Part One

The sound of the motorcar's screeching tyres was the last thing Susan heard before everything around her went black, and the pain that wracked her body, after exploding like a supernova, died away until she was left with nothingness.

The terrified sound of Lucy's screams, screaming her name to warn her, too late, became a gentler voice, one that, for a moment, she couldn't place. "Susan."

She opened her eyes, and found herself in a wood, calm and peaceful. A lion looked down at her with sad, caring eyes. "Aslan."

"You should take more care where you walk, child," he reprimanded gently, bending his head to touch her forehead with his muzzle.

"What happened? Am I dead? Is this heaven?"

Was there the slightest hesitation before he answered? She couldn't be sure. "This is the Wood between Worlds. You are not dead, Susan, here or in your own world. You are merely… sleeping."

"Sleeping? Is this a dream, then? Or is it real?"

"What do you mean by 'real'?" he asked. "This is real, and so are dreams. All things are real, in their way."

Typical Aslan, she thought, always talking in riddles. "But what happened?"

"You were hit by the motorcar," he said gently. "Your life… hangs in the balance. In your own world, they are rushing you to hospital, trying to save your life."

"Lucy – is she…"

"She is well," he reassured her. "The car did not touch her. She is badly shaken, but she is young and resilient, and she will be well enough in time, whether you live or not."

"I may still die, then?" she asked.

He inclined his head in assent. "As I said, your life hangs in the balance."

"So why am I here?"

"Because the choice is yours; to let go of your old life, or to go back to it – you must make that decision."

She swallowed. "Will I recover? And if I choose not to go back, what then?"

He regarded her for an instant, then motioned her to a pool. "Look into the waters, Susan, and they will show you what will happen in your own world if you choose to return. Look well, until the waters go dark again."

She sat by the edge of the pool, and gazed in, seeing at first a hospital ward. She was lying on the bed, pale, bandaged up. Lucy was by her side, weeping softly. Tears pricked in her own eyes, but she kept watching. The scene shifted, and she saw herself sitting at a table in the sunlight, writing. She was older, but did not look unhappy. An older Lucy, troubled, careworn, came in, and set a tea-tray down on the table, smiling only when Susan looked up and smiled at her. She turned away again, fiddling with something in a corner of the room, and the scene shifted again. Here, she was elderly, still sitting at the same table. Lucy entered again, this time with flowers. It shocked her to see how ill her little sister looked – how old and frail, and she almost looked away. But the last scene was the most bitter, for she was seated at the side of a grave, which bore only the name of her sister and her dates of birth and death. An older Peter and Edmund stood beside her, comforting her. Then the waters went dark.

She stepped away, troubled. "Aslan… why was I always seated?"

"You will not walk again in that world, dear heart. But I hope you have seen that a long and fulfilling life may await you there."

"Yes…" she had; although she had grieved to see Lucy growing old and careworn, she herself had seemed content. However… "But Lucy…"

"Lucy will not desert you," he said quietly. "Not till the bitter end."

"And it will be bitter – for her, won't it?"

"She would not have it any other way," he countered. "She would not allow another to care for you when she believed herself to be responsible for your injury."

"And if I die? What then?"

"That would be seeing her future, not yours, Susan, and that is not permitted."

She bowed her head. "Do I have to make the decision now, Aslan?"

"Yes, dear heart; it is time."

She sighed, and glanced at the pool. "I'm sorry, Lucy," she whispered. "Sorry that you'll blame yourself for a while. But I can't let you give up your life for me. I love you too much for that."

Aslan sighed. "It was well done," he told her. And in that moment, in a speeding ambulance, Susan Pevensie died.