Chapter 4—Outset

That, of course, was easier said than done.

The Hermit clearly had experience in readying others for hard travels. He had scanned their saddlebags and Canisp's clumsy pack, clucked his tongue and proceeded to organize their supplies and provide little things they hadn't thought of. Accustomed as they were to eternal winter, firestarting supplies had dominated their plans; but they had grown too used to the presence of snow, and had to be reminded of the necessity of waterskins.

"Nor," the Hermit pointed out, "Will it always be possible or safe to live exclusively in the form of a Wolf." As such, he had provided Canisp with a few changes of clothes and, firmly, a packet of what rations he could spare; they could not always, he said, rely on hunting. After seeing Orion struggle to keep his balance on Canisp's wrist and shoulder without hurting her, he had also found a thin wooden rod and wound a strip of fabric around it, fixing it to the back of Vesta's bridle—a travelling perch.

Once they had tucked a few more pieces of goat cheese into the saddlebags, given the Hermit their heartfelt thanks, and promised to take good care of Vesta, Canisp and Orion suddenly realized they had absolutely no idea how to proceed

After an extremely awkward pause, Canisp gave a short, rueful laugh. "I suppose we just assumed that our path would be clear once we got here," she admitted. "We expected some sort of sign."

The Hermit seemed unperturbed. "Fear not, my daughter," he said calmly. "Aslan will help you, in his own time."

"I don't doubt it," Orion said. "The only problem is, when is his time?"

"All times are my time," announced a golden voice. All four heads turned towards the great Lion perched atop the ivy-covered eastern wall.

Aslan dropped soundlessly to the ground, his mighty paws spreading on the emerald grass. Orion dipped his head respectfully, and the Hermit, seemed completely unsurprised by the presence of Aslan in his back garden, swept into an easy bow. Canisp was in human form holding Vesta's reins, and was therefore at somewhat of a disadvantage. Still, she managed a respectful, if slightly clumsy, bow.

Aslan addressed Canisp first, saying simply, "Trust, dear heart. You have the courage of a lioness, but in the end faith alone will save you. Remember this."

Turning to Orion, he said, "It is your place to see, as much as it is a Horse's to run and a Sparrow's to sing. From the sky, you can tell easily where your path will lead. Few others have this chance. You must wait for them to discover their own paths."

Aslan then faced Vesta. He said nothing to the Mare, but opened his mouth and breathed on her, ruffling her silky black mane. The horse blinked, flicked her tail…

…and gave a gentle nicker.

Canisp's disappointment must have shown on her face, because Aslan turned his mournful eyes to her. "Speak your mind, dear one."

Choosing her words carefully, Canisp asked, "Aslan… can't you help her? You gave beasts the power of speech once…"

Aslan's eyes were sad. "My dear child," he said. "All things must work according to their purpose."

Canisp lowered her eyes and gave a tiny nod.

"Now!" Aslan's tail lashed his flanks. "Are you ready?"

Canisp looked at Orion, who nodded.

"Yes," she answered. "Tell us what to do."

Aslan gave a proud lion-smile. "As you must," he said, and the breath of his whisper picked up into a warm, sweet breeze, swirling around the trio. Then the breeze became a wild, exciting wind like that which drives a sailboat on a summer's day, and the very air itself began glowing with a soft golden light, picking up speed until it became a gale and then the light began to dim, fading gradually and taking the wind with it.

Canisp blinked and looked around. They were in a wood—but such a place! It was still and silent, but yet somehow still full of Life; she could feel the leaves being warmed by the sun, the roots drawing water from the numerous symmetrical pools scattered among the tees. And yet the only sounds were their own breathing… and… something else…

Orion, with his superior eyesight, was the first to see it. "Is that… a guinea pig?"

It was. A fat brown guinea pig was nosing about not a stone's throw away, nestled in the drinking roots of a tree.

There was a long pause.

"Can I eat it?" asked Orion.

"No."

They stood staring at it for some time, until Vesta, with a snort of annoyance, tugged the reins out of Canisp's lax grip and trotted over to the little animal. It looked faintly surprised when she began snuffling at it, but not scared; it touched noses with the Horse and began sniffing back, looking her over with equal interest. Canisp shook herself and switched back to her wolf, trotted up to Vesta and gently pushed her back so that she could get a good look at the creature. It looked and smelled completely ordinary, except for some pieces of a strange sticky material in its fur. She pulled these off carefully. The chubby little creature, completely unruffled by a large wolf nosing it about, paused its nibbling to give a contented purr.

"Canisp!"

Orion's call nearly made Canisp jump out of her skin after the silence of the wood. After taking a moment to restart her heart, she walked over to his tree. "What is it?" she asked.

Orion indicated one of the pools with his beak. "Look."

The rich red soil in front of the pool was exposed, dug up in a thick strip that showed up well against the bright grass. It was clearly a marker of some kind. "What do you think it means?" Canisp murmured. Orion shook his head, nonplussed. Even Vesta looked confused.

Suddenly Canisp felt something bumping against her hind foot. Looking down, she saw the guinea pig, nudging her insistently. "What are you doing?" she muttered.

"Now can I eat it?"

"No. It wants me to do something." The guinea pig, satisfied that they were paying attention, scurried over to the place where they had arrived, grabbed something in its mouth, and began doggedly dragging it towards the three Narnians.

Meeting the little creature halfway, Canisp sniffed at the object. It was a key; nondescript enough, really. It was roughly two and a half inches long, rather old-fashioned. She placed her paw over it curiously, and it was cool to the touch. The only unusual thing about it was that it was pure white, and felt like it was made of stone rather than metal.

Suddenly, Vesta gave a shrill whinny and half reared as Canisp and Orion gave identical cries of shock. As Canisp touched the key it began to change, twisting in on itself and curling around Canisp's finger to form a ring.

Finger, and yet it was a paw at the same time; somehow, for the barest shadow of an instant she was in both her forms; for the briefest possible moment in time she had no form. She was simply herself, all of her, with no thought for how or why—

Then Canisp gave another cry; as the two ends of the ring connected, it flashed with a blinding white light. In that instant Canisp felt it burn simultaneously with scorching fire and biting ice. Her consciousness seemed to explode. She was everywhere and everything. A million and more nerve endings connected her to the trees and the stars and the very particles of the air, not only in this wood but in Narnia and thousands of worlds besides. She was the sun and the rain, black and white and everything in between, and a voice older than time itself was telling her something, but it didn't use words and it wasn't a voice. Still, in that moment between heartbeats, she understood.

This is what you are.

And then it was over. Canisp collapsed soundlessly, and with some echo of that moment of omnipotence she noticed that the place where she stood was more vibrant, more alive, than any other part of the wood.

A feathery touch on her face woke her. Orion's eyes were frantically searching hers for any sign of recognition. "Canisp?" he said. "Canisp, are you all right? What happened?"

"Ori," she breathed, "I know what we have to do."

It wasn't instinct.

Canisp knew her instinct very well, thank you, and this wasn't it. It wasn't vague, indefinable, or shadowy. It wasn't an automatic reaction or a powerful, unexplained compulsion. It was a stray tendril of that moment of awe-inspiring power, a call, a doorway… Canisp didn't quite know how to describe it, but she had a powerful physical need to follow the strand of power, which led to a pool about one hundred feet behind her and to the left. However, she knew that to just leap after it would be foolish in the extreme. They were most likely about to be dropped into another war, another resistance, and they had best be ready.

Canisp strung her bow and slung it over her shoulder, ready if she needed it. After discussing it at length with the Hermit, she had decided that a human form would be safest for the entry into a new world, however uncomfortable it made her.

Orion dropped onto his cloth perch, wings half-spread in case he was needed for an aerial attack. Vesta, sensing the seriousness of the situation, stood perfectly still. Pulling herself with some difficulty and a great deal of awkwardness onto the mare's back, Canisp took a moment to rest a hand on Orion's head, taking strength from his silent courage.

"All right," she said finally. "Let's go." Touching her heels lightly to Vesta's sides, she communicated the same message.

Before Vesta could so much as lift a foot, however, another extraordinary phenomenon occurred. The minute Canisp made the decision to follow the tendril, the world around them seemed to warp. There was a curious sensation of being drawn forward, then of standing in two places at once; and then there was another flash of brilliant light, and the trio found themselves standing in the strangest forest they had ever seen, blinking rapidly as they took in their surroundings.

A/N: Aslan is the only character to appear in every single Narnia book. As such, it is an integral part of the universe and I can assure you that he will be present in every Canisp book as well.