Howls infect the air with agony and pain amongst the sounds of pounding feet and something wrestling across the autumn leaves on the ground. I don't want to look up, but I do it anyway, just out of curiosity. A dark figure with a sleeveless robe thrusts a dagger into the heart of the wolf, leaving it to whine and whimper pathetically. He's stopped his anguished cries as I realise that he is now in fact dead. The figure removes his dagger and cleans it with the cloth of his robe. He acts as if he's done this before.

'You can get up now,' he says. He lends out a hand to me and I take it, seeing as I have no desire to be on the ground any longer and get my tights dirty (seeing as my dress is too short to be the one to be ruined).

'Um,' I tremble slightly. Pull yourself together, my mind barks at my quivering lips. 'Thank you.'

'It was my pleasure,' he beams, bowing gracefully. My eyes widen in surprise at this, as it is the last thing I expect him to do (the first thing I expect him to do is say: 'Anyfin' for a fit bird'). 'Anyway,' he adds. 'I believe that all creatures of the White Witch should be defeated. They're only vermin on Narnian land, as I am sure you understand.'

'No. I really don't.'

What on earth is he talking about – "Narnian land"? And who the heck is the White Witch?

'You're foreign aren't you?' he guesses with a quizzical look on his face. I can feel my face presenting a blank look of confusion. 'Or maybe you're... just a bit lost?'

'Err, yes.' I mumble, still staring at the corpse that the darkness was lingering around. I'm not sure whether or not to trust this guy; he has that boyish look about him tells me that this guy is probably the same age as me (15).

'You can stay with me until dawn,' he suggests as a starlight white horse appears by his side like a someone has suddenly turned on a light switch in the blackness. 'Cair Paravel is much safer than the likes of these woods.'

Hmm. I could be walking around for hours before I see anything remotely familiar, and my rescuer doesn't look like the type of guy to harm me so...

'Alright.' I agree gratefully. 'Who are you, anyway?'

'Of course,' the boy says as he mounts the horse and hoists me up behind him. 'Where are my manners? I am King Edmund the Just, King of Narnia.'

. . .

The warm beverage travels down my throat and informs every cell in my body to relax as the crackling flames lick the firewood in the fireplace, and heats the large space that Edmund calls "the drawing room" as I curl up in a ball in on the luxurious sofa as the orangey red light flickers across the room. Edmund sits in an armchair a few inches away from me and sips some tea from a golden cup noisily. I didn't believe him when he told me that he was a monarch, but this Cair Paravel is so fantastical that I squeezed Edmund tighter on the way here in excitement. But something's been chasing my thoughts round and round all evening.

'Edmund,' I begin uneasily. 'Before you saved me, that wolf was... talking to me.'

'I know,' he replies casually. 'Every animal here does.'

'Really?' How weird. 'Well,' I continue. 'It called me a Daughter of Eve and said that it'd been waiting for me. What does that mean exactly? And who's the White Witch?'

His body tenses at my question. His eyes seem to glaze over slightly, as if a bad memory has suddenly been remembered as I ask my enquiry. He avoids my gaze as he explains: 'I do not know why he was "waiting" for you but the White Witch is not someone we speak about around here, dear. Any person who believes that the White Witch was right in her actions and her torments on this kingdom is someone that you should NEVER trust. I almost got sucked into it myself.'

'But you didn't trust her?'

'No.' Edmund sighs. 'I didn't.'

Awkwardness comes quickly as the room becomes unbearably silent. A voice quite young and enthusiastic breaks the quietness: 'Edmund!'

Edmund glances round and mutters: 'Oh bugger.'

'Edmund, where have you been?' squeals a girl whose face is sprinkled in freckles and wearing a nightie. 'I've been so worried about you. Susan and Peter fell asleep before I could tell them of your disappearance but thank goodness your—ooh, hello, who's this?'

'This is...?'

'Cleo,' I say proudly, sitting up to look at the girl properly. 'Cleo Jones.'

'Good gosh, what an unusual name!' the girl grins. 'My name is Lucy, Queen Lucy the Valiant (but I don't like to flaunt it around). I'm Edmund's sister. Where did you come from?'

'I got lost, but then suddenly this huge—'

'—chance occurred, and I brought her back here so that she could go home at dawn.'

My eyes flash a glare at him. Why would he lie? His sister seems so sweet and innocent – why would he hide anything from her? Nevertheless, I might as well go along with it as to not upset her.

'Um, yeah, that's right.'

'How marvellous,' Lucy smiles. She looks at me and then looks and Edmund, and is suddenly declaring that she's retiring to bed.

'You should be too,' Edmund tells me. 'I'll tell the maids to make you a bed in one of the guest rooms.'

The two siblings melt away as I lose myself in the warmth and the comfort of the castle of Cair Paravel's drawing room that covers me in a quilt of elation, and the dreamworld of slumber has almost taken me. I can feel it.

. . .

A/N: Thank you for my reviewers, but please review more!

I'd really, REALLY lurve to know what you think.