There exist things older and darker than the Deep Magic, and from these was Jadis born; Jadis who silences, Jadis who conquers, Jadis who ends.

Jadis who knows that magic comes from speech, from lips and tongues, formed of air breathed through throats and lungs.

So it is these she begins with, once the Lion lies dead; his tongue and throat and lungs vanishing into the red maw of her lips, word by glorying, devoured word.