The first thing Edmund was aware of was that he was lying on something soft. Something soft? In the witch's castle? But it wasn't the witch's castle. With a gasp, Edmund opened his eyes as he remembered the events of last night. He remembered the witch sharpening her knife, the cold fear he had felt, and then, the kind voices and strong arms that untied him and carried him home. But he wasn't home.

Edmund looked around. He was in some sort of tent. He stepped out of it and squinted at the bright sunlight. Where was he? Who had rescued him? How had they been able to rescue him, without being turned into stone? He saw a small pitcher of water and bent down to wash his face. Or should he? Was it even clean water? Against his better judgement, Edmund poured the water onto his hand and awkardly rubbed his face anyway.

"Edmund Pevensie."

Edmund turned around and the pitcher slipped from his hands, breaking into little pieces. He saw a lion. The lion was beautiful, large, golden, majestic and terrifying. Edmund knew without being told that this was Aslan. Aslan looked into Edmund's eyes. Edmund could not bear it and lowered his gaze. Aslan's eyes were too penetrating. Edmund saw his reflection in them and he did not like what he saw.

Edmund began to shake. He dug his fingers into his pockets to hide their trembling. Would Aslan kill him? He had betrayed Narnia. He had betrayed his family.

"Why won't you look at me, Son of Adam?"

He glanced up and quickly lowered his gaze again. Suddenly, he wanted to plead for his life, to explain, to justify himself.

"Aslan, I…" his throat was dry. He cleared his throat and went on, "I didn't know what I was doing. It's not really my fault. I thought…" Suddenly his words sounded ridiculous to himself, but he finished the sentence anyway. "I thought she was good."

Aslan did not speak but just looked at him sadly.

"Well, maybe I wasn't sure, but she was so kind to me the first time, that I thought…" Aslan still looked at him. Edmund stopped. He could not lie anymore. Not now. Not to Aslan. He knew that the next words he said would condemn him, but he felt he had no choice but to speak the truth.

"Well, I suppose, I did know, Aslan. I… I knew she was evil. I just didn't care." Edmund took a deep breath and went on. "I'm a traitor. I deserve death, don't I?"

Edmund felt that he could bear it no longer. Why didn't Aslan say something? Anything would be better than this silence. And yet, he was afraid of what Aslan might say. How many people, well, creatures, had he harmed or put in danger? Mr. Tumnus, the beavers, his own family? Peter probably hated him now. Oh, Peter, I'm sorry, he thought. I'm so sorry. It wasn't enough to think it, he knew. "I'm sorry, Aslan," he said, swallowing. And suddenly, he had to know. "Aslan, are the girls and Peter all right?" Suddenly, the answer to that question mattered more to him than anything else. Even more than his own life.

Aslan finally spoke. "Yes, and you shall see them soon. You shall live Edmund Pevensie."

Edmund exhaled. Whether it was relief for his brother and sisters or for his own life, he did not know, probably both.

"You shall live and you shall rule over Narnia."

Edmund stared at Aslan. " But Aslan…I thought…"

"What did you think?"

"Well, I didn't think I would get to rule."

"Did you hear the prophecy?"

"Well, yes. But I thought I had forfeited my right to be king."

"Your conduct does not change the prophecy, Edmund. You shall be king."

Strange. Earlier, all that he had wanted was to rule Narnia, but now that Aslan was telling him he would, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wasn't sure he could.

"Aslan, I don't think you should make me king. I would not make a very good king. I don't think I can do it." But a wild hope seized him and he answered quietly," But I could try."

Aslan smiled. It was a great, beautiful, kind smile. "That is exactly the sort of answer I wanted to hear from you, Edmund. You shall rule. You shall not rule alone, but with your siblings by your side and I shall direct your steps."

Edmund was silent, contemplating Aslan's words. It seemed too wonderful.

"Are you hungry?"

Edmund suddenly realized he was starving. He nodded.

"Follow me and I shall feed you."

"Just as long as it's not turkish delight," Edmund said with a shudder, remembering the enchanted sweets that had drawn him to the witch's castle.

"Temptations can be strong," Aslan said.

"Yes," said Edmund. He frowned.

"What's on your mind, Edmund?"

"Aslan, what sort of king would I make if I can't even refuse an offer of enchanted candy?"

Aslan stopped and looked at him. "Edmund, I promise you that you shall never meet with a temptation that you cannot overcome, provided you choose to overcome it."

They reached the table. There was nothing on it except a loaf of sliced bread. Edmund grabbed the bread and stuffed it into his mouth. It tasted wonderful. Aslan watched him with a smile.

"Are you thirsty?" Aslan asked when Edmund had finished eating. Edmund nodded.

Aslan walked back to the tent.

"Take the pitcher and you can use it to draw water for yourself in the spring."

Edmund stared at Aslan in confusion. "The pitcher is broken," he said.

"Then, put it back together again, Edmund. It won't be easy but I shall help you."

Edmund bit his lip, then suddenly, he understood perfectly. He smiled and leaned down to pick up the pieces. With difficulty he placed them all the way they had been. They would not hold. Edmund looked up at Aslan in despair and Aslan leaned over and breathed on the pieces. And suddenly, the pitcher was whole again. At that moment Edmund was filled with a feeling he hadn't had in years. Absolute, complete trust.