Author's Note: At the beginning of the last chapter it said "Two years later"...scratch that. Violet's still 13. My mistake...sorry.
CHAPTER SIX
When I crawled out of the tunnel, I could hardly believe my eyes. I was standing in a beautiful meadow. Flowers of every size, shape and colour were growing hither and thither. Butterflies and other pollinating insects were buzzing about. The sun shone brightly on the scene, making the grass glow a brilliant emerald green. The delightful fragrance of hundreds of flowers brought a healthy pink glow to my cheeks.
I did what the stag had told me to do, and looked to the left. Indeed, there was a little homely cabin, with a pony tethered to the fence outside. It nickered softly as I approached it, and I reached up to stroke its velvety nose. Then I turned and knocked on the door.
I waited five long beats before knocking again. But, again, there was no answer.
My heart sank. What if I had imagined the stag? What if this was just some old cottage and the pony was a stray?
I leaned against the door and slid down it until I was sitting on the wooden porch.
So you're going to give up, just like that? Two knocks and that's all?
I started. The voice was so real it was almost as if someone had been whispering in my ear. But it was only my inner voice nagging at my mind.
Come on, Violet, get up and knock again! And if there's still no answer, try opening the door!
The taunting edge to the voice made me stand up and pound on the door once more. There was still no answer.
The doorknob felt cool in my hand as I began to twist it. It turned, turned, turned...and then stopped. Locked.
I kicked the door in frustration.
"'EY!" Someone shouted. "What's tha' doin'?"
I whirled around. On the other side of the meadow stood a boy. I was a little frightened because he looked quite a bit older than me, maybe seventeen. He was tall and slim with a shock of brilliant red hair and a freckly narrow face. He was wearing simple commoner's clothing and was barefooted. Clutched in his hand was a lead rope, and at the end of it was another pony, this one much bigger than the one tied to the fence.
"Who are you?" I asked boldly.
"I was abou' to ask thee the same question," he retorted. He had a strange sort of accent in his speech and spoke so fast I could barely keep up.
"I am Violet Carmen Pevensie," I said imperiously, lifting my chin. I really hoped I looked stronger than I felt at that moment. "The Princess of Cair Paravel."
"Aye," he said softly. "That thee art." He did not seem at all impressed by my status, and crossed the meadow in four long strides. He tied his horse to the fence and then stared me down. He was a good foot and a bit taller than me. His eyes were round and blue, the bluest blue I had ever seen. They were like crystals...like ice. But warm at the same time. He seemed quite kind, I decided, and I liked him.
"I'm supposed to go inside," I told him, "but it's locked and nobody would answer the door."
"That's because there's a-nobody inside," he said with a laugh, and reached around me to fit a large key into the lock.
I looked up at him. "Are you Tobias Bernstein?" I asked him.
"Aye," he said. "That I am."
"You're supposed to tell me what to do," I said.
"I am?" He looked at me with surprise in his eyes, his red eyebrows raised halfway up his freckly forehead. Then a knowing look passed over his face and he nodded. "Oh, aye. You're the royal wench who's off to find tha' father."
"I'm to find my father?" I squeaked.
He nodded. "But it's not me tha's got to talk to. Tha' need to speak to my father: Tobias Bernstein Senior."
"Oh." I watched the older boy as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for me. I breezed past him into the small cottage.
It was small, but comfortable. It had a very sweet appeal to it. There were lots of windows and therefore was very light and open, which made it seem bigger than it actually was.
"Where is Tobias Bernstein Senior?" I asked Tobias Bernstein Junior as he busied himself with emptying the contents of his knapsack into cabinets and cupboards.
He looked round, shrugged, and went back to his job. "He's not here."
"Well, where is he? I've got to speak to him." I crossed my arms in irritation.
"I've not a clue," the boy said. "Does tha' expect me to know where ma' father is every hour of every day?"
"But you knew I was coming," I said angrily. "He should have been here waiting for me."
"Ah, no-o," the Tobias Bernstein Junior said, drawing out the 'no' sound it sounded like two syllables. "We knew tha'rt were comin', but we didn't know when."
I sighed and sat down at the tiny table in the center of the room. "When will he get here?" I asked quietly.
The boy shrugged again.
"Well, what am I supposed to do until he gets here, Tobias Bernstein Junior?"
He laughed. "Oh, aye. Call me Toby, lass. It's much less of a mouthful." He reached over and placed a plate of warm garlic toast and some beans. "Tha' can eat while you wait."
"I'm afraid I'm not hungry," I said apologetically. "Sorry."
"Not to worry," he said, waving the apology away. "But tha' should eat somethin'. Tha'll need tha' strength."
"Strength?" I repeated. "For what?"
"For what?" he repeated incredulously. "For tha' quest, o' course."
"Quest?" I demanded. "What quest?"
He shook his head and turned away again. "Ah," he said. "I'll let me father tell you that."
So I curled up on the sleeping palette in the corner of the place and waited.
