Nobody ever says it aloud, so it's hard to say how word gets around. But a month or two after she returns to school none of them dare talk about her. It's as if the understanding runs through them in wary silence, a warning sparked from one girl to the next, danger telegraphed without sound.

You mustn't speak ill of Lucy Pevensie. If you do, somehow she will know.

By half-term, they are almost afraid of her.

She almost likes it.