And, of course, instantly they were.
The Psammead was furious.
“Look here,” it said, “they’ll come after you, and they’ll find me. There’ll be a National Cage built for me at Westminster, and I shall have to work at politics. Why wouldn’t you leave the things in their places?”
“What a temper you have, haven’t you?” said the Queen serenely. “I wish all the things were back in their places. Will that do for you?”
The Psammead swelled and shrank and spoke very angrily.
“I can’t refuse to give your wishes,” it said, “but I can Bite. And I will if this goes on. Now then.”
“Ah, don’t,” whispered Anthea close to its bristling ear; “it’s dreadful for us too. Don’t you desert us. Perhaps she’ll wish herself at home again soon.”
“Not she,” said the Psammead a little less crossly.
“Take me to see your City,” said the Queen.
The children looked at each other.