John went to the fire and stoked it. Then he stood staring into it.

"I guess everyone is upset with me," said Gar.

John pushed the logs with the poker. Some sparks shot out. "Yes, I suppose that's a fair assumption." He turned to look at Gar who was sitting on the sofa. "It sounded as if you were intending to kill Rabadash. I don't know what that is in your world, but here that's called murder and you can hang for it."

Gar gulped. "Is hanging what I think it is?"

"Yes," answered John. "Not something I would wish on you or anyone else. Gar, how can you be so stupid?"

"Stupid?! How dare you call me stupid."

"Are you really considering murder? And, I might add, murdering the father and mother of the woman you love. That's not a way to win her heart."

"It really wasn't my idea," said Gar. "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to be involved in that part. She, my mother, only told me that after he was dead I would be king."

"And who was going to kill him? Who was going to kill his wife? Your mother, I suppose. I think you need to stop defending this woman. Wake up and smell the coffee."

"What does your drink have to do with it? She is my mother."

"She is a sinister traitor, if you ask me. She stole you away from your parents. Raised you to hate the people you should love. And why? Why did she do this? So she could be queen. She was using you."

"Those are harsh words."

"It's true though, isn't it?" asked John. "Listen, Gar. You and I have become friends. But I will not defend you if you in any way attack Rabadash or plot to overthrow him."

"I know. I know," said Gar. "I feel so all alone."

"You are alone as long as you proclaim yourself as an ally to that woman."

"That woman is my mother."

"No, that woman is a criminal who kidnapped you as an infant and brainwashed you to do her bidding."

"What is brainwashed?"

"It is when someone imposes their beliefs on you and you no longer think independently. There are some cases of prisoners of war being brainwashed. In a way, you were taken as a prisoner, before you could form your own beliefs. And this woman, you call your mother, has imposed her beliefs and agenda onto you, to use you for her own gain."

Gar was quiet. "You think I can't think for myself?"

"It looks like this woman has had a very strong influence on you," said John. "Look at Alyndra. She had a similar experience. Stolen away. Raised by a king in another world. Yet, she is able to see him for what he is. And that man did not even contrive to steal her from her parents. He simply took her on when she was a defenseless infant. Yet you, knowing the truth, cannot accept that the woman you call mother is evil."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say what?" asked John.

"I didn't say that she wasn't evil," said Gar. "I just have a hard time turning away from her."

John furrowed his brows. "You have a hard time turning away from someone you know is evil? Is that what you meant?"

Gar gulped. "I suppose I did. I doesn't sound too good, does it?"

"No, Gar, it doesn't sound good at all. In fact, if you take part in her scheme, it makes you no better than her. That makes you evil too."

"My mother is a most misunderstood woman," said Gar. "She may not be perfect but she loves me."

"If that is love," said John. "Then I want nothing to do with it."

Mrs. Rogers looked at the clock. Her scones would be finished soon.

"Tumnus, tell me. Do you think it will work?"

Tumnus was sittting in the infamous chair that Mrs. Rogers had sewn to Jadis. It now had a new cover. "Will what work?"

"Do you think that Gar will ever come around?" asked . "If only Susan were here. Or Col. Maybe they could convince him."

"Convince him of what?" asked Tumnus. He lit his pipe. "Convince him that they are his parents? He seems to believe that. Or do you mean convince him that the woman who raised him is wrong?"

"All of the above," said Mrs. Rogers. "I have a feeling that I need to be doing something. Only I don't know what it is."

An alarm sounded from the kitchen. "I think you need to take the scones out of the oven."

"Yes, of course." She went to the kitchen. Then an idea hit her. She ran back into the living room.

"Tumnus, I've got it. Oh, I've got it. I've got it. I've got it!"

"You've got what?" asked Tumnus. "I don't see any scones. If you don't get them out of the oven they'll burn." He put down his pipe and went to the kitchen. Picking up an oven mitt, he removed the scones.

Masha was changing the dressings on Cyan's arms.

Masha pulled off another bandage. Cyan let out a scream. "Isn't there any way that you can make it more comfortable?"

"I'm sorry. No." Masha smiled and continued to remove the dressings. Cyan was getting weaker and weaker every day.

Suddenly, Cyan sat up. "Stop! Stop immediately. Don't remove another dressing." She put her bleeding hands on Masha's shoulders. Masha recoiled.

"You've got to take me somewhere. Get your carriage ready. We must go tonight."

Masha tried to push Cyan back down onto the bed. "You're getting hysterical. Calm down. It's not that bad."

"I'm not hysterical," said Cyan. "I'm very serious. I just remembered something from years ago." Cyan attempted to get up. "You will have to help me. Let me lean against you."

"You are in no condition to make a journey."

"Oh, but I must. You see it will be my cure. Masha, I'm about to be rejuvenated."