Back in England, Eustace would wonder when he started to believe in Aslan; his cousins never asked, because one did not ask such questions, one only believed. But he was Eustace, he wondered; even the Undragoned couldn’t do away with questioning things that appear out of thin air right away.

Yet surely it was the moment he took to the air as a dragon and all worries and fear abandoned him, the wind filling him with joy instead, that he believed, because who else but the most divine could love him enough to hold him up so and not let him fall?