The return journey was not a shortcut they followed with their eyes closed. The grain wagon took the stone roads marked on the back of the map, passing several travelers’ lodgings. The people riding it knew the bridges and springs. When they reached ground loosened by rain, they still stopped to check. They did not hurry the wagon onward just because Chris was anxious.
At the Delectable Mountains, Watchful joined them. Little-faith was still recovering at the foot of the mountains. Hearing that they were returning to the City of Destruction, he brought out a few coins he could spare, hoping to add to their food. Chris accepted only a small bag of dried fruit and asked him to keep what he needed to live on.
Ignorance was at the lodging too. His leg was well enough for him to walk slowly. When he heard that Chris meant to rescue his family, he asked whether he could help load their things onto the wagon. He no longer said he knew every road. When a sack was heavy, he called someone to help lift it.
At the broken bridge, they found that new beams had already been fitted. The repairer recognized them and said the barriers they had left had stopped a couple carrying a child from crossing. Chris touched the sturdy rail and felt warm inside. He had not had to finish the whole journey before doing something that helped.
At Palace Beautiful, Charity replenished their food, and Prudence checked Chris’s sore feet again. Nobody said he had come back too late or expected him to carry out a dangerous task alone. They divided the work: some continued delivering grain, some looked after young children, and some notified the lodgings ahead.
At the Interpreter’s house, Chris finally heard more recent news. His sister often stood at the window waiting for him. His mother had put the first letter in a drawer. His father had had the wall patched several times, but whenever one crack was repaired, another appeared elsewhere.
Chris was so anxious he wanted to run at once. The Interpreter first asked him to drink some water, then helped him point out the most important places on the map. “When you get home, first ask what they have been through. Then tell them how to go. Don’t think only of saying everything at once.”
Goodwill was still keeping the narrow gate. Knowing that a group was returning to the City of Destruction, he had asked Help to prepare stepping stones and markers beside the marsh. At the gate, Chris remembered his muddy hands when he first knocked. Only now did he understand that he was not the only one who had seen the lamp inside.
Before they went out, Goodwill asked, “Do you still think you must do everything by yourself before you may ask for help?”
Chris looked toward Hopeful and Watchful beside the wagon and shook his head. “I can’t do it all. But I know who I can do it with.”
At last the walls of the City of Destruction appeared ahead. Torn scraps of cloth hung where colorful flags had been. People still called out their goods by the gate, but the ground had tilted. A strange sound came from the wagon wheels as they passed.
Chris climbed down first. His heart beat quickly, and his legs felt a little weak. Hopeful came beside him and walked with him through the gate. Neither boy raised a sword or shouted about who was right. Carrying maps, food, and true news, they went toward Chris’s home in the south of the city.
