Editorial Reviews. From School Library Journal. Grade King Caspian has grown old and The Silver Chair (Chronicles of Narnia Book 6) by [Lewis, C.S.]. A mass-market paperback edition of The Silver Chair, book six in the classic fantasy series, The Chronicles of Narnia, featuring cover art by Cliff Nielsen and. Illustrations in this ebook appear in vibrant full color on a full color ebook device, and in rich black and white on all other jinzihao.info where gi.
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Feb 5, Title: The Silver Chair This is not going to be a school story, so I shall say as little as Then an old owl, not Glimfeather, related the story. The Silver Chair (Chronicles of Narnia #4). Cover Image. Book Details apps open jinzihao.info files. PDF (tablet), jinzihao.info HTML Zip, jinzihao.info Lewis, C S - The Chronicles of Narnia 06 - The Silver Chair Read more C. S. Lewis-The Chronicles Of Narnia-All 7 Books. Read more.
Afterward, Aslan informs Jill and Eustace, that he needs their help to save Narnia. The land was getting nearer at a great pace. That was because she had given up saying the signs over every night. To her astonishment she saw the cliff already more than a hundred yards behind her, and the Lion himself a speck of bright gold on the edge of it. There was nothing that could be used for firewood, and there were no nice little hollows to camp in, as there had been on the moor. It poured through the doorway as the light of a June day pours into a garage when you open the door. He had been hard to see at first because he was nearly the same colour as the marsh and because he sat so still.
And imagine yourself looking down to the very bottom. And then imagine that the precipice goes on below that, as far again, ten times as far, twenty times as far. And when you've looked down all that distance imagine little white things that might, at first glance, be mistaken for sheep, but presently you realise that they are clouds—not little wreaths of mist but the enormous white, puffy clouds which are themselves as big as most mountains.
And at last, in between those clouds, you get your first glimpse of the real bottom, so far away that you can't make out whether it's field or wood, or land or water: Jill stared at it.
Then she thought that perhaps, after all, she would step back a foot or so from the edge; but she didn't like to for fear of what Scrubb would think. Then she suddenly decided that she didn't care what he thought, and that she would jolly well get away from that horrible edge and never laugh at anyone for not liking heights again. But when she tried to move, she found she couldn't. Her legs seemed to have turned into putty.
Everything was swimming before her eyes. Come back—blithering little idiot! But his voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. She felt him grabbing at her. But by now she had no control over her own arms and legs. There was a moment's struggling on the cliff edge. Jill was too frightened and dizzy to know quite what she was doing, but two things she remembered as long as she lived they often came back to her in dreams.
One was that she had wrenched herself free of Scrubb's clutches; the other was that, at the same moment, Scrubb himself, with a terrified scream, had lost his balance and gone hurtling to the depths. Fortunately she was given no time to think over what she had done. Some huge, brightly coloured animal had rushed to the edge of the cliff.
It was lying down, leaning over, and this was the odd thing blowing. Not roaring or snorting but just blowing from its wide-opened mouth; blowing out as steadily as a vacuum cleaner sucks in.
Jill was lying so close to the creature that she could feel the breath vibrating steadily through its body. She was lying still because she couldn't get up. She was nearly fainting: At last she saw, far away below her, a tiny black speck floating away from the cliff and slightly upwards. As it rose, it also got further away. By the time it was nearly on a level with the cliff top it was so far off that she lost sight of it.
It was obviously moving away from them at a great speed. Jill couldn't help thinking that the creature at her side was blowing it away. Without a glance at Jill the lion rose to its feet and gave one last blow.
Then, as if satisfied with its work, it turned and stalked slowly away, back into the forest. Or if he did, he had no business to bring me here without warning me what it was like. It's not my fault he fell over that cliff. If he'd left me alone we should both be all right. Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later and then you still have to decide what to do. When Jill stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty. She had been lying face downward, and now she sat up.
The birds had ceased singing and there was perfect silence except for one small persistent sound which seemed to come a good distance away.
She listened carefully and felt almost sure it was the sound of running water. Jill got up and looked round her very carefully.
There was no sign of the lion; but there were so many trees about that it might easily be quite close without her seeing it.
For all she knew, there might be several lions. But her thirst was very bad now, and she plucked up her courage to go and look for that running water.
She went on tip-toes, stealing cautiously from tree to tree, and stopping to peer round her at every step. The wood was so still that it was not difficult to decide where the sound was coming from. It grew clearer every moment and, sooner than she expected, she came to an open glade and saw the stream, bright as glass, running across the turf a stone's throw away from her. But although the sight of the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn't rush forward and drink.
She stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very good reason; just on this side of the stream lay the lion. It lay with its head raised and its two fore-paws out in front of it, like the lions in Trafalgar Square. She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked straight into hers for a moment and then turned away—as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first. They were the first words she had heard since Scrubb had spoken to her on the edge of the cliff.
For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, "If you are thirsty, come and drink," and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realised that it was the lion speaking. Anyway, she had seen its lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man's. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a sort of heavy, golden voice.
It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way. The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realised that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry.
It just said it. It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion—no one who had seen his stern face could do that—and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished.
Now, she realised that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all. She got up and stood there with her lips still wet from drinking. And she had to. She was almost between its front paws now, looking straight into its face. But she couldn't stand that for long; she dropped her eyes. Do so no more. And now" here for the first time the Lion's face became a little less stern "the Boy is safe.
I have blown him to Narnia. But your task will be the harder because of what you have done. This puzzled Jill very much. She didn't dare to tell the Lion this, though she felt things would get into a dreadful muddle unless she did. Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to—to Somebody—it was a name I wouldn't know—and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open.
And now hear your task. Far from here in the land of Narnia there lives an aged king who is sad because he has no prince of his blood to be king after him.
He has no heir because his only son was stolen from him many years ago and no one in Narnia knows where that prince went or whether he is still alive. But he is. I lay on you this command, that you seek this lost prince until either you have found him and brought him to his father's house, or else died in the attempt, or else gone back into your own world.
First; as soon as the Boy Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old and dear friend. He must greet that friend at once; if he does, you will both have good help. Second; you must journey out of Narnia to the north till you come to the ruined city of the ancient giants. Third; you shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you. Fourth; you will know the lost prince if you find him by this, that he will be the first person you have met in your travels who will ask you to do something in my name, in the name of Aslan.
As the Lion seemed to have finished, Jill thought she should say something. So she said "Thank you very much. I see. But the first step is to remember.
Repeat to me, in order, the four signs. Jill tried, and didn't get them quite right. So the Lion corrected her and made her repeat them again and again till she could say them perfectly. He was very patient over this, so that, when it was done, Jill plucked up courage to ask:.
But I suppose it won't matter. If he sees an old friend, he's sure to go and speak to him, isn't he? Walk before me to the edge of the cliff. Jill remembered very well that if there was no time to spare, that was her own fault. And he'd have heard all the instructions as well as me," she thought. So she did as she was told.
It was very alarming walking back to the edge of the cliff, especially as the Lion did not walk with her but behind her—making no noise on his soft paws. But long before she had got anywhere near the edge, the voice behind her said, "Stand still. In a moment I will blow. But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night.
And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs. And secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there.
That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.
And now, daughter of Eve, farewell——". The voice had been growing softer towards the end of this speech and now it faded away altogether. Jill looked behind her. To her astonishment she saw the cliff already more than a hundred yards behind her, and the Lion himself a speck of bright gold on the edge of it. She had been setting her teeth and clenching her fists for a terrible blast of lion's breath; but the breath had really been so gentle that she had not even noticed the moment at which she left the earth.
And now, there was nothing but air for thousands upon thousands of feet below her. She felt frightened only for a second. For one thing, the world beneath her was so very far away that it seemed to have nothing to do with her. For another, floating on the breath of the Lion was so extremely comfortable. She found she could lie on her back or on her face and twist any way she pleased, just as you can in water if you've learned to float really well.
And because she was moving at the same pace as the breath, there was no wind, and the air seemed beautifully warm. It was not in the least like being in an aeroplane, because there was no noise and no vibration. If Jill had ever been in a balloon she might have thought it more like that; only better. When she looked back now she could take in for the first time the real size of the mountain she was leaving.
She wondered why a mountain so huge as that was not covered with snow and ice—"but I suppose all that sort of thing is different in this world," thought Jill.
Then she looked below her; but she was so high that she couldn't make out whether she was floating over land or sea, nor what speed she was going at.
The signs! Fancy sleeping on air. I wonder if anyone's done it before. I don't suppose they have. Oh bother—Scrubb probably has! On this same journey, a little bit before me.
Let's see what it looks like down below. What it looked like was an enormous, very dark blue plain. There were no hills to be seen, but there were biggish white things moving slowly across it. I suppose they're bigger because they're nearer. I must be getting lower. Bother this sun. The sun which had been high overhead when she began her journey was now getting in her eyes.
This meant that it was getting lower, ahead of her. Scrubb was quite right in saying that Jill I don't know about girls in general didn't think much about points of the compass. Otherwise she would have known, when the sun began getting in her eyes, that she was travelling pretty nearly due west. Staring at the blue plain below her, she presently noticed that there were little dots of brighter, paler colour in it here and there. She might have felt rather jealous if she had known that some of them were islands which Scrubb had seen from a ship's deck and even landed on; but she didn't know this.
Then, later on, she began to see that there were little wrinkles on the blue flatness: And now, all along the horizon there was a thick dark line which grew thicker and darker so quickly that you could see it growing. That was the first sign she had had of the great speed at which she was travelling. And she knew that the thickening line must be land. Suddenly from her left for the wind was in the south a great white cloud came rushing towards her, this time on the same level as herself.
And before she knew where she was, she had shot right into the middle of its cold, wet fogginess. That took her breath away, but she was in it only for a moment.
She came out blinking in the sunlight and found her clothes wet. She had on a blazer and sweater and shorts and stockings and pretty thick shoes; it had been a muddy sort of day in England. She came out lower than she had gone in; and as soon as she did so she noticed something which, I suppose, she ought to have been expecting, but which came as a surprise and a shock. It was Noises. Up till then she had travelled in total silence.
Now, for the first time, she heard the noise of waves and the crying of seagulls. And now too she smelled the smell of the sea. There was no mistake about her speed now. She saw two waves meet with a smack and a spout of foam go up between them; but she had hardly seen it before it was a hundred yards behind her. The land was getting nearer at a great pace. She could see mountains far inland, and other nearer mountains on her left. She could see bays and headlands, woods and fields, stretches of sandy beach.
The sound of waves breaking on the shore was growing louder every second and drowning the other sea noises. Suddenly the land opened right ahead of her.
She was coming to the mouth of a river. She was very low now, only a few feet above the water. A wave-top came against her toe and a great splash of foam spurted up, drenching her nearly to the waist. Now she was losing speed. Instead of being carried up the river she was gliding in to the river bank on her left. There were so many things to notice that she could hardly take them all in; a smooth, green lawn, a ship so brightly coloured that it looked like an enormous piece of jewellery, towers and battlements, banners fluttering in the air, a crowd, gay clothes, armour, gold, swords, a sound of music.
But this was all jumbled. The first thing that she knew clearly was that she had alighted and was standing under a thicket of trees close by the river side, and there, only a few feet away from her, was Scrubb. The first thing she thought was how very grubby and untidy and generally unimpressive he looked.
And the second was "How wet I am! What made Scrubb look so dingy and Jill too, if she could only have seen herself was the splendour of their surroundings.
I had better describe them at once. Through a cleft in those mountains which Jill had seen far inland as she approached the land, the sunset light was pouring over a level lawn. On the far side of the lawn, its weather-vanes glittering in the light, rose a many-towered and many-turreted castle; the most beautiful castle Jill had ever seen.
On the near side was a quay of white marble and, moored to this, the ship: The gangplank was laid to her, and at the foot of it, just ready to go on board, stood an old, old man. He wore a rich mantle of scarlet which opened in front to show his silver mail shirt. There was a thin circlet of gold on his head.
His beard, white as wool, fell nearly to his waist. He stood straight enough, leaning one hand on the shoulder of a richly dressed lord who seemed younger than himself: He looked as if a puff of wind could blow him away, and his eyes were watery.
Immediately in front of the King—who had turned round to speak to his people before going on board the ship—there was a little chair on wheels, and, harnessed to it, a little donkey: In this chair sat a fat little dwarf. He was as richly dressed as the King, but because of his fatness and because he was sitting hunched up among cushions, the effect was quite different: He was as old as the King, but more hale and hearty, with very keen eyes.
His bare head, which was bald and extremely large, shone like a gigantic billiard ball in the sunset light. Farther back, in a half-circle, stood what Jill at once knew to be the courtiers. They were well worth looking at for their clothes and armour alone. As far as that went, they looked more like a flower bed than a crowd. But what really made Jill open her eyes and mouth as wide as they would go, was the people themselves. If "people" was the right word.
For only about one in every five was human. The rest were things you never see in our world. Fauns, satyrs, centaurs: Jill could give a name to these, for she had seen pictures of them. Dwarfs too. And there were a lot of animals she knew as well; bears, badgers, moles, leopards, mice, and various birds.
But then they were so very different from the animals which one called by the same names in England. Some of them were much bigger—the mice, for instance, stood on their hind legs and were over two feet high. But quite apart from that, they all looked different. You could see by the expression in their faces that they could talk and think just as well as you could. At that moment Aslan and the signs rushed back into her mind.
She had forgotten all about them for the last half-hour. I want to listen. Don't you see some old friend here? Because you've got to go and speak to him at once. The King was speaking to the Dwarf, but Jill couldn't hear what he said. And, as far as she could make out, the Dwarf made no answer, though he nodded and wagged his head a great deal.
Then the King raised his voice and addressed the whole court: When the speech was over, the King stooped down and kissed the Dwarf on both cheeks, straightened himself, raised his right hand as if in blessing, and went, slowly and with feeble steps, up the gangway and on board the ship. The courtiers appeared to be greatly moved by his departure.
Handkerchiefs were got out, sounds of sobbing were heard in every direction. The gangway was cast off, trumpets sounded from the poop, and the ship moved away from the quay. It was being towed by a rowing-boat, but Jill didn't see that.
It was a white owl, but so big that it stood as high as a good-sized dwarf. It blinked and peered as if it were short-sighted, and put its head a little on one side, and said in a soft, hooting kind of voice. There's something magic about you two. I saw you arrive: Everyone else was so busy seeing the King off that nobody knew.
Except me. I happened to notice you, you flew. I'm not quite myself till the sun's down. What a to-do! I can't think clearly yet. It's too early. And Jill wondered why Scrubb had suddenly pulled up short in his walk and turned an extraordinary colour. She thought she had never seen him look so sick about anything. But before she had time to ask any questions they had reached the Dwarf, who was just gathering up the reins of his donkey and preparing to drive back to the castle.
The crowd of courtiers had broken up and were going in the same direction, by ones and twos and little knots, like people coming away from watching a game or a race. Lord Regent," said the Owl, stooping down a little and holding its beak near the Dwarf's ear. What d'ye mean? What do they want? She was very eager to explain the important business on which they had come.
I don't believe a word of it. What girls? Who killed 'em? Who's been killed? You needn't shout. I'm not so deaf as all that. What do you mean by coming here to tell me that nobody's been killed?
Why should anyone have been killed? Is that any reason for bringing him to court?
I don't know what you're talking about, I'm sure. I tell you what it is, Master Glimfeather; when I was a young Dwarf there used to be talking beasts and birds in this country who really could talk.
There wasn't all this mumbling and muttering and whispering. It wouldn't have been tolerated for a moment. Not for a moment, Sir. Urnus, my trumpet please——". A little Faun who had been standing quietly beside the Dwarf's elbow all this time now handed him a silver ear-trumpet.
It was made like the musical instrument called a serpent, so that the tube curled right round the Dwarf's neck. While he was getting it settled the Owl, Glimfeather, suddenly said to the children in a whisper:. Don't say anything about the lost Prince. I'll explain later. It wouldn't do, wouldn't do, Tu-Whoo! Oh what a to-do!
Take a deep breath and don't attempt to speak too quickly. With help from the children, and in spite of a fit of coughing on the part of the Dwarf, Glimfeather explained that the strangers had been sent by Aslan to visit the court of Narnia.
The Dwarf glanced quickly up at them with a new expression in his eyes. But the Dwarf didn't seem to notice. If the good King, my poor Master, had not this very hour set sail for Seven Isles, he would have been glad of your coming.
It would have brought back his youth to him for a moment—for a moment. And now, it is high time for supper. You shall tell me your business in full council to-morrow morning. Master Glimfeather, see that bedchambers and suitable clothes and all else are provided for these guests in the most honourable fashion.
And—Glimfeather—in your ear——". Here the Dwarf put his mouth close to the Owl's head and, no doubt, intended to whisper: After that, the Dwarf touched up his donkey and it set off towards the castle at something between a trot and a waddle it was a very fat little beast while the Faun, the Owl, and the children followed at a rather slower pace. The sun had set and the air was growing cool. They went across the lawn and then through an orchard and so to the North Gate of Cair Paravel, which stood wide open.
Inside, they found a grassy courtyard. Lights were already showing from the windows of the great hall on their right and from a more complicated mass of buildings straight ahead. Into these the Owl led them, and there a most delightful person was called to look after Jill. She was not much taller than Jill herself, and a good deal slenderer, but obviously full grown, graceful as a willow, and her hair was willowy too, and there seemed to be moss in it.
She brought Jill to a round room in one of the turrets, where there was a little bath sunk in the floor and a fire of sweet-smelling woods burning on the flat hearth and a lamp hanging by a silver chain from the vaulted roof. The window looked west into the strange land of Narnia, and Jill saw the red remains of the sunset still glowing behind distant mountains. It made her long for more adventures and feel sure that this was only the beginning.
When she had had her bath, and brushed her hair, and put on the clothes that had been laid out for her—they were the kind that not only felt nice, but looked nice and smelled nice and made nice sounds when you moved as well—she would have gone back to gaze out of that exciting window, but she was interrupted by a bang on the door. And in came Scrubb, also bathed and splendidly dressed in Narnian clothes. But his face didn't look as if he were enjoying it.
That's what you think, is it? It's—it's frightful. Now that I come to think of it, you couldn't. I didn't tell you that this world has a different time from ours. Do you see?
I mean, however long we spend here, we shall still get back to Experiment House at the moment we left it——". Don't keep interrupting. And when you're back in England—in our world—you can't tell how time is going here. It might be any number of years in Narnia while we're having one year at home. The Pevensies explained it all to me, but, like a fool, I forgot about it. And now apparently it's been about seventy years—Narnian years—since I was here last.
Do you see now? And I come back and find Caspian an old, old man. And last time he was only a few years older than me. And to see that old man with a white beard, and to remember Caspian as he was the morning we captured the Lone Islands, or in the fight with the Sea Serpent—oh, it's frightful. It's worse than coming back and finding him dead. We've muffed the first Sign. Then Jill told him about her conversation with Aslan and the four signs and the task of finding the lost prince which had been laid upon them.
And now you haven't, and everything is going wrong from the very beginning. Are you sure you didn't see anyone else first? Making up for lost time: It was the castle bell ringing for supper, and thus what looked like turning into a first-rate quarrel was happily cut short. Both had a good appetite by this time. Supper in the great hall of the castle was the most splendid thing either of them had ever seen; for though Eustace had been in that world before, he had spent his whole visit at sea and knew nothing of the glory and courtesy of the Narnians at home in their own land.
The banners hung from the roof, and each course came in with trumpeters and kettledrums. There were soups that would make your mouth water to think of, and the lovely fishes called pavenders, and venison and peacock and pies, and ices and jellies and fruit and nuts, and all manner of wines and fruit drinks. Even Eustace cheered up and admitted that it was "something like". And when all the serious eating and drinking was over, a blind poet came forward and struck up the grand old tale of Prince Cor and Aravis and the horse Bree, which is called The Horse and his Boy and tells of an adventure that happened in Narnia and Calormen and the lands between, in the Golden Age when Peter was High King in Cair Paravel.
I haven't time to tell it now, though it is well worth hearing. When they were dragging themselves upstairs to bed, yawning their heads off, Jill said, "I bet we sleep well, to-night"; for it had been a full day. Which just shows how little anyone knows what is going to happen to them next.
It is a very funny thing that the sleepier you are, the longer you take about getting to bed; especially if you are lucky enough to have a fire in your room. Jill felt she couldn't even start undressing unless she sat down in front of the fire for a bit first. And once she had sat down, she didn't want to get up again.
She had already said to herself about five times, "I must go to bed", when she was startled by a tap on the window. She got up, pulled the curtain, and at first saw nothing but darkness. See the Lady of the Green Kirtle for more discussion. The manner of Rilian's confinement to a chair recalls the imprisonment of Theseus and Pirithous in the Underworld when discovered there by Heracles on his twelfth and final labour, the abduction of Cerberus.
It was the fourth and last of the Narnia books that the BBC adapted for television. On 1 October , The C. The Silver Chair , following the film series' mirroring of the novel's publication order in contrast to Walden Media's initial pushing for The Magician's Nephew during planning for a fourth film.
Lewis Company, will serve as producers and work with The Mark Gordon Company on developing the script. Lewis Company. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. This article needs additional citations for verification. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. Find sources: A manuscript by Lewis, the " Outline of Narnian History ", dates major events in the Narnia world and simultaneous events in England.
Since his death, it has been published in books about Narnia and it is generally considered valid. The Silver Chair". Retrieved 8 December Retrieved 23 June Library of Congress Catalog Record.
LCC record. Retrieved The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction 3rd ed.
New York: St Martin's Griffin. Retrieved 9 April In Frank M. Chapman, editor. Harrisburg, PA: CS1 maint: Extra text: The Silver Chair. Macmillan Publishing Co. Deadline Hollywood. Retrieved 6 October The Wrap. Archived from the original on 18 September Retrieved 12 November The Chronicles of Narnia by C.
The nobleman explains that the lady is, in fact, this castles queen and also his savior. He falls under a wicked spell which causes him to fall in a fit of madness, which lasts at full length an hour. Jill, Eustace and Puddleglum witness the nobleman in his fit of madness first hand. While in this state, he begs them to release him.
Afraid, the trio is reluctant to, until he orders them to release him in the name of Aslan. Can they overcome the power of her dark magic, or shall they be captured as the earthmen who serve as her henchmen had been? But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.
Lewis, The Silver Chair. Leave us a comment or like if you enjoyed this brief summary. All soft copy books of The Chronicles of Narnia: Thank you!