hold to the fire something written in Invisible Ink and the writing gradually shows up; only instead of the dingy color of lemon juice（which is the easiest Invisible Ink）this was all gold and blue and scarlet. They were odd pictures and contained many figures that Lucy did not much like the look of. And then she thought, “I suppose I’ve made everything visible, and not only the Thumpers. There might be lots of other invisible things hanging about a place like this. I’m not sure that I want to see them all.”
At that moment she heard soft, heavy footfalls coming along the corridor behind her; and of course she remembered what she had been told about the Magician walking in his bare feet and making no more noise than a cat. It is always better to turn round than to have anything creeping up behind your back. Lucy did so.
Then her face lit up till, for a moment（but of course she didn’t know it）, she looked almost as beautiful as that other Lucy in the picture, and she ran forward with a little cry of delight and with her arms stretched out. For what stood in the doorway was Aslan himself, The Lion, the highest of all High Kings. And he was solid and real and warm and he let her kiss him and bury herself in his shining mane. And from the low, earthquake-like sound that came from inside him, Lucy even dared to think that he was purring.
“Oh, Aslan,” said she, “it was kind of you to come.”
“I have been here all the time,” said he, “but you have just made me visible.”
“Aslan！” said Lucy almost a little reproachfully. “Don’t make fun of me. As if anything I could do would make you visible！”
“It did,” said Aslan. “Do you think I wouldn’t obey my own rules?”
After a little pause he spoke again.
“Child,” he said, “I think you have been eavesdropping.”
“Eavesdropping?”
“You listened to what your two schoolfellows were saying about you.”
“Oh that? I never thought that was eavesdropping, Aslan. Wasn’t it magic?”
“Spying on people by magic is the same as spying on them in any other way. And you have misjudged your friend. She is weak, but she loves you. She was afraid of the older girl and said what she does not mean.”
“I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget what I heard her say.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh dear,” said Lucy. “Have I spoiled everything? Do you mean we would have gone on being friends if it hadn’t been for this—and been really great friends—all our lives perhaps—and now we never shall.”
“Child,” said Aslan, “did I not explain to you once before that no one is ever told what would have happened?”
“Yes, Aslan, you did,” said Lucy. “I’m sorry. But please—”
“Speak on, dear heart.”
“Shall I ever be able to, read that story again; the one I couldn’t remember? Will you tell it to me, Aslan? Oh do, do, do.”
“Indeed, yes, I will tell it to you for years and years. But now, come. We must meet the master of this house.”
第十章 魔法师的神奇书
这些隐形人盛情款待了来自纳尼亚的客人。只见盘盘碟碟飞落到了桌子上，却看不见有谁在端着，真是一幅滑稽的画面。那些杯盘即便是像你们想象的那样，在看不见的手中同地面平行着移动，也已经够搞笑了；可事实并不是这样的。那些盘盘碟碟在长长的餐厅里弹跳着往前移动。盘子跳得最高时约有十五英尺之高；接着又落下来，然后突然在离地大概三英尺的地方停住了。盘子里盛的是汤水或者炖菜时，后果就相当严重了。
“我开始有点儿好奇这些人到底是什么样子的。”尤斯塔斯悄声对爱德蒙说，“你觉得他们是人类吗？我觉得更有可能是大蚱蜢或者巨型青蛙。”
“看起来确实挺像的，”爱德蒙说道，“不过别让露西觉得可能是蚱蜢。她不太喜欢虫子，尤其是大虫子。”
要是场面不是那么混乱不堪、谈话也没有充斥着附和声的话，这顿晚饭原本可以更愉快。这些隐形人听到什么都表示同意。诚然，他们说的话本来也很难引起异议：“我总是说，一个人饿了的时候，就想吃点东西”，或者“现在天变黑了，每次到了夜里天色就变黑”，甚至“啊，你走过了水塘，水还真是湿得厉害啊，不是吗？”露西忍不住朝楼梯脚下那个黑漆漆的入口处张望着——从她坐的位子上正好能看见——不知第二天一早她上楼时都会看到些什么。不过这顿饭本身还是相当不错的，有蘑菇汤、煮鸡肉、烫过的火腿、醋栗、红醋栗、凝乳、奶油、牛奶和蜂蜜酒。其他人都很喜欢蜂蜜酒，不过尤斯塔斯事后却后悔自己喝了蜂蜜酒。
第二天早晨露西醒来时，感觉就好像这天有考试，或者要去看牙医似的。天气十分晴好，房间的窗户敞开着，传来了蜜蜂的嗡嗡声，屋外的草坪看上去就像身处英国的某个地方。她起了床，穿好衣服，吃早餐时勉强像往常一样说话、吃东西。接着，首领的声音告诉她要在楼上做什么后，她便同大家告了别，一言不发地走到楼梯脚下，头也不回地上楼了。
上楼的路挺亮堂的，这是件好事。她前方第一段台阶顶上便有一扇窗户。她踏上这段台阶时，能听见楼下大厅里老爷钟发出的“嘀嗒”声。然后她走上了楼梯平台处，往左拐又走上了第二段台阶；接下来她便听不见钟声了。
现在露西已经走到了台阶最上面的一级，她看到面前有一条长长的宽过道，过道尽头有一扇大窗户。很显然，这条过道和这栋房子是一样的长度。过道雕刻着花纹，镶了木板，还铺了地毯，两边开了多扇门。她一动不动地站着，听不见老鼠的吱吱声、苍蝇的嗡嗡声或者窗帘的摆动声，除了自己的心跳如擂鼓，她什么也听不见。
“左边最后一扇门。”她在心里默念。要走到最后一扇门确实是个不小的挑战，她得经过一个又一个房间。而那个魔法师可能就在其中任何一个房间里——醒着，或睡着，或隐形着，甚至有可能已经死了。可光是瞎想也无济于事，于是她踏上了这段冒险之途。地毯很厚，她踩上去没有发出一点动静。
“现在还没有什么可怕的。”露西对自己说。这条过道很安静，沐浴在阳光下；可能有些过于安静了。要是门上没有奇怪的猩红色符号就更好了，那些弯弯曲曲、形状繁杂的符号显然隐藏着什么寓意，而且有可能也不是什么好的寓意；要是墙上没有挂着面具那就再好不过了，倒也不是说它们很丑——或者说不是特别丑——不过那些空洞洞的眼窝看上去确实很怪异，如果你大胆设想的话，就会开始想象自己转过身去的时候，这些面具会开始动起来。
走过了第六扇门时，她开始第一次真正感到害怕。有那么一瞬间，她几乎能肯定自己看到一张小小的、蓄着胡子的邪恶面孔从墙上弹了出来，冲她做着鬼脸。她逼着自己停下脚步，定睛看一看。原来那根本不是一张脸，而是一面小小的镜子，和她自己脸的大小和形状一模一样，顶上有头发，下面还有胡子垂下来，这样人在照镜子的时候，脸正好落在头发和胡子之间，看上去就好像那是自己的头发和胡子一样。“我刚才经过的时候，正好用余光扫到了镜子里自己的脸而已。”露西心想，“仅此而已，没有什么好害怕的。”不过她不喜欢看到那头发和胡子在自己脸上的样子，于是继续走下去。（不过我不是魔法师，所以我也不知道这面长了胡子的镜子是干什么用的。）
露西走到左边最后一扇门口之前，她甚至都开始想，不知道是自己踏上这条走廊以后，走廊就开始变长了，还是这原本就是房子里的魔法。不过最后她终于还是走到了。房门开着。
这是一个很宽敞的房间，有三扇窗户，从地板到天花板都堆满了书，露西从来没见到过这么多的书，小小的袖珍书、厚重的大部头书，还有的书比你所见过的任何一本教堂圣经都要大，封面都是皮革装订，散发着古老博学而又神秘奇妙的气息。不过隐形人给过她指示，让她不必在意这些书。因为他们要找的那本书，那本魔法书，是放在房间中央的一个斜面书桌上的。她发现自己得站着看书（反正这里也没有椅子），而这就意味着她看书的时候要背对着门口。于是她赶紧转身去把门关上。
可门却关不上。
也许有人会不赞成露西的做法，但我觉得她做得挺对的。她说，如果门可以关上的话，她倒也不会介意，可是要让她站在这里，背对着敞开的门，总归还是有点忐忑不安的。换作是我的话，我也会这么觉得。可她也没有别的办法。
还有一件事令她很忧心，那就是这本书的大小。首领的声音之前并没有告诉她，那个能让物体变得可见的咒语在书中什么位置，他那时甚至有些惊讶她会问出这个问题。他指望着她能从头开始一点点翻找，直到找到咒语为止；很显然，他从没想到过除此之外还能有别的方法在书里找到咒语。“但这样我有可能得找上几天甚至几个星期啊！”露西看着这么一本庞然大物，喃喃说道，“我感觉自己已经在这里待了好几个小时了。”
她走到书桌前，把手放到书上，她的手指一碰到书便感觉一阵刺痛，就好像这本书带了电似的。她想翻开书，可一开始却翻不开；不过这只是因为书被两只铅制搭扣系住了，她打开搭扣以后很容易便把书打开了。打开后她眼前一亮：这本书多么不可思议啊！
这本书是手写的，不是印刷出来的；字迹清晰工整，向下的笔画粗重，向上的笔画轻细，字写得很大，比印刷出来的更易读。那书写实在太漂亮了，露西盯着字看了足足有一分钟，连书上在写什么都忘了读。纸张又薄又脆，光滑平整，还散发着一股好闻的味道；在书页边上空白处，每一个咒语开头大大的彩色大写字母旁边，都配有图片。
书上没有标题页，也没有标题；一开篇便直接是咒语，开头没有什么太重要的内容，无非就是治疣子的咒语（在月光下用银水槽洗手）、治牙疼和抽筋的咒语，还有一个能赶走成群蜜蜂的咒语。那幅画着牙疼男人的插图看上去太逼真了，看得久了，你自己的牙齿好像也会开始隐隐作痛；而第四个咒语周围画着的金黄小蜜蜂看上去好像真的在飞一样。
露西好不容易才将视线从第一页上移开，可她翻过这一页后，发现第二页同样也十分有趣。“不过我必须得加快速度了！”她告诉自己。之后她又翻看了将近三十页，要是能记住这些咒语的话，她应当已经学会了如何找到深埋的宝藏、找回遗忘的记忆、忘掉自己想忘掉的东西、辨别他人是否在说实话、召唤（或阻止）风雾雪雹雨、施法使人入眠，以及如何让人长出一颗驴脑袋（就像他们对可怜的鲍特姆所做的那样）。她读的时间越久，那些图片就变得越奇妙逼真。
接着她翻到的一页上画着许多图，十分炫目，读者几乎很难注意到上面的文字。不过露西还是勉强看到了前面几个字，写的是一个绝对有效的咒语，能够让她变得比所有凡人都美丽。露西把脸凑到书页前仔细端详图片，尽管图片之前看上去很拥挤逼仄，一团乱糟糟，但她现在却能看得挺清楚了。第一幅图上有个小女孩站在一个斜面书桌前，读着一本很大的书，这个女孩的穿着打扮与露西一模一样；第二幅图上露西（因为画中的女孩正是露西）正张着嘴站着，表情很可怕，口中念念有词；第三幅图上她已经得到了超越凡人的美貌。奇怪的是，起初图片看上去那么小，而现在画中的露西已经和真人一般大小了。她们看着彼此的眼睛，过了几分钟后真露西别开了眼去，她对另一个露西的美貌感到十分目眩神迷，尽管她依稀还能从那张绝美的脸上看到与自己的相似之处。此时这一张张图片目不暇接地铺盖在她眼前。在卡乐门盛大的骑士比武大赛上，她看到自己坐在高高的宝座上，全世界的国王都因她的美貌而厮杀；随后比武大赛演变成了真正的战争，无论是纳尼亚、亚钦兰、台尔马、卡乐门，还是盖尔马、泰瑞宾西亚，王公贵族们都争相博她青睐，相互打斗，于是到处都成了废墟，尸横遍野。接着图片又变了，此时依旧绝美无比的露西已经回到了英国，而苏珊（她一直是家中最漂亮的一个）也从美国回来了。图片中的苏珊看上去就和现实生活中一样，只不过更普通了，脸色也不怎么好看。苏珊很嫉妒露西那夺目的美貌，可那并不要紧，因为现在已经没人在意苏珊了。
“我要念这个咒语。”露西对自己说，“我不管，我就是要念。”她说“我不管”，是因为她有一种很强烈的感觉告诉自己，她不能这么做。
可当她再回过头去看咒语时，文字的中央——她很确定之前这里是没有图片的——出现了一头狮子的脸，是狮王阿斯兰的脸，正看着她。这幅图金光熠熠，明艳夺目，仿佛要冲出书页，直逼她而来；甚至她事后也没法肯定这幅图究竟有没有动过。不管怎么说，她很熟悉它的表情，它在咆哮着，露出一大排牙齿。露西很害怕，于是赶紧把这页翻了过去。
过了一会儿她又看到一个咒语，可以让你知道朋友对你是什么看法。现在露西真的很想试试之前那个可以让人变美的咒语，于是出于一种弥补刚才没能念那个咒语的心理，她决定一定要念这个咒语。她担心自己会改变主意，于是着急忙慌地念了出来（说什么我也不会告诉你们这个咒语是怎么念的）。接着她静静等待会发生什么。
但是什么也没有发生，于是她开始看书上的图片。她一下便瞧见了自己最不想看到的画面——图上画的是火车上的一个三等车厢，里面坐着两个女学生。露西一眼便认出了她们，分别是玛乔丽·普雷斯顿和安妮·费瑟斯通。只是现在那已不仅仅是一幅图了，画面真的动了起来，她能看见窗外的电线杆一个个一闪而过。渐渐地（就像是广播的声音一点一点在调大似的），她能听见她们俩在说什么了。
“这学期我还能见到你吗？”安妮问道，“还是说你依旧打算整天和露西·佩文西黏在一起？”
“我不知道你说的‘黏在一起’是什么意思。”玛乔丽回答道。
“你明明知道，”安妮酸溜溜地说，“上学期你不是还很迷她的嘛。”
“我哪里有啊，”玛乔丽否认道，“我还是有点理智的。她人不坏，可是上学期结束前我就已经厌倦她了。”
“好啊，你以后都别再想见到我了！”露西大喊道，“你这个两面派！”可她刚喊出声，立刻便意识到自己是在对着一幅图说话，而真正的玛乔丽还远在另一个世界呢。
“哼，”露西心想，“反正我也不觉得她有什么好的。上学期我为她做了那么多事，很多其他的女生都不理她了，就我还和她交朋友。她自己也知道的。我对安妮·费瑟斯通也算是够朋友了！真不知道是不是我所有的朋友都一个样子？这里还有很多图片呢。不，不行，我不能再看了。我不看了，不看了！”她下了好大的决心才把这一页翻过去，可一滴豆大的、愤怒的泪水已经溅落在了那页上面。
她在下一页看到了一个能够“舒缓心灵”的咒语，这个咒语的图片少一些，可都描画得十分美丽动人。露西觉得自己不像在读咒语，而更像在看故事咒语。一共有三页，可她还没看到一页的最后，之前看的就已经全忘记了。她觉得这个故事就像真的一样，而自己就生活在其中，所有的图片也都是真的。读到第三页的结尾时，她说：“这是我读过的最动人的故事了，可能也是我这一辈子会读到的最动人的故事了。噢，真希望我可以一直读下去，读个十年。至少我要再读一遍。”
可是这本魔法书神奇的地方就在于，你没法往回翻：右手边的书页可以往后翻动，而左手边的却翻不了。
“噢，真是太遗憾了！”露西说道，“我真的很想再读一遍。好吧，那么至少我得记住这个故事，让我想想……故事是关于……是关于……噢，老天哪，我全忘光了！现在就连这最后一页都变空白了。这本书真是奇怪。我怎么能忘记了呢？我只知道那是关于一只杯子、一把剑、一棵树和一座苍山的故事，可其他的我怎么也想不起来了，我该怎么办呢？”
她再也没有想起来这个故事。从那天起，但凡露西说一个故事很不错，意思就是这个故事能让她想起这本魔法书里自己忘记了的那个故事。
她继续翻下去，惊讶地发现有一页上连一张图片都没有，不过这页一开头的文字便是“一个能够让隐藏起来的东西变得可见的咒语”。她通读了一遍，确保拗口的生僻字自己都会念了，这才大声地读了出来。咒语一说出口，她立刻就知道灵验了，因为她在念的时候，书页顶上的大写字母变成了彩色，页边的图片也渐渐浮现了出来。这就好像你把用隐形墨水写就的东西拿到火边一样，文字会慢慢显示出来；只不过现在出现的文字并不是柠檬汁般暗淡的颜色（柠檬汁是最简易的隐形墨水），而全是金色、蓝色和红色的。这些图片看着很怪异，里面许多人物的长相露西也都不太喜欢。随后她心想：“我觉得我已经把一切隐形的东西都变得可见了，不仅仅是那些走路‘砰砰’响的人。在这样的地方，可能还有很多看不见的东西在晃来晃去呢，我不确定我想见到所有这些东西。”
就在这时，她听见身后的走廊里传来了轻柔而又沉重的脚步声，她当然记得那些隐形人告诉过她，魔法师总是赤着脚走来走去，发出的动静还不如一只大猫。这种时候最好还是转过身去，免得有什么东西出现在背后。于是露西就转过身去了。
随后她的脸上现出惊喜之情，以至于有那么一刻（不过当然她自己并不知道），她看上去就像画中的另一个露西一样光彩照人。她欢喜地惊呼一声，张开双臂向前奔去。原来门口站着的正是至尊国王之首，狮王阿斯兰，这次不是画也不是幻觉，而是有血有肉、真真切切的阿斯兰。他任由露西亲吻着自己，还把身子埋进自己金光闪闪的鬣毛里。露西听见他的身体里传来低低的、地震一般的声音，还大胆地猜测那是阿斯兰发出的呼噜声。
“噢，阿斯兰！”她说道，“你能来真是太好了！”
“我一直都在这里的，”他说，“只不过你刚刚把我变得可见了。”
“阿斯兰！”露西几乎有些责备地说，“你就不要取笑我啦。说得好像我有本事把你变得可见似的！”
“确实是你啊，”阿斯兰说道，“难不成你觉得我会违反自己的规矩吗？”
过了一会儿他又开口了。
“孩子，”他说，“我觉得你刚才在偷听别人说话。”
“偷听？”
“你在听学校里的两个朋友谈论关于你的事。”
“噢，你说那个？我从没觉得自己是在偷听呀，阿斯兰。难道那不是魔法吗？”
“用魔法偷听别人说话和用其他方式偷听是一回事。而且你错怪了你的朋友。她虽然有些软弱，但她爱你。她只是有些害怕那个年长些的女孩，所以才说了违心的话。”
“我觉得我永远也忘不了自己听到她说的那些话了。”
“没错，你不会忘记的。”
“哦，天哪，”露西说道，“我是不是把事情搞砸了？你的意思是不是说，要不是因为这件事，我们本可以一直做朋友——很要好的那种，甚至有可能成为一辈子的知己——可是现在我们再也不可能如此了。”
“孩子，”阿斯兰说道，“我以前难道没有告诉过你吗？没有人能够知晓未来可能会发生什么事。”
“是的，阿斯兰，你跟我说过的，”露西说，“对不起。可是求求你了——”
“你尽管说，亲爱的。”
“我还能再读一次那个故事吗？就是那个我怎么也想不起来的故事。你能给我讲讲那个故事吗，阿斯兰？求你了，答应我吧，答应吧。”
“当然可以了，我可以一直一直给你讲下去。不过现在你得跟我来。我们得去见见这栋房子的主人了。”
