Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me.
~ The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
Edmund leaned closer to his computer screen, the static electricity summoning his hair. The light had been turned down and Lucy was drumming her fingers from across the desk.
"Stop doing that," Edmund said distractedly, his mouse clicking.
"What news?" Lucy snapped.
"The internet is almost completely down, but I've finally found a server in Ettinsmoor." Edmund sighed, leaning back.
"Any new reports?" Lucy asked quickly.
Edmund shrugged. "It seems like the western border has been overrun, but we can't verify that. No word yet from King Lune. Did you try calling him?"
"The phone lines have been cut, I can't get through. I've sent out a bat."
"Where's Peter?"
"He's been contacting me from flying horse, but I haven't heard from him for fifteen minutes."
Edmund's hands were shaking. These reports were flooding in like a surge of black water; the dams had been breached, the walls broken. It seemed that all was about to be lost.
"But do we know yet who is doing this?" Lucy's voice broke through his consciousness.
"It seems like the Calormens, the Telmarines, the Seven Isles and the Giants of the North are attacking all at once. It's the biggest invasion we've yet seen."
Lucy's face was very pale. "This is very bad."
"What's that?" Edmund jerked up as a commotion in the hallway echoed through the closed door. The next moment, the door burst open and two young ladies came charging in, carrying sound equipment and cameras and very out of breath.
"You majesties!" one of them gasped, narrowly avoiding braining Edmund with a wooly microphone on a boom. "Can we have an interview? I'm Psyche."
Rose, the other young lady, was quickly putting a shorter lens on her dSLR. A moment later, she was snapping pictures of the dazed royals.
"This is a case of national importance!" Edmund exclaimed, rising to his full height, slightly blinded by the external flash on Rose's camera, "We don't have time for an interview!"
"Can we stay and watch?" Psyche asked nosily. Edmund's hand stole to his sword hilt, but Lucy stiffened and jerked forward. Their heads bumped as they dove towards the computer.
"It's a report from Ettinsmoor," Edmund gasped. "From a highlander named Alisdair."
"He says the frontier forts are falling one by one. The border wall has been breached." Lucy breathed, her face paling.
"What does he mean by 'wee Eddy'?" Edmund demanded suddenly. "It's addressed to 'wee Eddy'. What is he going on about?"
"I think he's referring to you," Lucy said. "He calls me the 'blithe Lassie', that's worse."
"Eddy!" Edmund gasped. "My name is not Eddy!"
"Your majesty," Psyche said, pulling out a notepad. "Can we have a statement on this event? Am I correct that the frontier forts are falling?"
"Where is Peter?" Edmund asked standing up and brushing past both reporters. "He needs to know about this. Have we contacted him?"
"I've been trying to get through to him," Lucy exclaimed. "I'm afraid his flying horse might have been shot down!"
The room was strangely silent but for the quick sound of Edmund's fingers on the keyboard. Light streamed merrily through the high window as Lucy stood up and swept back the curtain. On the castle walls below her animals were rushing every which way. The row of canons on the half moon battery were being loaded and eagles were dashing about with important messages.
"I've just gotten a text from King Lune."
Lucy spun around; Edmund's voice was ominously low as he looked down at his Purple Paisley Pattern iPhone. "What?"
"Cair Anvard has fallen."
A cold hand gripped at her heart and she turned and groped blindly for the edge of the table. Rose, the photographer, had her by the elbow and eased her into a chair. "Do you need a glass of water?"
"Spiced wine would be nice," Lucy managed to gasp.
Psyche was standing closest to the decanter and a moment later she had poured the queen a tumbler full. "Your majesty."
Lucy took the glass, then looked up as the door opened for the second time. Lord Peridan stepped into the room, his face white.
"Your Majesties," he said bowing. "I've just received a report from your royal brother, Peter."
"Then he's all right," Lucy breathed.
"He says you must prepare for the worst. In half an hour, Cair Paravel will be besieged by four armies."
Silence echoed like a drum roll and Edmund closed his eyes.
"By the way," Lucy said suddenly. "Where's Susan?"
To be continued…