A/N: I'm terribly sorry for how late this chapter is. I never intended for it to be; many problems (that are mostly solved now) and family emergencies have come up, problems which I couldn't be absent to, and I have barely had enough time for myself, let alone this story. But regular updating has now returned, and I promise I will let you guys know ahead of time if something like this ever happens again.

Chapter 9: Recessus

It was as if the longer it took Peter and Edmund to get to Susan's chambers, the louder her screaming was. But finally, when the two kings had stumbled into the door, they were greeted with the unholy sight of Susan thrashing and screaming against her sheets, and Lucy, dear, sweet and defenseless Lucy, in tears and trying to keep her older sister from falling to the floor.

Muttering "Susan," under his breath, Peter rushed to her side and held his hand firmly on her left arm, effectively stifling her thrashing a bit. "Susan – look at me – Susan – Susan, please – "

But it was no use. Susan only screamed louder, the blue in her veins now even more visible against her pale skin. The few times she opened her eyes, Peter could see no color in them, no iris, no pupil – the poison was entering its deadliest stage.

Lucy was now crying, her forehead pressed against Susan's sweet-smelling hair, her voice desperate as ever. "Susan, please, come back to us…"

Edmund was frozen in the doorway, in fear and shock, perhaps the most he felt in his life. He tripped over the doorway to Susan's chambers and fell with a loud, hard thud on his back. He quickly tried to regain himself but was unable to; in a trice, he was helped up by soft, gentle hands that pulled him quickly to his feet. He whipped around to see a shaken-looking Cedany, in her night robes, and a similar looking Tyr. "Cedany – what-" he began, but realized it was unimportant. He quickly turned to Tyr. "My sister, Tyr…please…"

Tyr bolted for Susan's side and clicked his tongue to alert Peter, who moved to his side to allow Tyr to enter, still not letting go of Susan's hand.

Edmund turned to Cedany again. "You went to go alert Tyr?"

She tucked a loose brown hair behind her ear. "I – I was with my mistress when she started to scream," she explained. "I wanted only to –"

"Thank you," Edmund said, and took her hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze before letting it go to hurry to Susan's side like Peter and Lucy had.

Susan was still kicking against her sheets and against Lucy and Peter's firm holds. "What's happening to her?" Lucy choked, trying to sooth Susan by stroking her forehead, but to no avail.

"I – I am not sure," Tyr said, taking his hand and placing it to Susan's neck, but immediately drawing back. Edmund didn't need to ask; from the looks of it, her skin was ice cold. Tyr continued on: "It seems the Ius Mortis is taking into effect longer than I had thought."

"But – but you said we had time!" Peter said, the desperation in his voice rising as he held Susan down. "You said we had time, if we hurried, to find the Florus Intrivictius!"

"Time or no time, we must extract the venom from her body," Tyr replied, his attempts to make his voice firm failing. "We must – we must –"

"No," Peter said. "No – I will not let you or anyone, for that matter – cut into the skin of Narnia's beloved. I will not. Enough of this. Lucy, your cordial, if you please."

But Lucy shook her head. "It doesn't work," she wailed, wiping her red nose on her sleeve. "I've tried a drop – perhaps two, Aslan forbid – and it hasn't worked," she said.

"Well then it wouldn't hurt for a third!" Peter said. "Try it again –"

"I – I can't," Lucy sobbed. "A third – or a fourth – could be the difference between life and death for –"

"Lucy, we have no time for this!" Peter said. "The cordial – now –"

"Peter," Edmund said, speaking for the first time in what seemed like centuries. "Lucy's right. If a drop of the cordial didn't work, what is to say a second or third would? This poison was obviously supposed to counter the effects of the coridal's healing process. We must listen to Tyr. It is the only way."

Peter looked to Edmund, blue eyes meeting his nightly ones, then looked at Susan. He gave her hand a firm squeeze, then wiped tears that spilled silently from his eyes, falling onto the soft cushions of Susan's mattress. "If we were to wait for Oreuis to return with the cure, how will Susan fair until then?"

"The condition could worsen," Tyr said. "Or perhaps result in death. Needless to say, it is a risk I would urge his High King not to take."

Peter nodded, then wiped his nose, taking a step back, allowing Tyr more room. "Then do what you must do. And Tyr – do it carefully," he added firmly.

Tyr nodded, and withdrew from night robes what looked like an overlarge leather wallet that when he opened revealed at least ten sharp scalpels of different shapes and sizes. Peter shook his head in a combination of disbelief and unwillingness, running fingers through his hair in frustration. Edmund felt as if he wanted to vomit; the very thought of Susan being cut into, of her bleeding infected blood was enough to refrain him from eating for the rest of the day. Although she still gripped Susan's hand, Lucy had chosen to look away, looking as if she was about to faint.

"Girl," Tyr indicated at Cedany, who stood at the end of the bed. "I require your assistance." Cedany nearly tripped to where Tyr was and stood by his side, wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her robes. He handed her a wooden basin, and instructed her to hold it underneath Susan's left arm when told. From his collection, Tyr selected a scalpel that wasn't particularly big, perhaps the size of Peter's stretched hand at the most, but its tip was as sharp as any blade. He tested the end of the scalpel by pricking it against his finger, which was already enough to draw blood. Nodding, he turned to Peter. "Your High King, I apologize first and foremost of what I am about to do, but I can assure you, and all your gracious siblings –"

"Tyr," Edmund said, reaching across the bed to award Tyr a firm pat on his arm. "We trust you."

Tyr nodded, using this piece of information as motivation. Scalpel in hand, he drew it atop Susan's already shaking a forearm – and quickly and precisely pushed it into her skin, drawing blood. Susan's reaction was almost immediate, and scarily so: she screamed, a scream louder than anything Peter and Edmund and Lucy had ever heard, and thrashed so hard she nearly knocked Lucy to the floor. Again and again she screamed as Tyr pushed the blade downward so the cut was went as far as it could before it could severe any fatal artery.

Peter and Edmund rushed to Susan's sides, and Peter held down her thrashing legs while Edmund pushed her free right arm downward. Lucy clung to Edmund, her face hidden in his clothing. "Susan – it's alright – look at me, Su – it's alright," Edmund knew the reassurance would be to no avail but he continued anyway, his voice inaudible over Susan's screaming.

Tyr immediately withdrew the scalpel from her skin and turned quickly to Cedany, clicking his tongue and ordering her to place the wooden basin underneath Susan's cut forearm. Tyr's hands, full of blood, were placed on each end of Susan's forearm; after what seemed like hours, he twisted it with a sickening crack, and Susan's reaction was the worst of all; she screamed so loud and hoisted herself up so high she was nearly sitting up, but Edmund's hand pushed her back onto the pillows, Lucy's voice trying to soothe her until all the pain was over.

And then the most sickening sight of the evening made an unwelcoming arrival: Tyr was twisting Susan's arm so that blood, clogged blood with streaks of blue, splashed onto the wooden basin. Edmund tried with all his willpower not to vomit, but it was no use. The sight was so disgusting he gestured at Lucy to hold Susan down while he vomited all over the velvet floor. Even Peter, who had a stronger stomach, looked pale in the face.

Susan's screams reached its loudest, and with one final twist, Tyr released her arm and wiped his hands on a nearby towel. Cedany, who had streaks of tears down her face, lowered the basin to the ground. Peter could not see much, but what he did see shocked him; a mixture of blue and red, so that the blood was almost purple. Panting, Tyr looked to Peter. "It is done."

Susan was no longer screaming, but whimpering, shaking, sweating and crying, all while unconscious. Silently, Peter made his way to her bleeding arm, and informally ripped a part of his shirt off, wrapping it around the deep cut. She twitched under his touch, and when Peter let go, he wiped the blood that had landed on his own hands onto the remains of his shirt.

Edmund, who was still pale and sick-looking, made his way back to the bed and put a hand around Lucy, who looked shaken if not relieved.

And suddenly, Susan's shaking had stopped, and she lay still, unmoving, under Peter's hold.

Do rate and review, as those always keep me writing. And stay tuned for Chapter 10!