She hadn't reached the bottom of the hill before she heard it; a sound rich as the morning sunrise, deep, but sweeping with the light breeze. Nimueh broke into a run, down to her tent. She dropped her bow and quiver, picked up her blades, and hurried towards the sound.

At the edge of the campsite was a patch of woodland, and a little way through the trees was a stream. Nimueh could hear the screams of the girls before she reached were Aslan stood.

"Wait," the Lion commanded, holding out a paw in front of Nimueh and the small group of creatures who had followed her. "This is Peter's fight. He must do this alone."

Nimueh stood firm, blades still raised slightly, watching Peter and the wolf circle each other. The eldest Pevensie's face twitched; he wasn't a killer. But the way his brows furrowed, the way he stopped between the wolf and the tree in which his sisters clung, it made her think that just maybe the boy holding a sword, that had seemed so large not so long ago, had it in him to become a king.

The wolf launched itself at Peter, claws out and dangerous. Nimueh flinched as the pair of them toppled to the ground. Both bodies lay still for a moment, until the wolf rolled to the side, the sword plunged deep into its chest. Nimueh allowed herself to breathe as Peter pushed himself up, looking quite bewildered. Lucy and Susan jumped down from the tree and embraced their brother.

A second wolf, who had been cowering behind a couple of trees, bolted further into the woods as soon as its leader had been killed. "Go," said Aslan. "He'll be returning to his mistress. He will lead you to Edmund."

Nimueh leapt past the Pevensies and over the stream. She, Oreius, and the other warriors followed the wolf through the woods until the sky had darkened. It became difficult to see through the leafy treetops, but soon they could see smoke rising above the trees from the fires at the Witch's camp.

"Spread out," she called over her shoulder. "If you find the Son of Adam, get him and leave. The rest of you, take care of anyone who stands in our way."

There were a few ugly creatures straggling at the edge of the camp. They got up from where they sat, raising axes at the charging squadron. Nimueh caught one of the axes under the blade with one of her swords and pulled it from the creature's grip, using the other the slash a deep wound in its chest.

Cutting down every dwarf, hag and fury that came at her, even if it wasn't in an attempt to kill them, Nimueh stopped in front of a large huddle of creatures. They seemed unaware of the chaos behind them as their eyes never trailed away from a very tall, and very pale, woman holding a knife. She was standing next to a thick tree, tied to which was a small creature that Nimueh presumed to be the second Son of Adam.

As she lacked the body mass of a human, she was light on her feet and easily sprang onto the backs of the creatures, wrapping her arms around their shoulders and clambered over them. The less than intelligent creatures hardly noticed her before she had moved onto the next. When she had reached the shoulders of an ogre not a couple of metres from the pale woman, she launched herself at the Witch, knocking the knife from her hand. Nimueh expected her to fight back, but as the stampede of centaurs, satyrs and fauns charged through the huddle of the Witch's followers, she disappeared.

Turning to the tree trunk, she stared into the Son of Adam's dark, fearful eyes. "Edmund Pevensie?" He nodded. Cutting the rope that bound his wrists, she cried out, "Oreius!" Nimueh untied Edmund from the tree as the Centaur galloped over. "Take him back to the camp. We'll deal with the rest." Oreius nodded, hoisting Edmund onto his back and turned in the direction they had come.

"Did anyone see where the Witch disappeared to?" No one answered.

Plunging blade into the chest of a red dwarf, she struck another in the head with the heel of her boot. With every blow, every splatter of blood, she thought, their mission was complete, Edmund was safe. This was not a good time to start an all-out battle in the camp of the enemy. Nimueh called a retreat, and the company made for Aslan's camp.

After about ten minutes, they caught up with Oreius and Edmund. The boy was out cold, held together firmly in the arms of the Centaur.

It was almost dawn when he awoke. He was able to walk, but trailed behind the rest of them. Nimueh, although frustrated that he had betrayed his family, took pity on him. He had been seduced by the White Witch, probably promised comfort and affection, only to have her keep him prisoner as bait.

She fell back to walk next to him. "Are you hurt?" He shook his head briefly. "My name is Nimueh."

Edmund didn't speak for what felt like a long time, and when he did, he continued looking at the ground. "Are you a...what do they call it? A Daughter of Eve?"

"No. At least, I'm not like you and your family."

"My family? Oh, whatever am I going to say to them?"

"Aslan will probably want to speak to you first, and I'm sure he will be able to answer all of your questions."

Edmund didn't speak again after that. Nimueh got the feeling that he was deep in thought, and continued beside him in a comfortable silence. The sky was blazing orange and yellow when they got back to the stream where Peter had killed the wolf. Helping Edmund over the water, Nimueh wanted to say something to encourage the boy, but couldn't find the words.

Aslan was waiting outside his tent when they broke through the trees into the valley. Edmund stopped suddenly, staring at the Great Lion who had started towards them. Nimueh placed a hand on his back and gave him a little push forwards.

"Thank you for returning him safely," Aslan said. Nimueh hung behind as the rest of the warriors went back to their tents. "You can let Edmund's brother and sisters sleep for now. I'd like to speak with him alone."

"Yes, Aslan." She bowed and left the two of them.

Although she hadn't slept in just under twenty-four hours, Nimueh didn't feel at all tired when she returned to her tent. Lying back on her blankets, she wondered how the Pevensies were going to react when they saw that their brother had come back. Would they forgive him? Would they still be angry? She didn't know the Pevensies well enough to have an answer, so she got up and took her weapons over to the where the blacksmiths had set up their equipment.

No one was awake yet, but the camp didn't have that eerie emptiness of the forest she had been staying under only days ago. Like before, she knew that there were creatures all around her, but this time they were all on her side. Nimueh sat down on a stool and began to wash the blood from her blades. It was tough, having hardened on the journey back to camp, but the metal of the blade looked good as new when she got it off.

Unaware of how long she had been sitting there, it surprised her when the huge shadow of Aslan blocked the sun. He stood with Edmund, who looked slightly less frightened, but more solemn. "You can wake the Pevensies now. I doubt they'll have gotten much sleep last night, but they can rest easy knowing that their brother is safe."

Nimueh nodded, drying off her weapons and returning them to her tent. She wandered over to what she hoped was Peter's tent. Not hearing any movement, she called out softly. "Peter Pevensie." Nothing. "Peter Pevensie, are you in there?"

"You can come in." His voice wasn't groggy; he mustn't have been sleeping.

Nimueh hesitated before entering, unsure as to why he didn't come out to her. "Erm…Aslan sent me to tell you that your brother go back safely. You can go and see him if you like."

"You just got back?"

"No, we got back earlier this morning, but Aslan wanted to talk to your brother so told me not to wake you."

Peter snorted softly. "I barely slept anyway."

"I'll leave you now."

"Thank you," Peter said quickly, before she turned away. "Thank you for making sure my brother returned safely. And for yesterday; I could tell you wanted to help with the wolves."

"I was just doing my job."

"Aslan have me a knighthood."

There was something strange about the way he said this. She was used to the Elites boasting about new graces and titles they had been granted. But the Son of Adam simply seemed to be trying to make conversation with her. She realized just how cold she must have seemed to the Pevensies. First, she when they had arrived at the camp, and second, when she had been properly introduced to them, and third, when she had scolded him. "Congratulations." It wasn't hard for Nimueh to find a smile. "I'm sorry, I realize I haven't exactly been very welcoming."

"Oh no, don't worry about that. It must be sort of annoying having a kid who just arrived get a knighthood after killing a wolf."

The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "I'm not surprised actually. You've had no training and don't seem like the kind of person who often gets into fights. That was a very brave thing to do, to save your sisters." Peter dropped his head to the ground and smiled, probably a little embarrassed by her comments. "Do you want to see your brother."

"Oh yes, of course!" Peter look up quickly.

Nimueh stepped aside, letting him leave the tent before her. His sisters were already out of their tent and walking across the grass, looking up to where Edmund and Aslan stood in the side of a hill. She watched the reunion from Peter's tent, unable to hear what they were saying, but their smiles told her that they were pleased to be together again.

For the first time, she felt happy, excited even, by Elijah's prophecy. Perhaps it would give her the opportunity to have something she didn't have back in her own world; a purpose, somewhere she belonged.