The boy had lifted his iron sword and slashed his palm, opening a shallow gash; he held his hand over her outstretched palm. I tried to run forward, but the wind that pushed me back was so furious, and the chill penetrated so deeply, that it was all I could do to yell.

"NO!" But the drop had fallen—a ruby red drop on pure white. For a moment, everything was deathly, nightmarishly silent.

Then, the Witch stepped forth. Out of the ice wall, her regal form took shape. The chill dug deeper, if even conceivable. "Why aren't I moving?" I asked myself. "Because," I answered, "she's so beautiful." The White Witch hadn't aged in appearance, if anything, she seemed younger. Everything from the grace of her walk to the proud features she bore held one spellbound. Who is invulnerable to such a sight? I can't remember when or how I broke from my stupor, but when I did, I saw she already had her staff in hand and was speaking to the boy. Persuading him. Luring him further.

"Now, my boy, tell me where I am? Of which world? For, I cannot do this without a hero—a brave, strong—"

"No! Don't listen to her!" I shouted as I threw myself at him. By the skin of my teeth—that was the distance by which I was able to avoid the touch of her staff. We scrambled out of the snow quickly, or tried to, rather. The boy still seemed quite dazed.

"Daughter of Eve," Jadis purred, striding after us. "I've waited a long time to see you again. Why would you want to run?" Anyone who believed I would've stayed to be added to her statue collection is obviously touched in the head. Even running as fast as I could, dragging a poorly dressed boy along, mind you, her long legs were still able to keep pace. Her power seemed to be gaining strength here already; flurries were dancing down, descending gently to the ground, all across the block. That's when a terrible wail sounded, and red and blue flashing light were speeding towards us. Jadis was momentarily taken aback.

"Freeze!" The man dressed in black who had stepped out of the white vehicle seemed to catch his breath as his eyes took in the beauty that was the White Witch.

"Do not tell me what to do peasant!" Jadis waved her arm dismissively, but to her dismay, whatever she had expected to happen didn't happen. I didn't get to observe much more than that.I wish I had been able to go the same way as before, to go back to the antique shop. But the vehicle with the flashing lights had blocked that way, and I certainly wasn't about to go back. Instead, when I felt I was far enough and could run no longer, I retreated into an alleyway.

"Oh my gods," the boy breathed as we crouched down behind foul smelling rubbish cans, catching our breath. "What-?"

"We shall discuss details later," I whispered sternly. "For now, we need to find a safe place to hide, preferably a place far away from the park." The boy nodded solemnly.

"I think I know just the place."

The air was salty, the waves were rocking gently, and the stench of rotting fish nearly suffocated me. One couldn't be persnikity at times such as these; however... "Out of all the area in this city-"

"Have you ever read the Odyssey?" The boy asked this so suddenly, and so casually, that it took a moment for me to comprehend the question.

"A very, very long time ago, but-"

"Think of this as Phaicea."

"I beg your pardon?" The boy gave an exasperated sigh.

"The first half of the epic, Odysseus is retelling his story to the king of Phaicea, a sea-faring kingdom. They were famous for their kindness to those they felt deserved it." Changing tactic in response to my blank expression, he responded rather wearily.

"Look, I'll take you someplace safer and less...pungent tomorrow. I didn't have money for a cab to take us farther. I'll ask Captain Hinius for a loan tomorrow." I nodded, the image of the kind, dapper, gray haired Captain who provided a small cabin for us on his ship surfacing in my mind's eye. In the light of the small lamp in our room, I took the liberty to observe the boy who sat on the other bed across from mine. His skin was tan, but pale, and his thinness made the features on his face all the more sharp. Though, that angular face seemed as if it was at one time softer. I brushed away the sword-I didn't think the explanation he would provide me would suffice nor did I need anymore surprises for the night. I observed his clothing, then. The worn leather of his jacket, and the way the light on the lamp colored his faded blue trousers stirred something in my memory.

"Your the boy who screamed at me in the park!" He raised an eyebrow at me, as if this realization was something rather obvious. Well, I do suppose the sword was a bit of a glaring signal, but, please, I was so tired and baffled and nauseus-it was with relief I was able to answer his next question.

"What's your name?"

"Susan. Susan Pevensie. And yours?"

"Nico di Angelo." I held out my hand. At first, he looked at it the same way Peter looked at Mr. Beaver when he spoke. Then, he hesitantly held out his own hand and gingerly shoot mine. I gave a short laugh.

"A pleasure to meet you, Nico di Angelo."

1,004 words, and updated ahead of schedule. It would be impossible for me to update all stories at once, so you guys are the first to get the update. hope it was worthwhile