Letitia Ketterley had had a long day. Probably the longest in her memory, although the headache threatening to rip her brain apart was making that difficult to confirm. She desperately needed a cup of tea and a long bath but had no idea when the opportunity for that might come. She was trying to finish washing up in the kitchen, which on a normal day would have been done hours ago, but couldn't seem to focus on the task at hand.

The day had been far from normal, and Letty knew exactly who to blame for it: her fool of a brother had finally gone too far. She'd been able to tolerate his schemes and fantasies for years, since they had usually come to nothing and been relatively harmless (although she got strange looks from the owner of the pet shop when she went in to look at the kittens, and was not at all sure that it didn't have something to do with Andrew and the urgent-sounding squeaking she occasionally heard late at night from upstairs). This time, though, he had humiliated her in her own home, which had apparently been given over to that… thing. That woman.

She was not quite certain that it was, in fact, a woman. Letty suspected that it might rather be the devil finally come for Andrew's soul, doing a somewhat unconvincing impression of an angel of light. Her heart raced at the thought, and she fought back tears as she stood over the sink. For all of her brother's shortcomings and delusions, the idea that he might be eternally lost to her was unbearable, especially when placed next to the fact that their sister was also on the verge of being taken from them. The exhausted Letitia nearly fainted at the idea of being completely alone in the world, and on today of all days.

Today marked the fifth year since her dear Thomas had died. That awful day, she had been standing on the front porch watching him come up the street to call, flowers in hand and face radiant in an infectious smile the way it always seemed to be. He was less than two blocks away when, as she looked on, a horse came careening around the corner, eyes wide with terror and dragging a cart behind it. She was told later that the horse had been spooked by a gunshot, but she certainly hadn't heard anything.

The world seemed to slow to a crawl as she and others on the street screamed for Thomas to move out of the way. His smile faded in a moment of confusion, and by the time he turned his head to see what was the matter it was too late.

The horror and memory of the event had haunted her for weeks and months afterward. The sickening crunch of hooves landing heavily on his arms and back; the gasp of surprise and pain that ripped away one of his final precious breaths; the stench of the blood, urine, and manure coating them both as she cradled his broken body in her trembling hands; the acrid taste of bile in her throat when she realized he was gone; the fury she felt toward the gawkers crowding around, treating her anguish like a matinee. They all taunted her long after the devastating event had passed.

Of all people it had been Andrew who was kind enough to console her and speak grandly of the wonders awaiting us in the next life. ("Other life," he had called it, which upon reflection seemed odd as well.) She had thought Andrew such a blessing at the time, and for a moment she was tempted to smile as she remembered his seeming sincerity, wiping away her tears and tending to her needs. He had even clumsily sewn a small silk pouch for a lock of Thomas's hair that she kept near her heart as a keepsake. Andrew's apparent compassion had lulled her into lenience with his financial and ethical indiscretions, and Letty had indulged him more than she knew was good for him. But lately things had changed, and Andrew was no longer the gentle, attentive man she remembered from those days.

Now his days and nights were spent scheming, dreaming, and fiddling with things that were not his business. Nearly every waking moment he was locked away in his private study doing things she preferred not to imagine, taking animals up with him that never returned and often disappearing for days at a time. She was forbidden from going up there, which he insisted was only for her safety, but though she had no desire to look she could not help but think that part of the reason was also that seeing his experiments would drive away from her any notion of redemption that she still hoped of for her brother.

Today, though, had done that all on its own, without her having to trespass in Andrew's secret lair. The repulsive creature that he had brought back with him from only God knew where was proof enough for Letitia that Andrew was beyond her reach now. That thing that looked like a woman, called itself an empress, had the nerve to order Letitia around in her own home, and brutally tried to murder her on top of it all. It was all far too much.

Fortunately, for the time being, she was gone, off to terrorize the town with Andrew supplying the funds. Letty couldn't allow herself to think about whether she might ever see her brother again, for fear that she would suffer a breakdown imagining the terrifying possibilities. Having miraculously sustained no real injuries in the assault (which was a small miracle at her age), she had managed to get the house back in order after the demon had left, making sure that her sister and nephew had eaten and been taken care of. Digory seemed quite shaken, but fortunately Mabel had been kept away from the worst of the action, and Digory calmed significantly in the quiet hours since.

So now, as much as she was able, Letitia was trying to get back control of whatever she possibly could. At the moment that meant little besides tidying up the rest of the dishes, and she was rapidly running out of things to occupy herself with. The police had been called earlier, but apparently were too busy elsewhere and no one had yet arrived. She considered returning to the drawing room to finish mending a mattress she had been working on, but the earlier episode in that room had left rather a foul taste in her mouth, and she thought it might be quite some time before she was able to return to it without feeling her blood boil. Empress indeed! she thought, massaging her elbow, where she had landed quite firmly.

Finally, she put the last of the plates into the cupboard and headed toward the front room to check on her nephew. He wasn't there, but she quickly forgot about him when she heard, from outside, the unmistakable sound of hooves charging up the street toward the house,followed by a tremendous splintering crash. The sound triggered a reflexive panic in her, and she rushed to the window to see what was happening, unconsciously clutching the silk pouch of Thomas's hair in the pocket of her apron as she did so.

The scene at her front door was absolute bedlam. Jadis, the damnable woman, was being mobbed by a group of merchants and constables, her eyes flashing and arms upraised as though she were getting ready to curse them all to the depths of hell. Letty hoped desperately that that was not actually the case, and she looked anxiously around for any sign of Andrew. Finally she spotted him crawling out of the wreckage of a hansom cab which must have been the source of the crash earlier. He looked miserable but mostly unharmed. His clothing (his best clothing!) was in a frightful state and his hair would surely never be the same, but his limbs were all present and she couldn't see any blood.

She wanted very much to rush to his side, partly out of relief to see that he was all right and partly out of anger that he had caused such a commotion. Just then, though, the Empress Jadis wrenched a piece of a lamppost free with her bare hands, and started swinging it like a club. All thoughts of venturing out into the midst of it were entirely put to rest when Letitia saw the evil thing deliver a crushing blow to one constable, who crumpled to the cobbles as though he were made of paper.

Letty's heart pounded at the display of raw power. She knew then that her brother was in far deeper trouble than either of them had suspected, and if not for what happened next she might have succumbed to the instinct to defend her home and family by having at the intruder with whatever was handy. But before she could bring herself to act, the witch (for surely she must have been), along with Andrew, a horse, and possibly others just vanished into thin air. No warning, no sound, no flash of light. They were just gone. The witch had stolen her brother for real, and Letitia was not going to take it lying down.

She knew what she had to do, and if she were going to help she knew where she had to go.

In her frenzied state she did not hesitate to smash through the door or pause to consider what terrors she might encounter behind it. If she had she may have lost her courage, but instead Letty had flown up the stairs, seized a narrow but sturdy pedestal (carelessly toppling the vase it had been supporting), and plowed it straight into the latch leading to Andrew's forbidden study. The lock gave way with surprising ease and she stumbled into the dim room, tripping over the pedestal on her way.

As Letitia regained her balance and allowed her eyes to adjust to the pale light, she was struck by how plain the room seemed. There were no cauldrons or pentagrams, no ram's heads adorned the walls, and the floor was not littered with bones of any kind. Indeed there would not have been space for anything on the walls as every available space was occupied by shelves, which in turn were filled to overflowing with books. The dull remnants of a fire glowed faintly behind a tall armchair, casting long, thin shadows over the rest of the room. But even in the gloom she could see that it was no more frightening here than any other study she might find in the rest of the city, and she began to breathe a bit more easily.

Continuing slowly into the room, she became aware of an increasingly loud hum, which at first prompted her to return to the doorway in fear that something else was happening downstairs. When the noise lessened, however, she realized that it was coming from somewhere in the room itself, and she proceeded cautiously to investigate. Coming closer to a cluttered table near the armchair, she got her first glimpse of the box of rings. Gorgeous yellow and green rings that seemed to have a glow all their own. Owing nothing to the sad embers of the fire, the rings gleamed as if they were alive. The noise was clearly coming from them or from the box, as it was almost maddeningly loud by the time she was near enough to touch it.

Letitia again nearly gave in to her fear and fled the room at the thought of what such rings might do to her, but the rings were so beautiful and alluring that she found her hand moving toward them almost by itself. She was so entranced that she quite forgot her errand in storming the room in the first place. Instead all she could think about was holding and owning and wearing one of those rings. Steeling herself against whatever consequences she might face, Letitia plunged her hand into the box and took hold of the nearest ring. It was a lovely green jewel of a thing, and it illuminated her hand brilliantly. The smooth glassy surface slid effortlessly over her finger and she admired her newly adorned hand for what felt like ages, feeling a satisfaction that she had not enjoyed for years.

A crash downstairs brought her back to her senses, and she heard a constable's voice from the foyer calling her name. Hastily she took off the ring and scolded herself for being so childish. Tossing it back in the box with the others she turned to leave the room, but as she glanced over her shoulder for a last look at the dazzling green circlet she found she could not manage to pull herself away. What would the harm be in keeping one? she wondered. They seem safe enough, and they're not doing anyone any good up here. Without any further debate she grabbed the ring back and stuffed it into her pocket. Then, surprising herself even further with her boldness she reached out for another, a yellow one, to have a complete pair. As her fingers closed over it she felt a little jolt and gave a slight gasp, and Letitia Ketterley was gone.

Immediately she found herself immersed in water, and began to panic as she felt herself drowning. She thrashed wildly, kicking and flailing and trying to scream for help. Within a few seconds though, daylight streamed from above her in increasing strength and she felt herself rising quickly. She broke the surface with a gasp and sucked in air hungrily, though in reality she had only instinctively been holding her breath, not drowning at all.

Seeing that the pool of water she'd turned up in was only a few feet across, Letitia paddled to the edge and pulled herself up. She flopped down on the soft cushion of grass without even bothering to pull her feet completely out of the water. As she lay there panting, she was finally able to collect her thoughts enough to realize two things: she was not wet at all, and something awful had happened.

She sat up slowly and looked around. The air was thick and slow, a sort of oppressive peacefulness that she found hard to resist. For a few moments she could think of nothing except lying back down and shutting her eyes. She resisted though, looking instead at her surroundings. Golden light trickled lazily down through the solemn green leaves of the tallest trees she had ever seen, which made up the majority of the landscape. In between the trees, dotting the plush, fragrant grass, were dozens of small round pools, identical to the one she had just come out of. She could hear no animal sounds, no wind, no noise that would suggest that the city was anywhere near her. But even in the deep stillness, the wood felt alive. It was more alive than anything she had ever felt - she was overcome by the sensation of its pulse and steady breath, her senses muffled and her worries smothered as though she were in the womb of the forest. It was perfect.

But no - no it wasn't perfect. For there, leading away from the very spot she was sitting on she could see a series of hoofprints in the grass, the dark, rich, caramel-colored earth beneath disturbed by the shuffling gait of a weary animal looking for water. And indeed, the prints led directly to the next pool over and disappeared. She scrambled over to the pool and peered into the water, but there was nothing there. The water couldn't be more than a few inches deep, and there was clearly nowhere else around to be hiding an entire horse much less the humans (and the inhuman witch) who had vanished. Yet there were no other tracks and no sign that anything else around had been disturbed.

"Well," Letty said out loud, "I came here by a shallow pool. That makes as much sense as leaving by a shallow pool." (Afterward she felt sorry that she had spoken - it felt very much like whistling in a library or a church, and she had the sense that the forest disapproved.)

She gingerly followed the tracks into the glittering water, feeling more than a little silly as she did. She felt even sillier when nothing happened other than her shoes getting wet.

All at once the weight of the day came down on her on like an avalanche, and Letitia began to weep. Her brother was gone. Thomas was gone. Her sister was dying. Her nephew was likely alone with no one to look after him. And here she was, standing in some other dimension's wading pool, frightened out of her wits. Stalwart, constant Letty had never felt so helpless or alone in her life. As she put her hands to her face and sobbed, she felt the cold metallic kiss of the yellow ring, still on her finger.

Letitia screamed at the ring and ripped it off, hurling it away from herself as forcefully as she could. There was a distant plop as the ring landed in the water several pools away. She was furious for letting herself think she would be able to help Andrew, and for being distracted by the cursed rings and ending up in this predicament. She reached into her pocket to throw away the green ring as well, but as her fingers closed around it she felt the ground beneath her give way, and everything went dark again.

Letty felt as though she were flying, and it was not a pleasant sensation for her old body. It was as though she were riding atop a speeding train going through a tunnel. Just when she thought she could bear no more of the experience, she felt herself stop quite abruptly. She was standing on something solid but could see nothing, though after a moment she realized that was only because her eyes were tightly clenched shut.

Opening them slowly, Letty saw that she was again surrounded by trees, only they were very different than the ones in the wood she had just left. These trees were young and fresh looking, almost dainty but growing heartier by the instant. They were surrounded by shrubs, and the whisper of a breeze fluttered playfully through them. She could also hear the lilting hum of bees anxiously tending to the blooming flowers, and somewhere nearby the soft clamor of a stream gurgled in pleasant conversation. The light air was brimming with sweet, delicious smells, like being at a bakery, a florist's, and a confectioner's shop all at once.

The place she was in felt no less alive than the wood with the pools, but it was a much different, more vibrant kind of life. Where the other wood had been heavy with venerable, ancient tranquility that made one feel reflective and insignificant, this place was youthful and active, light and free. The air was bursting with clean, bright energy, not laden with the somber gravity of the old forest. That place had made Letty want to lie down and sleep; here she felt as though she could run through the trees and not tire for hours. It made her want to laugh and dance and play and sing, even though in London she had done none of those things in years.

Gradually she became aware of other sounds, voices, coming from somewhere nearby. She snapped out of her reverie (what a distracted day she was having!) and recalled that she was trying to rescue her brother from the horrid thing that had stolen him away. She kicked off her tired, uncomfortable shoes and took off at a light jog, marvelling at the way her old joints and muscles had been invigorated by the air and surroundings.

Coming up to a clearing in the trees, she slowed and hid herself behind the trunk of the widest beech she could find (and she could swear it was growing thicker with creaks and groans even as she stood by it). She peered around and gasped at what she saw: on the far edge of the clearing was Andrew, bedraggled and looking thoroughly miserable. He was being toyed with by a herd of wild animals, who were apparently in the process of burying him in dirt, though he was clearly still alive. An elephant - smaller than the ones she had seen at the circus but far more grand and dignified looking than those weary things - had just finished completely soaking him in water. If it hadn't sounded crazy, she might have thought that the animals were consulting with one another, and that their actions were deliberate, planned, and purposeful.

The elephant gave Andrew a tender pat on the head with its trunk, and backed away slowly, almost seeming reluctant to disturb him. A massive squirrel scampered up the elephant's legs and perched on its head, looking down at Letty's poor, defeated brother. Then, topping everything else that had happened to her on this, the most shocking day of her life, the squirrel opened its mouth and began to speak.

She could just barely hear what it was saying, but she strained her ears and was able to make out a few phrases. "...as much as we can do," the Squirrel was saying in a squeaky (and frankly ridiculous sounding) high-pitched voice. "If it's anything like that lamppost it'll be sprung up good as new in no time!"

"I wondered about that thing," said the Elephant in muddy, lumbering tones. "I spent a good bit of time snuffling around it earlier and it seems… unnatural."

The Squirrel chittered excitedly and got up on its back legs. "I heard all about it from the Horse!" it squeaked. "The one what grew them wings and took off with the little two-legged beasties? It said the Witch, which I think is the Neevil what Aslan told us about, tried chuckin' a bit of metal at the Lion before the rest of us got here, and that after it sank into the ground and sprouted up into that thing as what's over there now!"

The Elephant looked perplexed and thought for a moment, dragging the end of his trunk around his ears very much like a person scratching their head. "But…" he managed after a while, "what is it?"

"Beats me," replied the Squirrel. "I climbed all over it and it's cold and doesn't move and wouldn't answer me, but it's got a bit of flame inside the top bit. Strawberry, that Horse (or rather I supposed it's Fledge now), says they've got all sorts of metal trees just like it where he came from."

Letty stopped listening, and had turned a ghostly white. She turned away from the animals and leaned with her back against the tree, which by now was quite large enough to hide her from sight. The image of the horrible woman tearing the iron bar from the lamppost in front of her house was still fresh enough in her mind to send shivers down her spine, and having confirmation that the sorceress was indeed in this same world put Letitia on edge again. At the same time, though, she was filled with wonder at the idea of what the Squirrel had said. Could a full-sized (and already lit!) lamppost have just grown from the stub of the old one?

She needed to see it for herself. The whole atmosphere of this place, explosive with life, led her to believe that it must be true. But the animals clearly were unfamiliar with whatever they had seen, and she wanted to be sure.

Creeping as carefully and quietly as she could through the trees, Letty made her way around the outside of the clearing. After several minutes she was able to see around the other side of a large grouping of animals who all seemed to be chatting like friends at a party. There, in the center of a cluster of stately-looking Dogs, was the lamppost. It was shocking in its familiarity, at once completely out of place yet apparently quite at home, looking as though it had been there forever. It was an exact copy of the one Letty had seen outside her front door every day, except that it was coming straight out of the grass and showed no sign of having been installed there. It really looked as though it had simply... grown.

Letty again leaned her back against a tree, out of sight, as she tried to catch her breath and understand what she was seeing. With a gasp, she recalled a conversation with her housemaid earlier in the day regarding her sister Mabel's condition. This is it! she thought, her mind reeling. This is the Land of Youth! Where animals talk and trees grow right before your eyes and metal sprouts from the earth like a vine! It's no wonder I feel twenty years younger here!

Her hands clasped over her heart, she began to think of a plan, a way that she might be able to get home and bring her sister back here while rescuing Andrew in the process. Thrilled by the idea of what this place could do for her poor sister, Letty carefully began to make her way back to the other edge of the wooded area where she first arrived. It was easier to think away from the distraction of all the animals, and she wanted to check in on Andrew to make sure he was still relatively safe.

As it turned out, Andrew was much in the same condition he had been the last time she saw him. No better, but certainly no worse. She decided there was nothing she could do for him until she returned (he was still surrounded by animals, after all). She idly crept back into the woods to the place she had appeared earlier. Since the rings had been her primary mode of transportation so far, much of her plan hinged on being able to get back, retrieve another set of them, and get to her sister in order to bring them both back together.

Then, in sudden terror, she remembered that she no longer had both of her rings. She had flung the yellow one in her frustration and fury, back in the Old Wood. She vaguely remembered hearing it splash into one of the pools that littered that place, and since the green ring was still firmly around her finger she realized that it was not going to be able to get her anywhere. In a panic, she frantically searched her pockets, her sleeves, her stockings - anywhere that might have been hiding the yellow ring, just in case what had happened in the Old Wood had been a dream. Letitia felt the tears start to come again as she tore through the folds of her apron and-

She stopped.

Slowly, gently, Letty drew out the silk pouch. Everything else faded around her as she stared at it. For several moments she was silent and still. She didn't breathe; she barely even thought. Only a single word echoed through her mind.

Thomas.

As though its threads were made of glass, Letitia undid the ties sealing the pouch's opening. Then, kneeling to the soft, pillowy ground, she dug a small hole with her hands. The rich soil worked readily and easily. Not daring to pause, not wanting to consider what she was doing, Letty quickly emptied the pouch into the hole and covered the hole up again with dirt.

She shoved the pouch back into her pocket as she scrambled away from her strange garden, suddenly gripped with terror at what she had done. She looked around frantically for a stick or a rock to dig it back up, afraid to touch it again. There was nothing close by, and her efforts to rip a small branch from one of the trees as the Witch had done to the lamppost were not nearly as successful. Then all other thoughts escaped her as she glanced back at the spot in the ground to see that something was happening.

A small mound had formed where she had buried the lock of Thomas's hair. It grew steadily as she watched, the earth blistering noiselessly, becoming taller and wider until it was almost as high as she herself. She backed away, out of her mind with fear, and tripped over the base of a tree. Sprawling on her backside, Letty let out a soft sigh of pain and surprise, then quickly covered her mouth again as the mound broke open.

A hand, ragged and grey, tipped with dingy yellow nails, reached through the breach and gripped the outside of the quivering pile of earth. Another followed it immediately, and they began to pull at opposite ends of the growing crevice. Within moments a head emerged, scraggly brown hair drooping listlessly all around a pocked and sallow scalp. Enormous eyes peered intensely through the thin veil of hair, the skin around them shriveled and dry and pulled away from the sockets. From the gaping mouth, betraying a severe lack of teeth but oozing a reddish-black substance, came a wordless howl that chilled Letty right to her very core.

As more and more of the creature was revealed she could see the disastrous extent of her impulsive error. As the piece of the lamppost had, upon being planted, immediately matured to match the current state of its donor body, so Letitia's grisly seed had flowered in a condition that mirrored that of its source. She could see, beneath the tattered remains of clothing, places where the flesh had been entirely eaten away. Bones protruded, muscles and sinews dangled, and yet, impossibly, onward it came.

She wanted to get up and run but felt frozen in place, unable to take her eyes off of the nightmare being birthed in front of her. Its eyes were locked with hers, and she knew they recognized her as she did them; there was no doubt that they were Thomas's eyes. What was worse, the eyes (to the extent that they could show any expression in their sunken, decayed housing), seemed to cry out in agony, their tortured plea joining in a hellish harmony with the desperate groaning that once again tore its way from Thomas's throat.

It was lurching forward now, having completely freed itself from its earthen womb. Arms outstretched, it reached for her as she curled into a ball on the ground, steeling herself against its ghastly mockery of her lover's embrace.

All at once there was a blinding flash of golden light, and a thunderous roar seemed to make the air itself ripple. The ground shook as an enormous form landed next to her, and Letitia looked up to see a great, fearsome Lion baring its teeth at the hideous creature. The deathly apparition barely had time to turn its gaze from Letty before the Lion opened its massive jaws and swallowed the thing whole.

A broken, terrified, and thoroughly spent Letitia reeled back and flopped down flat on the ground. She was completely exhausted, and any remaining strength leaked out of her as she lay in the cool grass. Letty no longer cared what happened to her. Everything had gone wrong in every possible way; Andrew was a captive, Mabel was still dying (alone now), and her attempts to restore Thomas had only tortured him further and ended with his humiliating demise in the belly of a wild animal.

And now she was going to meet that same demise. At least we'll be together again, she thought bitterly as tears began to pour down her face and her body shook with heaving sobs. She waited for the Lion to gobble her up, but for a full minute there was nothing but a silent stillness in the wood as Letitia cried. Finally, reluctantly, she opened one eye, then quickly shut it again as she saw the Lion's giant head coming down toward her face.

There was no pain, though. No biting, no gnawing. All she felt was a soft wetness on her cheek and the tickle of long, spindly whiskers. She opened her eyes again and saw that the Lion had laid down beside her and, rather than devouring her, was merely nuzzling her face gently. She could feel the warmth of its breath and the silkiness of its fur, and all around her was a deliciously wonderful smell, like freshly baked bread dripping with honey. It's almost as though it's trying to comfort me! she thought, sniffling loudly. The Lion's behavior baffled her, but the intimacy of the gesture was so inviting that she could not resist the urge to bury her face in its mane and wrap her arms around its huge neck.

She resumed crying and did not stop for several minutes, when she felt a growing dampness on her arms. She pulled back and was shocked to see great, shimmering tears rolling down from the Lion's eyes. She blinked, and hastily wiped her face as she rose to her feet and backed away. "Are you… crying?" she asked timidly. The Lion stood slowly as well, regarding her calmly. "It's awfully kind of you," she said, feeling silly again. "It's been such a strange day, I don't see how this should be any different." Then, remembering what had happened, she added. "Thank you for… for rescuing me just then."

Finally the Lion spoke, and when he did Letty could feel the ground vibrate with the deep rumble of his voice. "Daughter of Eve," he said, "why are you here?"

Letty hesitated. "Well, begging your pardon, sir, as I'm not quite sure who Eve is, and I believe you may have mistaken me for someone I'm not, but… I don't know exactly where 'here' is."

"You are in the land of Narnia," answered the Lion, gesturing broadly with his huge head.

"I'm afraid that doesn't help me much," she answered sheepishly. "But I got here by falling up through a pool after putting on one of my brother's rings, and I had thought to rescue him from that horrible woman after she made off with him, and then I thought perhaps I could help my sister while I were here - she's dying, you see - because I thought this place might have been the Land of Youth, and then that got me thinking about Thomas, and I acted recklessly and, well you saw how that turned out, and… and…"

By the time she finished her speech Letitia was quite flustered and red, and was on the verge of bursting into tears once again. But just then the Lion let out a low growl, very deep in his throat. It wasn't a frightening growl, not exactly. But Letty took it as a sign that she was not giving the answer it had expected, and she closed her mouth abruptly, and waited.

"Daughter of Eve, the mother of all your kind," he began again, "that is indeed how you came here and what you have done since." His unblinking eyes never wavered from hers, though she couldn't stand to look directly at him for very long, so intense was his gaze. "But why," he repeated slowly, "are you here?"

Letty thought carefully for a moment. "I suppose," she admitted reluctantly, "that I wanted to get back at the witch - that is, the woman Andrew brought home - for coming into my house and hurting me and stealing my brother away." She stopped again for a moment, but he seemed to know anyway so she decided she might as well plow on. "Actually, I broke into Andrew's study hoping to find a way to follow them as well as a way to stop her bothering us anymore, if you know what I mean, uh, sir."

The Lion's face seemed to soften a bit, and Letty stopped trembling just a little. "That was a very brave, and very foolish thing to do," he said. "But you would do well to watch your temper, Letitia, lest it get you into more situations like the ones you have faced today."

"Yes, sir," Letty replied, embarrassed. "Thank you again, Mr., er, Mr. Lion, sir."

"My name is Aslan," he replied. It was not unkind, but she still somehow got the feeling she should have known his name, though she was not sure how. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure how he knew her name either. Regardless, since it didn't seem likely that he was going to eat her anytime soon, she felt confident enough to ask another question.

"Aslan, sir? That… thing that you… I mean, um. The… when you got here, and you roared, and the thing was coming at me…"

Aslan growled low in his throat a bit. But she didn't feel threatened; it was more of a prod than a warning. She continued.

"Only… was that really him? Thomas, I mean." Her tears began to return as she remembered the horror of seeing him that way. "It seemed to be in so much pain, and I just… I couldn't bear to think that I had done that to him." Her shoulders shook and she hid her face in her hands, not wanting very much to hear his answer for fear that it would weigh on her the rest of her life.

"My child," he answered gently, almost whispering, "what you saw was never intended to be. It would not do for you to think on it too much."

"But the lamppost!" she sputtered. "I heard a Squirrel say that it sprouted up from the ground, and it looked exactly like the one outside my house! I know it was foolish, but I thought maybe…" she trailed off into more tears.

"When the new lamppost grew," said Aslan, padding softly closer to her, "it did not replace or transport the old one. It was merely a copy, and the first lamppost is still unchanged, lighting your front door. Thomas, too, is unchanged, and it is not in the magic of this place to bring him back to your world or into this one. The soil of this world is, right now, charged up with the song I sang to bring it into existence, but it will not always be that way; as we speak it is fading, and what would happen now if the Witch threw her iron bar is already not what happened then."

"I see," said Letty, no longer trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to drown out her words. "It's just that I thought maybe I had come here so that I could fix what happened to him, and that I'd have a bit more time with him. I know I'll see him in the next life, I just miss him so much!"

"Dear heart," whispered the Lion, his voice strained with sorrow and his eyes glistening with tears. He nuzzled her cheek again with his cool, wet nose. "I am this life, and I am the next life. I know that Thomas seems unreachable now, but before he died I knew him well, and I know him still. If you know me too, then you will see him again."

Letitia sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid I don't understand," she said.

Aslan's eyes sparkled, and the edges of his mouth curved in a way that she might have believed was a smile, if he were human. "Don't worry," he said mysteriously, "I'll teach you everything you need to know. Just look for me and I will not be far."

Letitia was more confused than ever, and began to protest before she was cut off by Aslan's voice, growing steadily louder.

"But where- "

"And now," he growled, "I think it is time to get you back home!" By the time he finished speaking his voice was like thunder, and the last word was swallowed up in a tremendous roar that shook Letitia to her bones. She clenched her eyes shut against the blast of his hot breath, and when she opened them again she nearly tripped down her stairs in surprise, for she was once again standing in the hallway of her house, just outside Andrew's study.

"My goodness!" Letty exclaimed. "That'll teach me never to touch his things again, that's for sure!"

Just then she heard the constable's voice calling up from the doorway again. "I don't believe any time has actually passed," she said to herself, amazed. As she collected herself and started downstairs, she wondered if any of it had actually happened. Looking down, however, she saw that her dress was thoroughly painted with drying mud and clumps of dirt, and she could still smell the lingering scent of Aslan's mane in the air around her.

With a smile, she greeted the constable and asked what she could do to help. "Well 'ave you seen wot's been 'app'nin' out 'ere, mum?" he asked incredulously. "One o' my men is on 'is way to the 'ospital, he 'is, an' I don' know wot's 'appened t' the giant lady wot was causin' all the ruckus, as she seems to 'ave up an' disappeared, but when I find 'er she's got some explainin' t' do!"

Letitia spotted, through the crack of the open door, Andrew, Digory, and Polly as they approached the house from the street. Andrew looked miserably exhausted but whole, and the children were practically glowing; her nephew looked in better spirits than he had the whole time he'd been in London.

"Yes, of course," she said distractedly to the constable. "That all sounds fine." The constable's shocked expression went entirely unnoticed as Letitia pushed past him and went to give her brother a hug.