And Afterwards


Humor is a serious thing. I like to think of it as one of our greatest earliest natural resources, which must be preserved at all cost.

~ James Thurber


Something like a black finger was lowering from the sky, so gigantic it stretched from tumultuous clouds to the green earth below. It seemed to be spinning; writhing and twisting as it moved across the ground. At its base a huge cloud of dust rose into the air as dark as the thing.

"It's a tornado!" Aravis screamed, "We had them in Calormen!"

But the screaming of the thing drowned out her words as it tore across the ground, howling like a thousand ghosts.

"Inland! Now!" Colin's voice cut the noise and in a moment they were galloping up the bank, away from the ranging sea. Ahead of them a line of trees writhed and bent, their leaves stripped and flying in the wind. Colin leapt free of his horse, gesturing for them to do the same.

Gwendolyn swung off her horse, staggering as the wind caught her and pushed her back. Colin grabbed her hand, then Aravis' and dragged them forward, a moment later, they stumbled into the ditch at the side of the road and they felt his hands pushing them face down in the mud.

Then the trees began to fall.

Gwendolyn heard a great groaning crack through her hands, then the earth shuddered and the light was shut out as a great trunk fell across the ditch. The roaring of the wind increased tenfold, shrieking around them. Gwendolyn had a vague feeling that Aravis' elbow was sticking into her back, but as she turned her head, she saw it was the limb of the tree, stabbed several feet into the ground by the impact.

The wind roared and shrieked in wild frenzy as if it sought to reach them and crush them with ethereal hands. Gwendolyn felt the earth shake and her stretching hand found only mud and damp sand, then another hand, as damp and shaking as her own. It was Colin's hand, she knew, but it didn't matter, it was a hand, it was an anchor in the screaming. For one moment she remembered his hand in the darkness when the candle had gone out in the tunnel. It had held her down.

~o*o~

It seemed to end as quickly as it had begun.

She found herself looking up as Colin raised his head above the ditch. What she saw took her breath away. Where there had stood a grove of mighty oaks there was only the wild tangle of upturned roots and mighty trunks, prone on the sodden ground.

"Aravis!"

One word, torn from Colin, sent Gwendolyn's heart thumping in terror as she turned to look…to look.

Aravis' eyes were closed and her face was bathed in blood. She lay as unmoving as the trees, half submerged in mud.

"Aravis!" Colin grabbed her hand, searching, searching for life, "Cor's going to kill me."

Gwendolyn barely heard him, her head was beginning to spin and she clutched at a muddy root, with a vague idea that she could hold herself there. Aravis' blood mixed with the mud, staining it crimson, welling from the wound on her forehead. Was that a flash of bone that she saw there? She took a deep breath, clutching the root for all she was worth.

"She lives! She lives!" Colin cried, then carefully he felt her over, searching for broken bones, "but if her neck is broken…can't you do something?"

He was looking at her now, staring, his face ashen.

"Gianna?"

"Just ignore me," Gwendolyn summoned all her strength, annunciating each word carefully, "I'm going to faint. Just ignore me. I'm sorry I can't help…"

"Gianna!"

~o*o~

~o*o~

There was darkness, darkness and a fringe of weeds ghosting somewhere deep underwater. The surface was growing gradually nearer, silver, convoluted, gleaming with dull sunlight.

"What happened to her?" the voice came from far away, far above the surface of the water.

"She passed out. It was all your blood."

"Oh…I appreciate the sympathy."

"At the moment I'm not feeling so gallant. The two of you managed to scare me half to death. First you whacking yourself, then her just sputtering out."

"Don't be too hard on her, poor thing. I've never been squeamish, but I've heard it's rather awful."

"It is," Gwendolyn said thickly. Opening her eyes was an enormous effort.

"You're awake!" Aravis' voice said weakly from over somewhere. Colin's face appeared over hers, looking half worried, half quizzical.

"And feeling like an idiot." Gwendolyn said grimly. "I am so sorry."

"Don't, don't."

She felt his hand patting her shoulder…at least she thought it was her shoulder. All her parts seemed to be a million miles away from each other. Feeling was only just creeping back up her legs.

"Well, um…if you're perfectly recovered," Colin said.

"I'm not, but that's all right."

"I can imagine she feels worse than I do at the moment," Aravis said.

"I do." It was a statement. Gwendolyn was sure she felt worse.

"Well then, if you are not perfectly recovered then I'm going to see if I can't find one of the horses. I'm certainly not going to try carrying two girls around."

"Just leave me here to die," Gwendolyn murmured and meant it.

"I don't think things will go quite that far," Colin said comfortingly.

~o*o~

Corin pulled himself up out of the ditch, glancing back at where Gianna and Aravis lay flat in the mud, both looking rather green around the eyes. Around him trees were down everywhere, a massive wreck of tangled, knotted trunks. A sudden burst of sun made him look up to see sunlight streaming down from a rent in the grey clouds above him. As quickly as the storm had come, it was gone.

He found the first horse in the jumble where the woods had been. It was Aravis' chestnut gelding, neck bent unnaturally under him. From the glassy stare of his eyes Corin knew he was dead. An icy grip of fear clutched at his heart as he thought of his own horse, liver chestnut and beautiful, as fine a friend as he had ever had. He looked around, scanning the stretch of silvery grass that lead to the cliffs over the sea.

He walked on, hands deep in his pockets, scanning the horizon for a sign of life. A small sound made him turn and his heart sank as he saw Gianna's bay mare, eyes wide in terror, as she attempted to stumble on three legs. Her foreleg was shattered and swung limp as she held it, staggering slowly towards him as if he were a refuge.

Corin went to meet her, running his hands down her glossy neck, crooning to her, watching the fear slide out of her eyes. She did not see the knife blade hidden in his hand and a moment later it was mercifully over and she sank down on the grass to lie quite.

Corin continued on, no hope now of finding his own horse uninjured. At least he would be able to end his pain when he did find him. He stumbled over tree trunks, chafing his hands on the rough bark. He stopped to catch his breath and a slight movement caught his eye. Looking down, he saw a little frog hopping awkwardly through the turned up leaves.

"Poor little fellow," Corin said, pocketing him.

Ahead, one great oak had caught another and Corin ducked to go under them. As he did, a burning of sun on a red gold coat in the corner of his eye made him stop in his tracks.

And he saw his horse.

His horse.

"Dunbar," he said quietly and the horse raised his elegant head from where he was grazing to prick his ears at his master. With a happy whinny, Dunbar swung around and cantered to him, then slid to a halt to rub his forehead on Corin's shoulder.

"Why you great big, ugly, old sack of tanned hide am I glad to see you!" Corin cried, rubbing back.


A/N: I have first hand experience on fainting, seeing as I do it regularly. I stay out long enough that I normally have strange dreams which are both vivid and uncanny. I had once fancied that I would become a vet, but after watching some very interesting surgeries (including several laser surgeries) I found myself not sufficient for the task... alas... maybe I'll become a physicist instead...:)

Brings to mind a certain television show with a squeamish doctor...

~Psyche