The year wears on, as years so incorrigibly do. A flying horse who is not Flit travels to Narnia and dictates a popular collection of stories which are scribed down and distributed; Isabella's a fan. There is an enormous late-summer storm which tests some of the national architecture; repairs after that are pretty businesslike, although a few crops and houses are lost outright to flooding. The pictures of the lightning are spectacular, though. So are the pictures (a little gratuitously numerous) of James in armor. Over the course of the relevant section of the infinity notebook pictures of James not in armor also make an appearance, as "memories of kisses" serve to substitute somewhat for what the armor was doing in the first place.

Isabella has to renew her cordial again when a colony of dwarves takes fever. A few speaking animals want to settle on an island which has historically been considered too small to bother with; boating in Narnia is now in such a state that they will be able to travel to the mainland for supplies. Some giants have a giant baby and build a giant house. The first frost descends lightly; the second one is a hard crack of cold all at once, and then it is winter.

And, as is now the habit of winter, this winter contains Christmas.

And this Christmas contains monarchs waiting up till midnight.