Fragile

Lucy was true to her word, perhaps more than she intended. Edmund and Zia spent every spare moment together. They trained in the early morning and met again in the evenings to sit in the library or stroll around the gardens. Within a week Peter grew tired of addressing his brother more than once before he would come out of his thoughts and back into the meeting at present. Ivy's patience withheld a little longer but even the gentle Dryad healer became fed up with doing work around the hospital that she had originally entrusted to Zia. Her assistant's mind was seldom on the task in hand and often she would forget about changing a patient's sheets or sponging a clammy forehead and drift to the window. There she would stare down at the beach until Ivy bustled into the room and snapped her out of her daze.

"This can't go on," Peter said wearily, resting his forehead on his hand. He sat in his favourite chair by the fire in the dimly lit room in which the Pevensies liked to spend their evenings. It was often the only calm time during the day when they could all sit together and talk about insignificant things, read or play chess. Edmund was absent from the gathering that night – Lucy had lost a dependable chess opponent and the Just King's absence was having sufficient impact on Peter. He hadn't been with his brother alone and face to face for days.

Peter sighed and closed his book. It no longer held any interest for him. He stared sullenly into the fire. The flames crackled and popped merrily in the grate. Outside the tall windows the stars winked like eyes amidst the deep blue sky.

"I shall lose my head if Edmund can't keep control of his throughout council meetings. Other members of the council are beginning to question his mental health. He's only nineteen, for Aslan's sake. He can cope perfectly well with his duties as well as find time to spend with Zia. He needs to learn to distinguish between business and pleasure and keep the two separate."

Susan glanced up from her book. "Don't be too hard on him, Peter. He's in love."

"That's what worries me," Peter confided. "He must know he can't stay with her. She's a Dryad and he's a king. Kings have duties to their subjects to find wives of royal breeding, whether the marriage will settle an allegiance or expand the kingdom's borders."

"We do not yet know whether he intends to marry her," Susan pointed out.

"Have you seen him, Susan?" Peter cried. "His eyes are permanently clouded over and he can't think straight when she's not around. He doesn't even concentrate properly during sparring practise. She has turned him into a bumbling fool. If he does not intend to marry her, I will give up my throne."

"I think it's rather sweet," Lucy piped up. She knelt in front of the chess board on the hearth and was trying her best to fill in Edmund's role in their game. "I think Ed knows what is expected of him, Pete. He just wants to hold it off for as long as possible and spend as much time with Zia as he can before his obligations and her roots - pun very much intended - force them apart."

Peter regarded his sister with raised eyebrows. "That was incredibly insightful, Lu. I might appoint you to the council in Edmund's place."

"Let him alone for now," Susan advised, returning her attention to the volume in her hands. "No harm can come to him for the moment and that's all that matters."

Little did Susan know – little did any of them know – how alarmingly wrong that statement would turn out to be. They had all but forgotten the enemy that lurked in the woods. They knew nothing of the plots those creatures harboured in their ugly heads. It was time for them to take action against the children who had defeated their mistress. They would bring Narnia to its knees alongside its precious Kings and Queens. They would all pay the price of tampering with things they could not possibly understand. Starting with the traitor.

Now that sword practise had become routine, dragging herself from the luxurious four-poster bed was no problem at all for Zia. The anticipation of seeing Edmund put a spring in her step and made her way to the training ring. Today the rising sun cast a glorious golden glow over the gardens. The flowers seemed to turn up their leaves and stretch their stems to meet the gentle caress of the sun's light and warmth. Zia's mood refused to be dampened even when she rounded the corner and discovered the training ring empty and the Just King nowhere in sight. No matter how early she arrived, Edmund was always there first. The weaponry and other equipment were always set out and he would usually be warming up, otherwise leaning against the gate, ready with a grin and a "Good morning". His absence was certainly odd, but more likely down to a groggy start than a kidnapping or some other diabolical event.

Zia perched on the fence and gazed up, watching the sun begin its long journey across the sky. June was here and the Summer Solstice was on its way; the first Solstice she would spend with Edmund after five long years. Dancing Lawn would not be the same – the carnage would take a long time to repair – but the Narnians wouldn't let that ruin the festivities. There were plenty of other clearings in which to hold the dance and build the bonfire. Hopefully a clearing could be found that was large enough for her to avoid Maia and the rest of the Dryads and also keep Edmund out of the way of their judgemental stares and Maia's scathing remarks. Perhaps Breejit would allow her a dance and they could part on good terms. Their friendship, like Dancing Lawn, was permanently scarred, but that didn't mean it couldn't be restored to the point where conversation wasn't so upsetting.

Half an hour went by and still no Edmund. If he hadn't got himself out of bed by now then Zia would definitely have something to say about it. Her duties of guardianship didn't say anything about dragging lazy kings out of their beds, but her impatience convinced her to make an exception. With a huff she jumped off the fence and flounced back the way she had come. Climbing up the last flight of stairs she met Lucy heading the other way, down to the dining hall for breakfast.

"Good morning, Zia! Where are you going? Don't you have training with Edmund?"

"We're supposed to be training," Zia affirmed. "Edmund hasn't shown up yet. Is he still in bed?"

Lucy furrowed her brow. "I haven't seen or heard him leave his room since I've been up. He's usually awake before I am on training days."

"That's what I thought," Zia said before stomping up the rest of the stairs. Lucy followed her and winced at the force Zia used to knock on Edmund's door. "Edmund! Why aren't you down at the ring already? Hurry up!"

A quiet, agonised moan sounded on the other side of the door. Zia looked at Lucy and it was like looking in the mirror; their startled and confused expressions were exactly alike.

"Ed?" Lucy called softly. There was no reply. "Ed, we're coming in."

Edmund lay on his back with his chin on his chest, propped up against the mountain of cushions. The blankets only covered up to his waist; they were damp, like his linen nightshirt. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his skin was even paler than usual. He almost blended in with the white pillows.

Lucy hurried to her brother's side and immediately placed her hand on his forehead. An expression of shock appeared on her features. "We need Ivy," she said firmly.

Zia still stood by the door, taking in Edmund's suddenly feeble appearance. She gave a quick nod, turned on her heel and sprinted from the room. Minutes later she was back with Ivy struggling to keep up. The healer's arms were full of a tray littered with various bottles and pouches and scraps of material. Lucy moved to stand beside to Zia, clasping her warm fingers around the Dryad's. They watched Ivy measure Edmund's pulse, peer into his eyes and take his temperature. She sprinkled a few herbs into a clay bowl and handed it to Zia. She automatically began to rhythmically grind the herbs into a paste with a pestle.

The King's eyes opened and instantly found Zia's. He looked from her, then to Ivy and Lucy and back again, a confused light in his clouded eyes. "What…?" The word grated up his throat and he coughed painfully.

Lucy's hand found Zia's and squeezed. Edmund's eyes rolled and the lids slid down.

"What's wrong with him?" Lucy asked quietly as Ivy gently spooned a frothy mixture into Edmund's mouth. Some of it missed and dripped down his chin. Ivy scraped it off and dabbed at his face with a damp cloth.

"A high fever and, by the sounds of it a nasty cough – at the moment."

"What does that mean?" Zia asked.

"It means that the illness is not serious for the time being, but could get worse. At present I cannot identify the cause."

"Can't you do anything more?"

"I will do all I can. Other than that all we can do is pray to Aslan that nothing else develops."

Ivy packed up her equipment and left the room, promising to return in an hour or so to check on Edmund. Lucy filled the water jug on the bedside table and plumped the pillows until she was sure her brother was comfortable.

"Aren't you coming?"

Zia realised Lucy was already making to leave. "I must stay with him."

Lucy knew better than to argue. "Of course. Just let me know if you need anything." She kissed Zia's cheek and backed out of the room. The door clicked softly then everything was silent.

Desperate to keep busy, Zia wandered around the room, brushing specks of dust off the furniture and straightening out the curtains. The sky outside the window was a glorious azure colour. A murky fog seemed to hang over the four-poster bed where the King lay.

High fever … could get worse … cannot identify the cause…

Without her permission, Zia's feet took her to his bedside. His hand lay limp beside his supine form, palm up, as though seeking comfort from another hand. She unthinkingly slid her fingers into the gaps between his and squeezed. His eyelashes quivered as though he knew she was there. Careful not to disturb him, she climbed onto the bed and wriggled into a comfortable position far enough away so her body heat wouldn't affect his already abnormal temperature. Zia's head dropped back against the headboard. Where was Alex when they needed her?

Nina would have known what to do. She had never once lost her cool, calm composure in the face of an emergency. No illness that befell the forest creatures was too much for her to handle. She could have sorted out this mess in a matter of minutes. But she was gone, with no way of coming back. Sayalla and the other healers were miles away. Although she was knowledgeable, Ivy's experience was nothing compared to that of the entire clan's together. Someone, somewhere, would know how to help Edmund. But that someone wasn't there. With Edmund's future uncertain, there was no time to go searching all over Narnia for them.

"Aslan, I need your help," she whimpered aloud.

A warm breeze stirred the curtains and drifted across the room. It brought with it the smell of spring flowers and sweet grass. Dust motes stirred and chased each other across the stone floor like newborn lambs. It picked up strands of her hair and tousled them gently. Zia inhaled deeply, breathing in the scents of spring. Something in the air made her skin tingle, as though an invisible presence had entered the room with the breeze.

"Aslan?" she whispered.

There was no reply. Something silky brushed across her cheek and then was gone. The delicious smells evaporated and the curtains were still once again.

When she looked across at Edmund, she was startled to see his eyes open. They were looking at her face, but they were glazed and far away. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile although even that small movement seemed a lot of effort for him. She squeezed his hand again and he faintly squeezed back.

"I could have sworn I just…" he started, but was cut off by a violent cough.

"I know," she said, "I felt it too. He's here somewhere, Ed. I just wish he'd tell me what to do. I need to know how to help you." She gazed at him pleadingly. "Tell me how you feel."

He coughed again. "Like someone has their hands wrapped around my windpipe - most likely a Minotaur."

Reaching over, she gently picked a knot out of his hair with her fingers. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. Before long his hand was slack inside hers. He was weak; he had only been awake for ten minutes at the most. Whatever affected him was tightening its hold by the minute. If only the illness was as easy to cure as the bruise from when he'd kicked that wall…

She sat upright. How could she have been so stupid? If she couldn't cure him, she could at least find out what was causing the illness. She'd been shown how within the first six months of her training. Ivy must have been taught differently otherwise she'd have already done it. Grabbing his hand tightly between both of hers, she closed her eyes and concentrated on visualising.

What she saw shocked her. Edmund's body was a battlefield; every cell fought against an unknown intruder. His heart struggled to beat strongly enough for the blood to move through his veins. The insides of his lungs were coated with thick, sticky mucus. The ugly scene unfolded behind her eyes like a battle map; various splodges of colour represented the weakening soldiers of his immune system and the infantry of the toxin. There was more than one type of invading bacteria. One set was decidedly smaller and centred mainly around the lungs, but the larger, more brutish ones seemed to be everywhere, attacking every living tissue in sight. The bacteria grew more abundant the deeper she dug, searching for the commander of the onslaught. Images and possibilities thundered through her brain. She suddenly felt faint.

A soft knock at the door caused her to jump. The picture vanished. Beside her, Edmund's eyes were still closed, his breaths shallow but even. There came another knock then the door was pushed open slightly. Light from the corridor outside caught Peter's hair and it shone like a halo about his head.

"Oh! Peter!" Zia scrambled off the bed and hurried to curtsey. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise -"

He held up a hand. "I came with Ivy to check on Edmund."

The older Dryad stepped into the room with her tray and immediately began fussing over Edmund. She repeated all of her methodical checks whilst Zia and Peter watched, not looking at each other and neither saying a word. "I'm afraid he doesn't look any better," Ivy concluded with an apologetic smile. "I'll mix up some more medicine right away." Leaving her tray on the bedside table, she hurried from the room.

"Were you planning on staying with him tonight?"

Surprised by the abrupt question and the sharpness in the High King's eyes, Zia took a step back. "I thought it would be best if I remained at his bedside, Sire, in case his condition worsens."

"I have already requested that Ivy keep watch over him tonight. She is more experienced in the medical field than you are."

That sounded to Zia like an insult. "I am his appointed guardian, Your Majesty. It is my duty to be by his side."

"I relieve you of your duty tonight."

Her fingers flexed. They stared each other down across Edmund's bed where he lay oblivious. Peter's hands were folded behind his back, his posture ramrod straight. There was no teasing glint in his eyes, only cold, hard seriousness.

Digging her nails into her palms, Zia lowered her head. "As you wish, Sire."

His eyes followed her movements as she made her way slowly to the door. She left with the icy orbs burning the back of her neck and frustrated tears stinging her eyes.

Rain hammered on the castle roof, echoing hollowly down the empty corridors. Lit torches hung in braziers on the walls, replacing natural daylight with an eerie, flickering glow that drew the peaceful faces in the stained-glass windows into grotesque grins. Shadows lurked in corners and behind tapestries. The rumble of thunder masked the sound of Zia's footsteps as she hurried from the infirmary, clutching a blanket to her chest, although she still kept as quiet as she could. Some of the servants were very light sleepers.

The room was pitch dark but at least the drumming was somewhat muffled. A streak of lightning momentarily revealed Ivy draped in an armchair next to the bed. Her head lolled to one side and her hands rested on the open pages of the book in her lap. Zia spread her blanket on the floor on the opposite side of the bed to Ivy, moving silently so as not to wake her or the sleeping King. Zia was close enough to the bed to hear the rustle of the sheets as Edmund twitched in his sleep even over the insistent rain. She would sleep easier now.

The last thing she told herself before she drifted off was that she'd wake up early enough to flee the room before either of them woke up or the High King arrived to check on his brother.