Far overhead from beyond t h e veil of blue sky which hid t h em t h e stars sang again; a pure, cold, difficult music. t h en t h ere came a swift flash like fire (but it burnt nobody) eit h er from t h e sky or from t h e Lion itself, and every drop of blood tingled in t h e children's bodies, and t h e deepest, wildest voice t h ey had ever heard was saying: “Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake. Love. Think. Speak. Be walking trees. Be talking beasts. Be divine waters.