Part Twenty Six: The Blood of Adam
"You're her sister?" Eve cried out fearfully.
"Oh, but you needn't worry. She and I were very different." The honey smooth voice had calmed Eve thought she fought against its power.
"But the White Witch killed you with the Deplorable Word!"
"My sister did not know the extent of my powers. I have powers that she never dreamt of. It takes more than a curse to kill me." The soup suddenly felt scalding hot on Eve's throat. She coughed and set the platter down.
"How did you survive?" she asked warily.
The witch's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and she crooked her long finger to stroke the rabbit's fur. Eve cringed slightly. "It's really a simple matter," the witch said finally in a matter-o-fact tone. "I have the power of turning objects into another form, as you have seen." Eve's eyes dropped to the rabbit. "My sister had the ability to turn objects into stone. When my sister said the Deplorable Word, I did two things. First," she held up a finger, "I turned one of the already dead citizens of Charn into me and second, I turned myself into a moth." She held up a second finger. "My sister suspected nothing, and I escaped with my life. Only recently was I able to come to Narnia. Life is so dreary as an insect."
"Why did you say you are the rightful Queen to Cair Paravel? King Caspian is; a son of Adam."
The Black Witch let out a peal of laughter. "Silly child, that is not the truth. Do you think Aslan would want a mere mortal ruling over such a glorified city as Cair Paravel?"
"What about High King Peter, and Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy? They were all human," Eve defended.
"Then why did they leave Cair Paravel to its ruin? By the hands of men might I add."
"They didn't leave by choice!"
"Oh, and you're one to contradict me on history? Tell me, how long have you been in Narnia?" Eve didn't reply. Instead she glared out the window, trying in vain to see more than the darkness. "Eat your soup, it will get cold." Not wanting to upset the witch, Eve ate. A strange feeling began to creep over her; a feeling of contentment. She no longer felt angry towards the witch. Eve tried to shake away this feeling, but it only grew stronger the more she tried to fight it. She noticed the witch smiling slightly at the corners of her mouth. Eve tried to say something, but all she could think of was how delightfully pretty this woman was. She was kind and stopped the wild men from hurting her. No! That's wrong, she's evil! Eve tried to fight back, but there was no stopping the power of the witch. Soon Eve felt herself smiling, and the witch's smile grew. "Good. We're almost there," she said quietly.
. . .
Turrets of black climbed the sky, jabbing into the storm clouds and heralding the Black Witch's fortress. The journey had taken most of the night and now, just as morning was breaching Ettinsmoor, they arrived at their destination. The carriage stopped and the Black Witch got out in a flourish of black robes. She motioned for Eve to follow, and the girl did without question. The sweeping plains around them were empty, but something ominous lay on the horizon. The black line edged closer and closer until the forms of men could be seen. The towers of the castle seemed to frown down on Eve with an onerous power.
"Now then," said the witch, leaning close to Eve's ear. "You see those men?" she asked. Eve nodded, straining her eyes. "They're my army." The witch smiled, eyes glowing with a maniacal humor. "All of them, once wild men, transformed into an unconquerable army. Not even your dear Caspian and the Narnians will be able to stand up to it. You see, I've made it quite impossible. I can make anything I like, and I have made this army strong enough to conquer Aslan's land itself." Eve managed a stiff nod. Whatever magic had warmed her to the witch had now worn off, but she felt that it would be rash to do anything to upset her. "I almost feel sorry for those poor creatures…if only they had not tried to stand up to me. No one stands up to me. You see, Eve, Jaira, the Black Witch, is even more powerful than her sister. I have strengths where my sister had weaknesses."
"And what of your weaknesses?" Eve muttered. The witch pretended not to hear.
"Yes, Eve, soon it will all be mine. With your help of course." Eve's eyes snapped up.
"With mine?" she asked, her voice high pitched with fear. "Why me?"
"Because, dear child, you and you alone are the one who holds the key to all universes. Once I take over Narnia, what is going to stop me from taking over everywhere? Your own universe, perhaps…" She laughed and lost herself in her own thoughts.
"The ring, you mean?" Eve asked sharply.
"Yes. You see, child, the ring holds the power to take you to other places. Without it you would not have come to Narnia. Your belief in such things is minimal, so why else would you come?" A twinge of guilt ran through Eve. She could not deny the witch's words. "I need the ring, but I also need you for something. There is a little plan of mine that only you can set in motion." Eve stepped back.
"If you're expecting me to do anything to hurt the Narnians or Caspian…-"
"Oh, no, no, no! Of course not, dear one. I would not ask such a thing of you. I only need you to watch over my castle in my stead. While I'm away at war," she added at the look of confusion on Eve's face.
"Me? You can't possibly trust me…?"
"I trust that you won't do anything to upset me." The witch smiled sweetly. Eve's lips tightened as she fought back a retort. "First you will hand me the ring." Eve set her jaw. "You will hand me the ring!" Eve slowly undid the fastening to her necklace and handed the ring to the witch. She felt like crying when the witch smiled again. "Thank you, my dear. I knew you would give it to me, just like that. Now, I must meet my army. You are to go into my castle and sit for me and wait." She turned to leave, but then stopped and addressed Eve once more. "When I get back from war, I shall bring you your King's head on a platter." At this Eve screamed in rage, or rather, tried to. Suddenly she could not find her voice. She tried to speak again, but with no luck. Letting herself fall to the ground, Eve watched silently as the Black Witch strode quickly toward the army that would destroy all of Narnia.
. . .
The inside of the fortress was dark and cold. Eve found no comfort in it anywhere, so she sat on the floor next to the Queen's throne and wept silently. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks blotched when the Black Witch finally returned. "Dear child, have you been crying? Whatever could cause such tears?" The smile on the witch's face was too much. Eve sprang to her feet and lunged at her, trying to claw at her face. The next thing she knew she was on the floor a few feet away, fresh blood oozing down the side of her head. "Foolish child." The witch sat down on her throne and snapped her fingers. Instantly two tall men wearing black suits were at her side. "Fetch me the boy!" she cried out and with low bows, the men disappeared into a corridor toward the right. Eve sat up and stared at the witch with hatred and anger burning in her eyes. She tried to speak again, but in vain. "Now," said the witch. "I have already informed the Narnians and your dear King of your whereabouts and your change of allies." Eve would have cried out if she could have, but all she accomplished was a wide-mouthed gape. "King Caspian was very distraught indeed to learn that you had been working for me all along and that you had only used him." Fresh tears sprang to Eve's eyes as realization hit her. Betrayal. In Caspian's mind she had betrayed him. That was all part of the prophecy. But it still said that only I will hold the power to decide Narnia's fate…but how?
"Ah, good, bring him forth. I need the final touch to my strength; the blood of Adam." Eve's eyes lifted slowly. There before her, stood a kneeling man. He had dirty blonde hair and tanned skin. Eve leaned closer, recognizing the long scar that ran down the side of the man's face. Philip? Eve's heart beat crazily against her chest as she recognized the man as her own brother. He raised his head and looked straight at Eve.
"Eve?" he asked, his tone astonished and his mouth agape. "What are, how…-?"
"Silence, we have time for introductions and story exchanges later. Now I need a few drops of your blood, if you please." Eve knew that Philip would stand up to her, he always stood up to everyone, but to her surprise and dismay, Philip grinned and held out his arm.
NO! Eve mouthed to him, but Philip's eyes were set on the witch, the goofy grin still in place. The witch withdrew a long knife from inside her robes. She cut a shallow line into Philip's arm and let the blood drip into a golden goblet. When she was done, one of the black-clothed men brought forward a clean bandage. Eve noticed that Philip's other arm was already bandaged. To her horror, the witch lifted the cup up to her blood red lips and drank deeply. "Ah," she sighed, "the blood of Adam."