Reepicheep shakes his darkly-furred head, the feather in his headband waving gently with the motion. "That, I could not begin to guess," he tells her. "I know that she must have been old, and wise, and powerful, because almost all of the other dryads of Narnia had hidden themselves away, sleeping in their trees while the Conquerors reigned."

A light step sounds in the hall, and a gentle rap at the door before it opens and Caspian steps inside. "Hullo," he says, cheerfully. He's come straight from the stables, and some bits of straw and hay-dust on his clothes confirm it. "Is Reep telling you stories, Susan? He's quite good at it, isn't he?"