Disclaimer: Narnia and its characters are not mine. No infringement intended upon the property of C.S. Lewis, Disney, Walden Media, or anyone else involved.
Author's Note: All mistakes are that of the author. Thank you to all who reviewed. Happy mid-week update!
Summary: A cunning new foe emerges, endangering Narnia and the Pevensie siblings. When Peter is targeted, the Kings and Queens seek to unlock the mystery of the threat in time to save what is precious.
—oo0O0oo—
Chapter 4, Smoke and Mirrors
"You got nothing out of him?" Susan's voice held a distinct note of incredulity.
"For the third time, no. He didn't say anything to me and was asleep almost as soon as he laid down. And he has been asleep ever since."
Susan frowned in response to Edmund's statement. Lucy fidgeted with the hem of a blanket. Despite it being after supper, the light from the lengthening days illuminated the fraying end of yarn. The three siblings had worked through the early evening hours to initiate their plan for uncovering the traitor. They had also been fielding questions about the High King's mysterious absence. A few carefully worded replies had deflected the brunt of the public inquiries but did nothing to alleviate the anxiety felt by the Pevensie siblings.
"Are you sure he's not ill?" Lucy asked, again, fingering the cordial on her belt. Her elder siblings traded looks across her head.
Covering her busy hands with his, Edmund replied, "No, we're not, Lu. But there's no sense getting overly worked up. Fatigue is a perfectly logical explanation." The last was said with added emphasis in Susan's direction.
Susan's countenance relaxed as she made a face at her younger brother. "Perhaps the best thing we can do for Peter is to solve the mystery of this Gastavon character. Edmund has spoken with Orieus, I am to meet with Meletra in less than a mark, and you are working on the palace inhabitants. We do have a plan." Susan joined her siblings on the sofa.
"And if he doesn't get better?" For a moment, Lucy sounded like the child she had been.
"We will use the cordial. It will be fine." Susan reassured her, stroking the younger girl's hair. Accepting the comfort for a minute, Lucy relaxed into her sister.
"Well, then," Lucy straightened, becoming the Valiant again, "we best continue."
—oo0O0oo—
Susan held her candle closer to the scrap of parchment, squinting to see her instructions. She was somewhere under the wine cellars of Cair, somewhere dusty, dark and an ideal place for a lone Queen to be ambushed. Pushing those logical thoughts from her mind, she searched the wall for the marker indicated. Meletra had sent the parchment, indicating a friend of hers knew a place where books had been hidden during the early days of the White Witch. Susan was beginning to wonder if the friend was a bat or a rat or something that could see in the dark. Assuming it was a friend to Narnia at all.
Shaking her head at these untrustworthy thoughts, Susan spotted the carved lion's visage. Feeling a bit silly, she pressed the brick above and to the right. With the groan of rock on rock, a panel slide open and light spilled into the passageway.
Blinking, and with a hand on the hilt of her dagger, she met Meletra's anxious gaze.
"Queen Susan!" Meletra exclaimed. "Come in, please. I am glad you were able to find us. Allow me to introduce Rochella, the tortoise whose long memory is a boon to us. Next to her is my cousin by marriage, Yavet. And finally, I believe you know--"
"Mrs. Beaver!" Susan gaped at the animal in front of her.
"Queen Susan," Mrs. Beaver bobbed her head. "How do you think we knew so much about you and your siblings?"
Unable to think of anything to say, Susan helplessly shook her head.
"Well, come in, dear, and have a seat. Would you like toast with jam or a spot of tea?" Mrs. Beaver indicated the table around which the others were gathered.
Still dazed, Susan sat on a cushion by the low table. Trying to form a coherent thought, Susan asked, "Where are we?"
"Roughly under the intersection of the library and the great hall, Your Majesty," Rochella answered. "Through that door is a narrow passage, lined with shelves of books. Some are about Narnia's earliest history, some about magic and some about ridiculous protocol from the first King and Queen." Susan got the impression the tortoise was smiling, though it was hard to tell.
"When the White Witch took over, she sought to destroy reminders of the way Narnia was supposed to be, including the use of magic. Some of us continued to use the magic, for healing and the like, in secret and passed it down between families. Those who wanted to use magic openly and in the foulest of ways allied themselves with the Witch, though she only allowed those who were no threat to her to continue," Yavet's voice was grave as she continued the tale.
"Much of the knowledge of the great magic has been lost," Meletra said. "Even for those, like the tortoise, who retain knowledge of places like this. We will look in the scrolls and books for information on the one who threatens Narnia now, but we might not be successful."
Susan mulled this new information over. "You are all females, yet I understood Gastavon to be male. The White Witch and Hag were also female. Is there a connection?"
"The small magics, such as healing and herb lore tend to be more easily utilized by females, true, but that is not to say a male could not wield the power," Yavet answered.
"What do we know of this magic, like that of Gastavon and Brega. What power do they hold, and what can we do against it?" Queen Susan questioned the four around her.
"I can tell you what I know from memory," Rochella offered, "but I suggest we work to uncovered the knowledge that is lost, for I fear my knowledge is woefully inadequate. You'll have to excuse my lack of hands, though." Now Susan was sure the tortoise was smiling in her wry way.
"Yes, let us begin," Susan thought of Peter's odd behavior. "There isn't a moment to lose."
—oo0O0oo—
Susan had lost track of the hour, rubbing burning eyes as the words in an archaic version of Narnian script blurred together.
"Perhaps we aren't looking for the right thing," Susan commented with no little despair.
"We have learned about glamours, though, and have a possibility about the smoke the Hag used," Meletra pointed out.
"Yes, but this entire volume seems to be about exerting control over another, nothing about retrieving solid objects from distances or how to counteract an illusion." Yavet tugged at an ear.
"Control over another?" Mrs. Beaver peered over her teacup. "Goodness, do you think the White Witch did that?"
"I doubt she did it, it doesn't seem to be her style." Yavet grimaced. "Thank Aslan. It is more for control over one mind, and the Witch was concerned with the whole of Narnia."
Half-listening until this point, Susan gasped as she straightened in her seat. Four heads turned to her. "What if…no…I think…um…" Susan trailed off.
"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Beaver prompted.
Taking a breath, Susan collected herself. "What does it say?"
Eyeing her oddly, Yavet summarized, "An ancient form of a curse, to bind one's will to another. Considered to be especially vile in the early days of the Talking Animals, when free will and voice were novel. A magician would infiltrate the mind of another, gradually, impressing images and thoughts onto the other's consciousness. Accounts are very sketchy, and it hardly seems to work at all on four legged animals."
"How would someone perform this curse?" Susan was unaware her voice had grown sharp.
"It is not clear, my Queen." Yavet flipped through the pages. "It mentions the magician must have a 'determination' and something of the victim; there is mention of incubi, too. It is unclear, though. I am sorry."
"Oh Aslan," Susan breathed. "What if…"
"Queen Susan, dear, what is it?" Mrs. Beaver set a paw on Susan's arm.
"Could Gastavon have done this to Peter?"
Silence. Finally Meletra asked, "Is there something we should know about the High King?"
Briefly, Susan told them of her brother's troubles. "It doesn't seem logical, does it?" she concluded.
"It does not explain the item taken from your chambers, nor the attack on the outpost, but I do not think we can rule it out," Rochella eventually said. "Also, the Hag mentioned illusions and glamours as Gastavon's strengths. He could have the talent to create such a curse."
"We need to be certain." Susan began sorting through scrolls.
"All great magic leaves traces. That is one of the reasons it was impossible to do anything of that level while the Witch was ruling. She could follow it to the magician; perhaps we can do the same," Meletra offered.
"And, with luck, those working for Gastavon will be tainted, too," Mrs. Beaver added. "It'll be all right, dear. Your siblings have come through worse before; trust in Aslan."
—oo0O0oo—
It was nearly dawn before Susan returned to the upper levels of the castle. Bringing tea as a peace offering, Susan woke her younger brother.
Finishing his second cup of tea, Edmund considered everything Susan had learned. "So, you think that is what is wrong with Peter?"
Futilely smoothing her rumpled skirts, Susan nodded. "I do think something is affecting him, and that is the best explanation so far."
"I still think we should continue on our plans to uncover the traitor," Edmund said. "It might explain Peter, but this is not just an isolated plot against him. Gastavon wants to see all four of us fall and is not concerned about minimizing damages."
"Edmund?" Lucy's voice came through the door.
"Yeah, Lu, I'm awake."
"Really?" There was no masking the surprise in her tone as she pushed the door open.
"Yes, really. Susan was kind enough to wake me with the first birdsong."
"And you didn't chase her out?"
"Well, she brought me above average tea," Edmund conceded.
Lucy smiled at her older siblings before turning serious. "You need to get dressed, Ed. Orieus has had reports of random attacks throughout Narnia during the night. Susan, does this mean you discovered something with Ms. Meletra and her friends? Has anyone seen Peter yet?" As usual, the early hour did not deter Lucy's loquaciousness.
Edmund was already moving to the clothes press. "What sort of attacks?"
"I do not know, though I fear the worst. Oreius has apparently been frightening the attendants with his ill humor."
Stifling a yawn, Susan got to her feet and put an arm around Lucy. "I'll fill you in as I get ready for the day. Let's leave Edmund in peace."
"Neither of you have seen Peter?"
"He was still asleep, Lu. I'll check on him before I meet with Oreius," Edmund replied as he disappeared into the bathing chamber.
"Come on, Lucy. I need to speak with you." Susan guided her sister out the door.
—oo0O0oo—
By the time the noon meal occurred, Cair Paravel was in a controlled state of chaos. Reports of deadly, vicious attacks against known supporters of the four monarchs were filtering in from all areas of Narnia. Edmund had his hands full, dealing with the Council and the military. Susan was calming fears and reassuring the inhabitants of Narnia that they would find those responsible. Lucy, with the help of Mr. Tumnus, was speaking with all those in and around the palace in the hopes that they could uncover the identity of those whose loyalties had swayed.
Peter remained asleep.
A healer had told the siblings that the lacerations from the wolf attack were healing well, and he could find nothing save exhaustion wrong with the young king. The healer did consent to giving an official statement that the High King needed to rest to allow his body to fully recover, but that he was in no danger. The healer's assurances helped quell the most fervent rumors surrounding the High King's absence, but it did not stop the whispered, tense gossip.
Lucy fingered her cordial.
—oo0O0oo—
"Do you think it wise to move away from a central command?" Susan was grasping at straws and knew it.
"Susan, you are more than capable of command, as you yourself have pointed out more than once. The number of these attacks is increasing, and I think I have found a pattern in the attacks from the past few days," Edmund said, re-buckling his belt over his tunic and mail.
"The attack on the Northern Outpost was convenient for a statement, but it is an outlier. The rest of the attacks, including the wolf, are radiating out from Glasswater Creek area. The short range fighters are attacking closest to the mountains and river, while the long range fighters spread out into the surrounding country," Edmund continued in a low voice. "My instincts are telling me there, possibly in the mountains, is our foe."
A quick knock at the door and Lucy slipped in. "So it's true. You are going."
Edmund bit his lip and nodded. Lucy walked over and put her arms around Edmund's waist, before gesturing for Susan to join them in a three-way embrace.
"I have spoken to a stable hand and to several of the Talking Horses, including Philip. Several of them have seen a fox, slipping in and out of the castle with a carrier case, much like our hounds use for carrying correspondences. They all assume it has been on legitimate business, since it bears the Lion's mark. But I do not know of any foxes who are being employed as couriers." Lucy's voice was hushed.
When both her siblings shook their heads, Lucy continued, "Philip suggested I speak with the night guards and kitchen staff. Mr. Tumnus and I will start on that after lunch."
"Oh, Lucy, do be careful," Susan cautioned.
"Philip knows what we're doing," Edmund reminded her. "He wouldn't have suggested something that would be unduly dangerous."
"This from the boy and the horse about to ride off into unknown danger!" Susan's whispered response carried heat.
"Susan," Ed's voice hardened, "you need to calm down. We will be fine. Lucy will be fine. And Peter will be fine."
Susan drew a breath. "Sorry, Ed. You're right, of course. It's just too little sleep." She rested her head on his shoulder. "This armour is really not very comfortable."
The feeble jest broke the tension in the room.
"I'll bring that up with the Armourers," Edmund drawled.
"That can be your next campaign, after standardizing the quality of tea in Narnia," Lucy added.
Edmund drew away from the girls. "Naturally. I will be King Edmund, the Just, known throughout all the land as a fierce defender of tea quality. My retribution will be terrible and swift upon those who dare brew sub-par tea. Once my reputation is established, I shall move onto addressing the discomfort of armour, especially how it pulls ones hair when going over the head."
Susan and Lucy simultaneously raised an eyebrow.
"Never fear, my queenly sisters, I'll simply appeal to the High King for support in my quests." Edmund's voice wavered at the end.
"You will see him before you go?" Lucy asked.
"Yes, I am going there know. Susan and her friends are onto something with their dusty parchment." Edmund kissed both his sisters before waggling his eyebrows at Susan. "See if you can't find something about Narnian roads in all those scrolls, so I don't have to deal with the issue anymore?" And with an outlandish bow in their direction, he left the room.
"He'll succeed in finding Gastavon. We just have to help Peter, so he can pull Edmund's arse out of the proverbial fire."
"Lucy!" Susan was scandalized. "Where did you hear that?"
Lucy sniggered. "From Peter, of course, though he didn't know I was around."
Susan sighed and wrapped her arms around Lucy. "Yes, he'll be alright. Philip has enough sense for both of them."
"Horse Sense."
"Right. Shall we go find a way to get the boys out of trouble?"
—oo0O0oo—
"Peter?"
In the dim room, Edmund struggled to make out his brother in the twisted mess of sheets on the bed.
Leaning over, he shook Peter. "Wake up, Peter!"
Slowly, Peter's eyes opened. "Ed?"
"Yes; listen, Peter. You were right about their being a pattern in the attacks. They're radiating from the Glasswater Creek area. A water nymph confirms tracks matching those of the wolf that attacked you along the riverbank."
Peter licked his lips and blinked. "Ed? Why are you dressed?"
"Because it's daytime and most of us are awake," came the sarcastic answer. "Not to mention I look quite dashing."
Peter traced the Lion on his brother's tunic. "Aslan."
Realizing his brother was in no condition to be teased, Edmund took Peter's hand. "Yes, Peter, Aslan. I am riding out now, to stop the attacks. Lucy and Susan are taking care of things here at Cair."
"You're hurt."
"No, Peter, I'm fine."
"Take the girls and get out"
"Pete?"
"My fault. I'll stay. The blood is on my hands."
With a sudden ferocity that startled Edmund, Peter seized the front of his tunic. "Edmund. You must protect them. They'll die. They'll all die. You must get them out. Away from me. Promise me."
"Peter, I promise to protect them."
"Good." Peter fell back against the bed, eyes closed, releasing his hold on Edmund.
Shaken, Edmund leaned over and kissed his brother's brow. "Just sleep, Peter. It's alright."
Peter did not stir, already lost in sleep. As Edmund left the room, he thought he heard a soft "Aslan," but could not tell if it was a prayer or a curse.
—oo0O0oo—
Peter was in a dark place again. He was battling shadows, and his arms ached from the exertion of continually fighting with Rhindon. The shadows would sometimes find their mark, and he would feel the red hot burn of sliced flesh. But the wounds would heal. And he would continue to fight.
He was struggling to reach somewhere, something. Somewhere past the shadows. It was vital he reach his objective. He knew there was something at the end, something important.
For a moment Edmund had been here, but not here. His baby brother's voice had pulled him away from his endless quest. There had been gold on red, vibrant color after so much shadow. But Peter could no longer recall the shape, and the hues were fading.
There, the shadow was lessening. There was a clearing ahead.
With renewed energy, he pushed ahead.
Filtered light illuminated his goal. Lucy and Susan stood, bound to a stake in the ground. As he started toward them, a shaped moved from the shadows and drove a blade into Susan's narrow rib cage, toward her heart. Her mouth parted in surprise, and her dark eyes fastened on Peter's, even as he screamed her name. Time slowed and before Peter could take a step, the knife flicked again, slashing the form of his baby sister. Lucy's wide eyes found his, her freckles contrasting on her pale skin. Blood pooled on the ground as their tormentor slashed their bindings, and the girls dropped to the floor. The shadowed figure disappeared.
Finally reaching their side, Peter pulled Lucy into his lap, even while reaching out to Susan. Their blood flowed out of their bodies and onto Peter. Their skin grew cool. Their eyes remained fixed on him, even in their unblinking state.
Inarticulate in grief, Peter held the still forms of his sisters.
"Peter." Jerking his head to Susan's body, Peter saw no movement from her lips.
"Peter." Susan's voice called again.
Looking up, Peter saw his sister standing, holding Lucy's hand.
"Peter, it doesn't have to be this way," Susan told him. Walking toward him, through her mangled body on the ground, she held a hand out entreatingly.
"You can stop this, Peter. As High King of Narnia, you can prevent this from happening. We will show you where to go, what to do, to prevent this."
"Come on, Peter, pretty please," Lucy added her voice to the plea.
Nodding, Peter stood, abandoning the ruined bodies of his sister in exchange for these flowing images.
"You must travel in secret," Susan cautioned him. "You alone must save us. You cannot allow anyone to know."
Peter nodded again, and adjusted his sword in its sheath. He could do this. He, alone, would save his sisters. The flickers of gold at the edge of his vision had been washed away by the darkness and blood.
He followed his sisters as they led him through the night.
—oo0O0oo—
Author's note: Next up: Conspiracies, traitors and fauns, oh my! Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think. Next chapter should be up around Sunday or so. -Narelena