“Please we want to know where the other half of the charm is.”
“The part of the Amulet which is lost,” said the beautiful voice, “was broken and ground into the dust of the shrine that held it. It and the pin that joined the two halves are themselves dust, and the dust is scattered over many lands and sunk in many seas.”
“Oh, I say!” murmured Robert, and a blank silence fell.
“Then it’s all up?” said Cyril at last; “it’s no use our looking for a thing that’s smashed into dust, and the dust scattered all over the place.”
“If you would find it,” said the voice, “You must seek it where it still is, perfect as ever.”
“In the Past you may find it,” said the voice.
The Psammead whispered crossly, “Don’t you understand? The thing existed in the Past. If you were in the Past, too, you could find it. It’s very difficult to make you understand things. Time and space are only forms of thought.”
“No, you don’t,” said the Psammead, “and it doesn’t matter if you don’t, either. What I mean is that if you were only made the right way, you could see everything happening in the same place at the same time. Now do you see?”
“I’m afraid _I_ don’t,” said Anthea; “I’m sorry I’m so stupid.”
“Well, at any rate, you see this. That lost half of the Amulet is in the Past. Therefore it’s in the Past we must look for it. I mustn’t speak to the charm myself. Ask it things! Find out!”
“Where can we find the other part of you?” asked Cyril obediently.
“I may not tell you. If you will choose a time, I will take you to the place that then held it. You yourselves must find it.”
“When did you see it last?” asked Anthea—“I mean, when was it taken away from you?”
“That was thousands of years ago. The Amulet was perfect then, and lay in a shrine, the last of many shrines, and I worked wonders. Then came strange men with strange weapons and destroyed my shrine, and the Amulet they bore away with many captives. But of these, one, my priest, knew the word of power, and spoke it for me, so that the Amulet became invisible, and thus returned to my shrine, but the shrine was broken down, and ere any magic could rebuild it one spoke a word before which my power bowed down and was still. And the Amulet lay there, still perfect, but enslaved. Then one coming with stones to rebuild the shrine, dropped a hewn stone on the Amulet as it lay, and one half was sundered from the other. I had no power to seek for that which was lost. And there being none to speak the word of power, I could not rejoin it. So the Amulet lay in the dust of the desert many thousand years, and at last came a small man, a conqueror with an army, and after him a crowd of men who sought to seem wise, and one of these found half the Amulet and brought it to this land. But none could read the name. So I lay still. And this man dying and his son after him, the Amulet was sold by those who came after to a merchant, and from him you bought it, and it is here, and now, the name of power having been spoken, I also am here.”