A/N: You asked for it, so here it is, the Old Sins Cast Long Shadows sequel, Starless Eyes. I promise to pace myself this time, okay guys?

BTW, slight time change. Cleo is now in Edmund's time (1940-45's) and not in 2010.

Read on...


Cleo's POV

Memories. Defined as things you can remember that happened to you. The dictionary never really mentions if that counts for dreams too. I'm certain that Narnia was a dream, but then again if I am certain, why do I find that my thoughts are not unquestionably correct?

'Cleo?'

An instant smile forms on my scarlet lips after my body does a full 90 degree spin and my pebble-black eyes gaze into the chestnut eyes of Edmund Pevensie, who squeezes me like a lost toy until I'm left gasping for air but it doesn't bother me much. You see, that's the thing about memories. I can't pinpoint in my mind whether his eyes were dark hazelnut or chestnut, however it must mean a lot because it's an irritating thought that is nagging at my brain.

'What happened to you?' he asks me as he releases my body from his arms.

'I honestly don't know,' I answer him truthfully with a sniff. 'When I entered Narnia, I was startled by the fireworks in the sky, and when I went riding with Lucy and Peter I was suddenly back to the fireworks again. I never wanted to go back home again, you've got to believe me!'

'I do,' he replies, giving me a side-ways sympathetic look as my sad eyes shift slowly to the floor. 'I do.'

He leans in, slips his hand behind my neck and kisses me delicately as if he's afraid he'll shatter me to pieces. You'll expect me to be delighted by the first touch by Edmund I've had in a year but I'm not. I'm not angry, I'm sad, I'm not elated – I feel nothing. Because it's not real.


It's never real.

My eyes flutter open like midnight moths and watch the shadows of the dawn creep across my wall from the outside of my bedroom window. My dream is drifting away from me like an attempt to hold water, and although I don't remember what happened, Edmund's face is still strong in my mind. I reach into my bedside drawer and pull out a slim notebook that is attached a threading cord with a pen tied to the end. Flipping it open for the millionth time this week, I scribble down the name: Edmund, and then wedge it back into the drawer and slam it shut. I've been crying and dreaming about Edmund so much that I've decided to keep tabs on myself. I've filled five pages so far.

'Cleo?' my mother calls loudly from downstairs. 'Cleo, Wendy is here! Time to go.'

My mum... she's been a bit worried about me since I was transported back here. Apparently I've been a bit more..."distant" than usual, so "since I didn't even like living in Bush Hill Park anyway" we're going to go live with Aunt Wendy in Finchley, mum's sister-in-law/best friend until we can find a house that's on sale. She thinks that a change of environment will help me get back on my feet again. Whatever that means.

I dress myself in black tights and a white dress with matching shoes, and I make my way downstairs where Mum's wrestling with two large suitcases containing mostly crimson lipstick and fancy dresses. There's no point in asking her to unload a little; she'll only snap at me and defend her glamorous luxuries to the end if she has to. I pluck one from her grasp and carry it to the car including the help of Aunt Wendy who immediately opens the boot.

'Are you okay, ol' girl?' she whispers, rubbing my back comfortingly.

'Fine.' I groan, putting the luggage in the car's compartment with my hair whipping 'round my head like a glass of red wine splashing out from its cup.

'It seems to me that the sparkle has left your eyes, my dear.' Wendy points out. 'Are you sure that everything is right in your world at the moment?'

'I said, "I'm fine."'

She isn't convinced but I don't care. She mutters a few words under her breath and then gets into the driver's seat with my mother beside her and my brother beside me as I slide in the back (which smells subtly of a fragrance of some sort, if I might add). Logan inherits his blond hair from our father and presents that by carrying about a picture of him wearing his army suit in his pocket all the time. He says that he has it "because Dad always said to him that he'll always be in his heart whenever he was away. That wasn't good enough for him though. He needed something he could touch, something he could feel." So he asked father for one of his army photographs, and he's kept it ever since. Logan and Dad... they're close, you know. However I don't think that he's too keen on me at the moment, seeing as the stare he's giving me could frighten away a tiger.

'What?' I ask innocently.

'You are so selfish, do you know that?' he retorts. 'We're moving because of you. Moving! And to Finchley too.'

'What's wrong with Finchley?' Aunt Wendy enquires. You've got to be careful with answering questions from Aunt Wendy; she can be tricky and trip you up in your words.

'Nothing.' Logan grumbles.

'Good.'

There's a silence as Wendy pulls out of the drive and drives down the Angeles Avenue whilst whistling to the tune of In the Mood by Glenn Miller. I love this song, although I won't dance along to it – partly because Logan is still giving me a dirty look – but also because these days, I just don't feel like it.

'Logan,' I say desperately. 'I didn't want to move! This was all Mum's idea. I really, really wanted to stay at home, believe me. I still need to check if I can go back to Narnia through Larsson Wood, so that I can find the lamppost again. Or maybe I just need to find Cair Paravel... what does it matter? I just want to find Ed—'

The words are lodged in my throat and my eyes stare off into the distance as Edmund's face comes to mind again.

'What the hell are you talking about, you twit?' Logan hisses. Mum turns round as her curls become a messy bunch of hair rather than a neat bob like before.

'Logan!' she barks. 'Don't be so rude to your sister. The move probably won't be that long anyway, so shut up.'

Mindboggling. Absolutely mindboggling how I just blabbered on and on about Narnia and Cair Paravel without a second thought. I'm beginning to confuse people. But I can't keep quiet forever; I refuse to be shut up like a telescope.


'Do you have your blazer, Cleo?' Mum fusses. I nod hurriedly and begin to run out the door to catch up with Logan who is fast-walking so quickly that I have trouble keeping up with the guy ('I just want to get it over and done with,' he said this morning).

'Don't do anything I wouldn't do!' she calls after us. We're going to be new students at St Finbar's and Hendon House (which are right across the road from each other) and we have to take a rattling train to get there.

The train station is literally metres away from Aunt Mary's house so within seconds we are emerging into the bustling underground with lights too dim and too dark to even be recognised as lights, as crowds of children push past us like a river current ever flowing with swift fish always going places and everlastingly pulling faces as busy parents pull them on trains to go to school. Logan has some old friends down here in Finchley, so he goes over to meets them with open arms. I take my seat on a bench against the wall and stare into space and daydream for a while as a train races by and squeaks to a halt but it's not journey.

'Fight! Fight! Fight!'

The current of children become a cluster who all group together around a battle of foolish boys who dare to attempt to punch and scuffle with each other in a railway. What nonsense. A sharp whistle pierces the bubble of noise and releases quietness and a scramble of running feet as the kids separate away from each other while a Home Guard comes plodding along to break it up. They're such idiots – why would you have a fight in the underground? No wonder we have accidents down here.

'Ouch!'

What was that? I glance to my left and I see a little girl with pigtails stand up at the same time as her siblings as the ground begins to shake from beneath me. I feel a slight pain pinch my skin on my back and I find that I too stand up. Tiles on the ceiling begin to crumble and billboards in the walls begin to tear away and disappear down the railways mouth. Fearfully, I stare back at the children who were standing near the bench. I peer closely at the second boy on the end who holding hands with his sister. He looks strangely familiar...

The noise becomes louder and I wonder why the other people haven't noticed that the station is beginning to vanish. But then I notice that they're beginning to vanish too. I still can't think where I've seen that boy before... wait a minute... is that...?

'Edmund!'

I trip as the room gives its last tremble but I'm somewhere different. I'm in a forest. I'm in the forest. I whirl round like a spinning top toy to see if Edmund made it here too.

'No,' I rasp. 'No, no, that's not fair!'


A/N: I hope you like the first chapter. Please review and tell me what you think.