Chapter Two: Curiosity Fileted
They stood with blades drawn against an unknown enemy surging toward them through the trees. Suddenly, the bushes before them trembled something terrible, and the two faced it, swords raised, prepared to fight whatever might jump out at them. What they were not prepared for was a fox, which leapt out to meet them, sniffing curiously. "Why, it's a fox," the lass announced. "How do you do?"
"Amy, you do realize you are talking to a fox," James informed her.
"Do you speak?" she asked it. It cocked its head, looking up at her with a foxy grin as it panted. "No answer."
"You say this as though you were expecting one."
"I was. We have just found another manifestation. Come along." And she proceeded to walk calmly away from the beast.
"What—Amy, what are you—?"
"Walk. Now."
"Amy, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded as he caught up with her.
"If we want to find out which emotion it is, I suggest we find out how it will react—don't look over your shoulder, soldier."
He snapped his head to face front. "And just how, may I ask, do you know it is Jack?"
"Oh, come on. A fox that doesn't talk?"
"As opposed to one that does?" he countered.
"In Narnia? All the animals talk in Narnia. One that does not is an oddity. We are looking for oddities, are we not?" She stopped walking and suddenly whirled around to find that the fox had been following them. "Seems to trust us without knowing us. If that isn't a telltale sign, then I don't know what is." She set down her pack and weapons and leaned against the lamp post. "We should probably rest now. It's the middle of the night. It might be warmer by morning, but let's get a fire going. Wh–hey!" The fox had been sniffing and batting at the points of her arrows. She swatted him away and swiped the quiver out of reach. "Curiosity already killed the cat and salted the snail. Do you want it to filet the fox, too?" She scratched his head playfully. "Wait... curiosity. You're Jack's Curiosity, aren't you?"
"A fox for Cutiosity. Rather fitting, I might suppose. Er...pet...there are bound to be more foxes in Narnia than just this one. How will we know which he is?"
The little canine, who had since stuck his head inside the girl's pack, now pulled out a strip of reddish leather. "Clever little beastie," she chuckled, buckling it around his neck to act as a collar.
"Although I daresay that this one seems cleverer than is usual."
"Hmm," she nodded. "Then Cleverness, too. Jack is an awful clever fellow, inne. Clever as a fox."
James got a fire going, and they sat around it. "Shall we leave in the morning, then?"
"And without a chance to explore?"
"Well in case you haven't noticed, we're on a short time constraint. We need to get the fox back to Jack, and we need to hurry before the men in black discover we are here, or before this realm begins to tilt toward others."
"All the time we shall ever spend here will add up to be only a moment outside of here." James looked at her sternly—a look that had all the more effect on the magnificent lion's face he now wore. "Can't we at least stay one day?"
He glared at her thoughtfully, before sighing frustratedly. "One. One day." She grinned victoriously, and he struggled not to join in. "But then it's back home."
"Deal." They shook on it—after which the lass exclaimed at his paws and compared them in size to her tiny hands. At length, the three of them curled up for the night, in a cozy ball in one another's arms for added warmth, and slept peacefully and without disturbance until dawn—although dear James had kept himself up half the night, warily on the lookout for danger.
The next morning, they were up in a snap, promptly (and thoroughly, mind you) dousing the fire and collecting their belongings. Making sure that Curiosity was still with them—which he was, loyal chap—they set off to explore. Naturally, the girl nudged their expedition east, toward the Great River and the Rock Bridge, in the hopes that they might soon meet the meadows of the camp waiting by the Stone Table.
They strode through the wood, taking note of how some trees were beginning to blossom, and the icicles were quickly shrinking. "Winter is almost over, isn't it?" James asked thoughtfully.
"Yes. The presence of the human children has brought hope to Narnia, and that is beginning to weaken the witch's power."
"You're beginning to talk like a Narnian, aren't you?"
"What?—Don't be absurd!"
He laughed heartily. "Absurd? Don't think I have ever heard that from you before. And 'the presence of the human children'? You speak of them as though they are a different species than you."
"But they are—."
"Yes, yes, but I mean as though you've never been human."
"I'm just narrating, here!"
"Whatever you say, pet." They set up in a small clearing, where most of the snow had melted away and much of the area was lush and green. Lunch was prepared—just some fruit and fish caught in a stream they had crossed earlier—and they tucked in. "But you know," he said thoughtfully, cooking the pavenders, "even with the winter nearing an end, we have seen a rather small semblance of inhabitants, haven't we? I mean, aside from these trees and our fox, the only other life we have met were these fish." He paused to tear a chunk off the filet of one of the raw fish with his teeth.
"Er...you know you haven't cooked that yet, right?"
He gave her a please-don't-laugh-at-me smile. "I know. I've preferred raw fish to cooked for years—since I became captain of the Dauntless, I suppose. I'm not entirely certain why, but it probably has something to do with that time I was stranded without provision." His eyes grew distant for a moment. "But that was a long, long time ago."
They ate in silence for a few moments. "Tell me about it," she said after a while. "Will you? I'd like to hear it."
He stared at her with a contemplating expression for several moments. "As you might have figured, I was still a lieutenant. First Leftenant to Captain Robert Greenleaf on the schooner HMS Fortitude. We were on our way back to Port Royal when a storm struck us. A violent, deadly tempest that tossed us around like a plaything." And so he drew her into his memory, their minds and imaginations linking, as he told a story of how he had been shipwrecked and stranded on a tiny island, having to make due with roots and plants and raw fish, because there was no dry wood to make a fire. "...'The crew—and Theodore, especially—seemed very enthusiastic to have me among them. Do you have any fish? Preferably raw?' The captain looked at me like I had grown another head," he finished with a chuckle. The memory faded.
"Wow," was the girl's awed response. "So how was the ride home? Smooth sailing?"
"The sailing was smooth. The cat' was not." She raised an eyebrow quizzically. "For disobeying him and scaring him so badly, the captain made sure I received a sound lashing; with the cat o' nine tails."
"Ouch! That's crazy!"
"Insubordination, love. It merits punishment in the Navy."
They returned to their neglected lunches. "That was a great story. You could have been a bard in another life."
James laughed. "That's likely! I'm no weaver of tales, believe me." He was about to continue, then hesitated. "Do you know what I just noticed when reliving that time?"
"What's that?"
"Even on a minuscule, one-hectare island, there was still more wildlife than there is here."
It was as he was finishing this statement that there was a snarl nearby. They both leapt to their feet and listened, before stalking to the bushes and looking through. A handful of huge gray wolves were sniffing desperately around the woods not far off. "We've lost the scent," one said to the wolf in the lead.
"The witch won't tolerate slackers," Maugrim growled. "Find him, or you'll take his punishment instead."
"Who are they looking for?" James whispered to the lass.
"A fox who helped the four kids I was telling you about. Wait—no!" Curiosity was sniffing curiously at the wolves, and on a curious impulse, had stepped through the bushes toward the lupines. "Get back here," she hissed.
The fox turned to look at her pleadingly—but the wolves had already noticed him. The fox, realizing the danger, sprinted back to hide between her legs, and the wolves gave chase, leaping into the clearing. They circled the trio, teeth bared. "Retrieve the fox," Maugrim ordered. "Bring him to the Witch. He's the one who led us astray." Another wolf snatched up the fox—who yelped in alarm—and immediately dashed off.
"What—wait! That's the wrong fox! The one you're looking for is rallying troops for Aslan by the Western Wood," Ames cried. "This one cannot even talk."
"Then regardless, he is not an ally of the Witch. We'll see what she decides. As for you, sprite, you would do well to join your kindred in the Witch's army. You are late for preparations."
"And you are wasting time talking to us," James cut in. Several of the wolves withdrew at the sight of him, tails curling between their legs. "That fox is with us, and we'll have him back."
"Keep out of this, stranger," Maugrim snapped with a snarl. "Unless you want to be taken in as well." He barked to his pack and they took off into the trees.
Silence fell for a few moments. "Well are you happy now?" Ames snapped. "There's your wildlife."
"This is your fault."
"Mine!"
"If we had just left when I suggested instead of playing around here, the fox's life would not be threatened. Do you have any idea how this could affect Jack?"
"Oh don't go blaming me—You're the one who agreed to let us stay."
"Not like I had any choice. You're the only one who can take us back anyway."
"I would have taken us back if you had insisted!"
"Enough. As much as I would love to continue this argument, now is not the time." He sighed in self retribution. "Here we are, a pair of skilled fighters, and we did nothing."
"We were outnumbered five-to-one. There was nothing we could do."
"There were only six—."
"And you know you would have had to fight five of them. As far as I'm concerned, I can only take on one opponent at a time."
James sighed frustratedly. "Well, 'sprite', what do we do now? We need to get him back."
"We've got one hope now." She turned to face the Eastern Sea, sparkling on the horizon. "Aslan."
For the next few days, they trekked across the land. They traversed through woods and meadows, the land growing greener and greener. They scaled the Rock Bridge, and paused to look out over Narnia. Looking back, they could see the Western Wood, whence they came; a shadow on the horizon. Looking ahead to the east, they could see the castle Cair Paravel and the Eastern Sea, near their destination.
The thunder of the falls on the Great River, now no longer frozen, grew near, and they emerged into a small clearing overlooking said falls. James padded forward on all fours (as he did on occasion, for it felt just as natural to move as such) and leaned over the edge to watch the river. "I'm sorry, my friend," his ear flicked back as the sprite spoke, and he turned to see her standing beside a stone fox, her hand on his head. "Your efforts were not in vain. Help will come soon." He moved back to crouch beside her, tail curling around him. "He's the other fox—the one who helped the Pevensies, and who Maugrim and his wolves were really after."
"And you say that he will yet survive?" Returning a person from stone seemed to lie beyond possibility.
"Aslan will save him."
"You keep saying that. Aslan is just a lion, isn't he?" It was an innocent enough question, so she pursed her lips against a curt reply.
"You won't think that when you meet him."
His ears perked at this, but he continued to stare at the fox. After a long, thoughtful silence, he asked, "Where now?"
"We need to cross the river, and then we can follow it for a while before it turns south."
"All right, but how are we to cross?"
Shrug. "We could always try swimming."
"But you're a terrible swimmer."
"But you aren't. I can brace myself against you if I have to. Look, the river's really not that wide, and I can't be very heavy."
"All right. It is also pretty shallow—or so I take it to be; it appears so. The current is fast, though, and the water cold, so be ready." They scaled the cliffs down to the rocky bank—the lass needed some help since many of the boulders were bigger than she was. "All right, ready? Jump!" They plunged into the water, still icy cold. James surged toward the surface, grasping her arm and hauling her up with him. "Come on!" he roared over the roar. He struck out for the bank, and could have made it in a matter of moments had the sprite's smaller strokes not hindered him. She was holding her own against the current—in fact, she was working with it, swimming at an angle so that it propelled her toward the shore.
They did not anticipate the deep trench and dangerous undertow that ran down the river's middle. When they reached it, the deadly current took hold of the girl's tiny, light form, and she was pulled under with a yell of surprise. "Amy!" James dove under, but the water was so stirred up that he couldn't see a thing.
He struggled back to the surface, fighting the undertow, looking frantically down river for any sign of her; but she was nowhere to be seen. He was about to swim after her when she shouted, "James, I'm over here!"
He looked to see her standing on the shore not far down river, jumping and waving her arms. Breathing a sigh of relief, he struck out toward her, and soon was shaking the water from his fur on the bank, impulsively licking his paws and drying his face with them. (And after realizing he was doing this, he embarrassedly dropped his hands to his sides.) "Are you all right?"
She coughed a few times. "I'll be fine. I've just got water up my nose." They smiled at one another in relief and reassurance. She looked forward. "On the bright side, we won't be needing our cloaks anymore." Every tree and plant from here on was green and alive and in bloom.
They stuffed their cloaks into Norrington's pack. "When did we get packs anyway?" he wondered.
"I dunno. Prob'ly when we got to the wardrobe. Aslan must have given them to us. He knows we'd need them." She began into the woods.
Her words had James vexed. He stood for a moment in confusion, before realizing her absence and catching up with her. "But how could he have given us anything if we never met him? It was just us and only us when we arrived." She turned and looked up at him with a knowing smile and a wink.
