So thanks for reading my first story! This is the sequel, so enjoy!

It's called The Call after the very last song in Prince Caspian (movie), by Regina Spektor. I thought it was sort of appropriate. Here are the lyrics, just so you can see:

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry

I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before

All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
'Til they're before your eyes

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye

So now I will begin!

Chapter One

I pulled my cloak closer around me, but it didn't do much to shield me against the sheets of icy rain. Water trickled down the back of my neck, down my chest, seeping into my clothes and boots. My feet squished through the black mud, and I tried my best not to slip in the puddles of the ruts in the road.

Up ahead I could make out the low, dark silhouette of a barn. A way off, I saw the warm yellow light of a farmhouse. Shivering, I turned back to the barn and continued toward it. Maybe I could stay here for the night.

I leaned against the door, pushing it open with a squeak of rusty hinges. Then I eagerly stepped inside, followed by the sopping gray form of my faithful unicorn, Anduril. Once inside the barn he shook himself like a dog, sending a shower of cold water droplets off of his coat. I pushed the door closed again, and turned to face the interior of the barn.

It was much warmer in here, the presence of many animals heating it. I took a deep breath, inhaling the musky smell of hay, manure, leather, and animals. It wasn't a bad smell. It was a warm, inviting smell. I took off my cloak and shook it out. I found my oilskin bag with all my belongings inside, nice and dry. I stripped off my soaking tunic and leggings and socks, and laid them out to dry on a bale of hay with my cloak. Then I quickly dressed in a fresh dress.

I took a handful of straw and rubbed Andy's coat until he was dry and silver again, and he nuzzled me in gratitude. I rubbed the horny bump on his poll, between his ears, where his great spiral horn used to be. Before he sacrificed it to save my life. "We'll spend the night here Anduril. Then we can leave at dawn, before the farmer comes to tend to his cows." I whispered softly to him. I found an empty stall and settled myself down in the thick bed of straw. Using Andy's flank as a pillow, I covered myself in my two wool blankets, and quickly fell asleep.

I dreamt of a sun-filled country of forests and rivers and flowers. Strange, wonderful creatures danced through them, playing happy wood-songs on their pipes. I dreamt of a beautiful castle on a cliff overlooking the shining sea. I dreamt of Narnia.

It had already been three months since I had returned after fifteen years in that happy world, which meant it was now April. But now I was here in England again, wandering the countryside, hoping to eventually find my family again. Well, the Pevensies weren't actually related to me, but they might as well have been. They were like brothers and sisters to me. Well, except that I was in love with one of them.

Even though Aslan had warned me not to lose hope and to trust him, it was hard. I had very little food, just what I could hunt or scavenge. I had even come to stealing a few eggs from a chicken house once, and I had felt very bad about it. I slept in barns, the woods, or the houses of generous strangers. But I was miserable.

Morning came. I was awakened by the sound of the rusty barn door being shoved aside, and a cheerful tune being whistled. The whistler called, "Good morning Buttercup! Good morning Clover! Not going to kick the pail over this morning, are you Harriet?" I sat completely still, hoping that he wouldn't notice me and my "horse". I peeked over the top of the stall, and watched as a young man, probably in his late teens, began milking the doe-eyed Jersey cows at the other end of the barn. Early morning sunlight streamed through the windows and the door, dust motes dancing through the beams.

I crawled back over to Andy, who was listening tensely. I put my finger to my lips, and he nodded. I sat in the straw, trying my best to think of how I could get myself and Anduril out of here without the boy noticing us. Turns out I didn't have to.