“You‘re not.not a.？” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“Do I look it？” he said.
“Oh， you‘re real， you’re real！ Oh， Aslan！” cried Lucy， and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.
“But what does it all mean？” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“It means，” said Aslan， “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic， there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back， into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned， she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor‘s stead， the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards. And now.”
“Oh yes. Now？” said Lucy， jumping up and clapping her hands.
