The long awaited update... Thailand Estel, there's lots of sort-of book-verse in this chapter. Also a lot of references to the faith that we share. :) Jill is very perceptive. Hope you like it!

I will confess, the main reason that this chapter has taken so long was because of the Isengard scene. I was trying to stay true to the book (because seriously? that is so not how Saruman died!) and it was pretty hard to do that without directly quoting everything that was said. I think I found a pretty good middle ground, with only a few direct quotes - but I guess we'll see what y'all think!

Adara waited after Edmund left the link with her answer for Sam. For a while, nothing happened. She could feel his consciousness on the edge of the link. Suddenly, however, everything changed.

Edmund's consciousness became dark, and seemed to almost pulse with a terrible foreign power. She could only just hear her brother's mind cry for Aslan, before it was drowned out by a great roaring voice that sent shivers up her spine. She couldn't make out the words, but she did hear Edmund shout out in defiance – and his cry came through loud and clear.

"I will not yield to you."

That time, when the evil voice spoke, Adara could understand it. "You will yield. You will always yield. You belong to the darkness!"

Edmund once again defied the power that tried to take him. "I belong only to my King!"

"Oh, Edmund. Have you really forgotten? After everything that you did – you belong to me. And I am of the darkness."

Adara gasped. That voice – it was not the deep roar that had spoken thus far. It was a soft, smooth, alluring voice – and it was a voice that Adara knew only too well. Jadis the White Witch had somehow returned.

Adara could not hear Edmund's reply.

"Ah, but I can live again. One drop of Adam's blood, Edmund. That is all I require. The same blood runs through your veins."

Adara tensed, but again could not hear her brother's voice.

"There is no wall of ice to stop me now."

The three who waited in the mind-link were all but holding their breath; each one silently crying out to Aslan, praying that he would give Edmund wisdom and strength.

To her surprise, Adara was able to hear his reply this time.

"I command you, accursed. Begone!"

"You have no authority to command me." Snarled the voice of the Witch.

Edmund's reply was immediate. "I, King Edmund the Just of Narnia, command you, Witch, to begone. Sleep in death until the day of your judgment, and come no more to trouble the worlds! This command I give in the name of Aslan, Great King over all Kings, who paid the price for my own treachery in my stead, who crowned me King over his land of Narnia and seated me on my throne at Cair Paravel, to whom alone I belong, and whom alone I serve. Begone, Witch, and try me no more! Justice shall never serve the darkness!"

There was a terrible cry, and the ringing clash of blades, and then the great roar of a Lion. All was silent after that. The strange, pulsing presence left Edmund's consciousness.

The silence continued. Although they could feel that Edmund's mind was entirely his own once more, they had no idea what had happened. Was Edmund hurt? Why didn't he come to tell them what happened?

Finally Peter called for him tentatively. "Edmund?"

The response was fairly quick.

"I'm here."

"What happened?" Adara asked quickly. "Are you alright?"

Edmund chuckled. "As I told those here, aside from the fact that my head feels like I've had a horse dancing on my skull – I'm fine."

"Edmund, was that… Was that really the Witch we heard?" Peter asked.

There was a brief silence.

"You heard all of that?" Edmund sounded surprised.

"No." Adara corrected. "Only some of it. We heard the Ring speak to you, and then the voice changed to that of Jadis. We heard some of your answers to them, but not all."

Again, a short silence.

"Ah. Well… You know what my answers would have been, I assume. Is there any point in me repeating them?"

"Not really." Peter agreed. "But Edmund, are you sure you are alright?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Don't tell Lu what just happened, ok? She'll freak out. Speaking of Lu, I told her I'd talk to her this evening if I could. How many people do you think we can have in the connection at once?"

John smiled gently and offered Susan his arm.

"I just don't understand, John." Susan murmured as he drew her down a secluded path in the garden at the consulate. "After everything that Mum and Dad went through with Peter, now my two little siblings think it would be a good idea to vanish as well? And of all the nonsense, saying that they are going to help Peter drive out the darkness in some made up world, fighting alongside an imaginary friend we made up as children!"

John sighed softly, and led her into a secluded part of the garden. "They are grieving, Susan. Every person deals with grief in different ways. You all led difficult lives, what with the war and your father fighting in it, and so they cling to the games you used to play as children. Those memories make them feel safe. They created a place where they are in charge; they can control what happens in their own imaginations. Especially for Lucy, since she is the youngest, this would give them something secure. Now, after Peter's disappearance, they are clinging more and more to the only things they have that make them feel safe."

"But I don't do that! Why do they have to?"

"I don't know exactly, darling. You have always been the most sensible one of your family – perhaps that is part of it. They turned to childish games for security, but you didn't need that help. You have enough confidence in yourself, perhaps? All I know is that every person deals with fear and grief differently. It is no surprise that you deal with it differently than your siblings. It is important to understand, I think, that they are not trying to hurt you, love. They simply want you to be part of their secure place."

"Should I play along, then?" Susan asked, greatly distressed.

"No, I don't think you should. Eventually they have to understand that Narnia is only a safe place. They can continue to go to that safe place if they want, but they have to understand that it is only a safe place for their emotions, not real life. I think that if you play along, it will only prolong this phase they are in. Sooner or later they will realize that you have been right and trying to help them all along, and they will be ready to come to you rationally for the help you are so desperate to give them."

Unknown to the couple talking so seriously, Jill was hidden behind the hedge. On hearing this conversation, she frowned and stood up.

"That's enough, John!" They whirled in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, sounding amused and irritated at the same time.

"We don't know what you're playing for – not yet. But we will figure it out. We're onto you, you scoundrel! And if you have any wisdom in that head of yours, you will realize that Edmund is not someone to be messed with when he's angry and you'll back off."

"Jill!" Susan exclaimed. "How dare you speak to John like this? He has never been anything but good to my family and me. You and Edmund with your conspiracy theories! I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, and John would never hurt me anyway. Now, stop your spying and leave us be!"

"Susan." Jill had an intense look on her face. "Who matters more to you – John, or Edmund?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Edmund dearly loves you. Even if you truly believe that he is deluded into believing in a 'safe' place he's created for himself, shouldn't you place your own brother over a friend? Mightn't you get farther with helping Edmund 'get over' his delusional beliefs if you listened to him about John? Or anything, for that matter? How is he supposed to let go of his 'safe' place and trust you to be a secure place for him to feel safe if he sees that you don't care what he thinks, you don't listen to anything he says, you always brush him off? Who matters more to you, Susan, John or Edmund?"

"Jill, I don't believe this is any of your concern. And such things shouldn't be discussed in front of one of the parties in question."

"Isn't John your friend?" Jill challenged. "Doesn't he care about you? Because if he really does care about you, he won't mind that you put Edmund first. In fact, he should encourage you to do so, and be happy when you do! So, tell me – who matters more? Who will you put first?"

"Did it occur to you that perhaps I love them both?"

"Do you? Do you really love Edmund, Susan?" Jill asked quietly.

"Of course I do! He is my brother!" Susan rejoined angrily.

"Really? It doesn't seem like you do." Jill mused.

"What are you saying? I love Edmund!" Susan cried.

"When you love someone, you put their needs first. That's all love really is, putting someone else's needs before your own. You used to understand that – remember those 'games' you used to play? The ones where Aslan gave his own life to save Edmund? Yeah, those games? You used to understand that kind of love. After all, you helped make up those stories, right? But now all you understand is a fuzzy feeling, a fluffy emotion that you call love. Do you love Edmund enough to put his needs first?"

Susan stared at Jill, gaping. She stammered a little, trying to come up with a response to the younger girl who was staring at her so – knowingly.

"I-I… B-but… Does he? Does he love me enough to put my needs first? Does he love me enough to let go of his dislike of John? For me?"

Jill sighed and shook her head slightly. "Oh, Susan. Are you so blind? He loves you so much… He's done his best for you. For your sake, he has refrained from throwing John out. Literally. And he talked Eustace out of it too. For your sake. Because even though he doesn't trust John – with good reason, I might add – he sees that John is the only reason you have any happiness. But at the same time, he's trying to protect you –"

"Don't." Susan cut her off sharply. " I don't want to hear it. I'm sick and tired of Edmund's suspicions. If he doesn't love me enough to let it go, I don't think there is any good in my trying to reach him."

Jill watched her for a moment, her gaze cold and calculating. Then she said evenly, "So, your love is conditional?"

Susan opened her mouth to retort, but Jill cut her off.

"Tell me, Susan, why is everything about you? 'If Edmund doesn't love me enough, I don't see why I should do anything for him.' Why does the world revolve around you?"

Once again she cut off the older girl as she was about to reply.

"I'll tell you why, Susan. Your life is all about you for several reasons. First, you have cut out of your life everything that could give it some sort of meaning. Your family, your home, your God – everything. Now, desperate to give your life some sort of meaning again, you have convinced yourself that you are the meaning.

"Second, because you deny Aslan's love and have removed yourself from His care, you feel utterly alone and unloved. But we humans need others, and we certainly need love. So your life is all about yourself because you want someone to notice you, pay attention to you, love you – but they have to love you on your own terms, or you won't count it love.

"Third, you miss being important. You miss the balls and the parades, you miss having foreign princes falling at your feet, you miss the power and influence – you miss being royal, you miss being Queen. And when Aslan told you that you wouldn't be able to return to Narnia, it hurt – didn't it. That's why you cut everything related to Narnia out of your life, even your siblings, because you were (and are still) hiding from that pain. But at the same time, you can't erase the memories, and you miss it all. So you try to have the same importance here that you did there, and suddenly everything's all about Susan, isn't it.

"And fourth, your life is all about you because you want revenge. You are mad at Aslan for saying that you couldn't go back, and so you got your petty revenge on him by replacing him with yourself. Instead of Aslan filling his rightful place as God of your life, you are trying to fill that spot yourself. And if you are god of your life, your life is all about you."

With that, Jill turned away. "You have forsaken everything you once believed in. You have chosen not to love. But you cannot escape from him, Susan. Aslan has not forsaken you and will not forsake you. He loves you still, and he will never stop calling you back to himself. Only you can make the choice to come to him. Peter is in Arda with Adara, and Edmund and Lucy have followed them there. Eustace and I will go too; Aslan has spoken to us as well. Soon there will be no one here to protect you from John, or from yourself. It is not too late Susan. If you want to be the Gentle Queen again – you know where to find the Lion. You know how to pray. And we are all praying for you – praying you will make the right choice. We love you, Susan. Never forget that. Goodbye."

She disappeared down the path, leaving a very confused Susan behind with a strangely silent John.

The King's company gathered their gear and ate their meager breakfast as they prepared to move again. They would reach Isengard by mid-day. Adara sat between her nukar, and all three of them were silent as they ate. The men of Rohan watched them from a distance, and did not disturb them. They were seen as enigmas, and while they were individually dearly loved (Peter and Aragorn were, at least, Adara not so much since she never spoke) collectively they were a strange group that should probably be avoided.

All three were thinking of what they had heard as they travelled the evening before. It had disturbed Peter considerably to hear the Witch' voice here in Arda, and he finally voiced his thoughts aloud to his sister and adopted brother.

"How could she be here?" He asked quietly, staring at the bread in his hands. "She is dead. How could she return?"

"I don't think she did, Petri." Adara answered, giving the conclusion to which she had come herself, as she lay awake in the early hours of the morning. "Evil is evil, no matter what its physical manifestation is. Jadis was one manifestation, and Sauron another. But just as Aslan can take the form of all good things, evil can take the form of all other evils. Sauron simply saw his fear of the Witch, and tried to use it to his advantage. She is dead, and cannot return to trouble us. Aslan killed her forever. But the evil behind Jadis is the same evil behind the Eye."

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully; even though he had not personally witnessed the work of the Witch, he knew everything Adara could teach him about her evil and the dark time of her reign. He had instantly guessed the chilling voice for what it was, even without Adara and Peter's reactions.

Peter considered Adara's words, and then smiled wanly. "I guess you're right, Ara. Which is both good and bad. In some ways, I'd rather she replaced Sauron – she is an evil we are familiar with. And if Sauron saw Ed's fear of her, what else could he see? Edmund's confrontation may have been more dangerous even than we thought. Yet it is a comfort to think that she can never return."

"Whether it's good or bad doesn't really make any difference does it? We have to do our best either way, and no amount of speculation will change it. You may be right about the danger, but I do not think Aslan would let Sauron see something he should not have. And it is good that he tried to use Jadis against Edmund, that is one mistake he will never repeat. Whatever evil may try to draw him, he would never return to the Witch."

Both of her nukar nodded. At that moment came the call came to mount up. As she had ridden with Aragorn yesterday, Adara mounted Kemen behind Peter. The rest of their ride to Isengard passed in silence for the three, although most of the men around them talked quietly.

Suddenly, broken stone could be seen ahead of them through the gaps in the trees. Perched on the stone were two small figures. Adara gasped softly, and smiled. Taking shadow-form, she transferred to Pippin's shadow. There she took human-form again, startling both hobbits.

"Hello, lads. I'm glad to see you're alive and well." She greeted them, smiling gently.

"Hiljar!" They both cried, enveloping her in a huge hug.

They hadn't known her very well, but they loved her for risking her own life to protect them all at Weathertop. They had gotten a little closer to her during the trek to Lothlorien after Gandalf's death, as well. But then she had disappeared overnight, and no one had ever explained to them where she went. When they asked, only Boromir would answer, and he told them something about Astî, which neither he nor they really understood.

"Where did you go?" Pippin asked. "No one would tell us anything, when we asked them, Aragorn always walked away, and Legolas and Gimli both said that it was his to tell. Boromir said something about Astî, but we didn't know what he meant, and I don't think he really knew either."

Adara laughed softly, lowering her voice as the King's company drew closer.

"I did go to Astî. It is my native land. I will explain later – for now, I have a request. I need you to think of me as a man again. I am passing as a man for the time being, and only those present of the Fellowship have any knowledge of my true gender. I also am speaking only in the ear of one of my friends again, to hide my voice. You will do this for me?"

They nodded as one. "Of course we will, Hiljar."

She laughed very softly. "I swear, you two have the mindset of nukar."

"Of what?" Pippin asked. Both hobbits were clearly confused.

Adara chuckled and murmured, "Never mind. The King's company was now close enough that she could speak no louder than a whisper.

"You young rascals!" Gimli cried from his perch behind Legolas on Arod. "A merry chase you've led us on, and here we find you feasting – and smoking!"

Pippin grinned up at him. "We are sitting on the field of battle, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good." He informed the dwarf. Gimli's mock-angry expression changed immediately. "Salted pork?"

The members of the Fellowship all grinned, except for Gandalf who muttered, "Hobbits" under his breath. The rest of those present shared confused glances.

"We're under orders from Treebeard," Merry spoke up "who's taken over management of Isengard."

Moments later, the hobbits were riding with Gandalf and Aragorn, and Adara was mounted behind Peter again. The horses were carefully picking their way through the shallow water surrounding the tower of Orthanc.

"Young master Gandalf." Treebeard hummed. "I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone – I can handle. But there's a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." Treebeard and Gandalf were clearly friends of old.

"And there he must stay, under your guard." Gandalf informed the ent.

"Oh, let's just have his head and be done with it." Gimli growled.

"No!" Adara cut him off in a low voice. "He has no power anymore."

Gandalf nodded back at her. The men around her had only barely heard her words, but somehow he had from the front of the column.

He is a wizard, after all.

"A warrior must learn not only when to kill, Gimli, but when to show mercy." She added even more softly, not wishing to humiliate the dwarf in front of the men around him.

"Show yourself." Aragorn whispered.

"Be careful." Adara told him. "He has no power, and is defeated – but he may still be dangerous."

"Then why spare him?" Gimli grumbled.

"We need him alive." Peter said grimly. "We need him to talk."

"And therein lies the danger." Gandalf said, turning on his horse. "Saruman has ever been a master of words, a weaver of spells simply by the sound of his voice. His power is gone, but his voice remains. I would not expose all the members of this company to his poison. Theoden King – choose which of your men you would have by your side. The rest must return to the broken wall, and there await our coming."

This was done, and a much smaller group continued on to the tower.

When Saruman finally showed his face, he took most of them by surprise. His tone was gentle, and seemed to be woven through with a sort of enchantment that would make a man take leave of his senses and agree to anything, only to keep hearing the beautiful voice and please the speaker.

He softly asked why they had disturbed him, giving the vibe that he was being extremely patient after the many unwarranted injuries dealt to him.

Peter and Adara exchanged a look, recognizing the spell that was being used. Edmund had reluctantly told them some of his first encounter with the Witch – though he never really told them much of his time as her lackey, and later her prisoner. They had never heard the exact words that Jadis had used to ensnare their little brother, but realized that Saruman's voice would do the exact same to any unwary person.

Saruman stared down at them, his face showing nothing but a grandfatherly longsuffering towards errant children. His eyes, however, told a different story. As he began to weave his arguments that he hoped would topple all resistance to him, he carefully snubbed Gandalf.

"I know him much to well to hope that he will seek help or see the counsel that I can give."

"Watch as he tries to irritate Gandalf, and us too." Adara muttered. "He's playing carefully. Listen to his words, and not his voice, Petri. You'll see."

"I already do." Peter sounded both irritated and amused. He found Saruman to be exactly what he had expected – a pompous fool determined to come out on top despite his current circumstances. But he knew the effect of evil voices all to well, and it put him on edge.

Saruman cast them a curious glance. He didn't know who they were. Adara hid her smile, grateful that she was wearing her mask and Saruman could not learn her true identity.

Ignoring them again, Saruman focused his whole argument on Theoden.

"My old friend. Why have you not come before? Much have I desired to see you, mightiest king of western lands, and especially in these latter years, to save you from the unwise and evil counsels that beset you. Is it yet too late?"

Adara glanced at Theoden. He was staring up at Saruman. His mouth was open as though he would reply, but no words came. The voice of Saruman was weaving webs, and the King was close to being ensnared.

Peter came to the same conclusion. But perhaps if another voice spoke, it would break the spell. He began to laugh softly, but without mirth.

"I have heard such talk before, Saruman. Though I am not King of Rohan, perhaps I may speak. Your counsel has been given, now I give mine to you. Speak no more! Your words are poison and your webs thick – but I have seen you before. The same blackness lives inside your heart that I have encountered in far more powerful company. Poison and webs are nothing new or unfamiliar to me. I am not eloquent, but I say this to you! You call yourself Many Colors, and so you are. As your robes change color in different lights, so do you. Ever you change your allegiance, faithless one. Your own folly is your undoing. Had you remained true to any one master, you might have survived this darkness. Had you remained on the side of the light, we should have had much hope indeed, for you were once great. Had you remained a dog at the beck and call of your master in the dark land, you might have weathered our coming and been restored – should the Eye prevail, in the end. But you have bitten both hands that once fed you, and now nothing remains. On the one side you face imprisonment, and the undoing of all your works. On the other, you face torture and death. Choose wisely, now where you stand."

"And who is this youth that speaks so out of turn?" Saruman asked, politely. But his eyes were angry. "You come at me with sticks, boy. Am I a dog, then, that you will thrash me so in your arrogance? I will not hear the words of a child in a world that must be peopled by men. Theoden King, will you not reason with me?"

Gimli growled suddenly. "The words of this wizard stand on their heads." (A/N Line quoted directly from the book. It was just too good to not use! :) Some of this scene is paraphrased or directly quoted from the book. I don't put a disclaimer every time I quote something from one of the movies, so I'm not going to do that now. Just warning y'all.)

"Indeed." Peter said, amusement coloring his voice. "In the language of Orthanc, help means ruin, and saving means slaying, that is plain. But we do not come here to beg. You flatter greatly Saruman, but only as you think it will benefit you. I have been called worse things than boy, and not been angered. Your play fails, Saruman. You cannot so easily provoke me into betraying who I am, though you burn to know."

He had, of course, seen immediately what the wizard was up to.

"Peace!" said Saruman. He was very angry, and his façade as a kindly old man was made plain as it nearly fell. Quickly regaining control of himself, he spoke to the dwarf – but ignored Peter.

"I do not speak to you, stranger. Nor to the Gimli the dwarf, son of Gloin. I speak to the King of Rohan, who is my neighbor and has been my friend."

"And after all that he tries again." Adara muttered and Gimli grumbled under his breath about being so dismissed.

"What do you say, Theoden King?" Saruman asked, kindly. "Will we have peace? Will you accept my help; receive the benefits of all my long years of learning? We can both profit from this, and our estates shall both come to fairer flower that ever before."

"Oh brother." Peter murmured. "Worse than some of the Calormenes. 'Fairer flower than ever before-' How does Ed put up with this foofarah?"

Adara smiled, but did not reply. Peter was perfectly capable in both a courtroom and on the battlefield, but he didn't enjoy the intricacies of words the same way Edmund did. Not only did Edmund enjoy talking his way around the stiffest ambassador, he was very good at it. Susan was fairly good at it as well, but she that was mostly because her beauty left many men dazzled and with little wit in her presence.

Neither did Theoden. He still seemed to waver. Seeing this, Eomer added his say. "My lord, listen to me! Is this not what we were warned of, both by Gandalf and our masked friend? Have they not both proven themselves valiant and trustworthy? Are they not friends of Rohan, both in word and deed? Here this old silver-tongued snake would make liars of them, and fools of all who have fought for Rohan in this battle. Have you forgotten your son? Remember Theodred, who died fighting the evil of this wizard. What aid can he give to Rohan? He only wishes to find an escape. Harken to me, my lord and uncle! Will you so dishonor the memory of your son, my cousin, by entertaining for even a moment the thought of agreeing with his murderer? It must not be so!"

"If we speak of poisoned tongues, what shall we say of yours, young serpent?" Saruman snapped, losing control of his kindly façade for a moment. No longer did his anger show only in his eyes, but also on his face. However, the moment was soon gone.

"You have your part, Eomer, son of Eomund. For you, the cries of the battlefield, and the ringing of swords – your part is valour in arms. And there you win great honour – as it should be. You are the arm of your king. Slay the ones that he names as enemies, and be content. Now you forget your part and meddle in things which you cannot understand. But perhaps-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Peter snapped. "Yes, we understand. You are great and mighty, we are all children compared to you, and none of us could ever even begin to understand your vast wisdom, so we'd better just roll over and do as you say. We get it, alright? You don't have to be patronizing. I've heard just about enough of this junk, and it tires my ears. King Theoden, the time has come for you to answer this oh-so-high-and-mighty fallen wizard. You have heard his empty talk, and you have heard the counsel of your trusted nephew, our wise dwarf, and myself – whose credentials you know. What say you?"

Theoden was silent a moment longer, but at last he spoke. "We shall have peace."

Gimli groaned, but Peter and Adara watched the King intently.

"Yes – peace. We will have peace when you have perished, and all the works you have bent your evil thought to. Yes, and the works of your dark master! You are a liar, Saruman, and a corrupter of men's hearts. You hold out your hand to me, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace. I am a lesser son of greater sires – but I do not need to bow and scrape before your false might. You may look for such servants elsewhere! I fear your voice has lost it's charm."

"It is well said." Peter cut in before Saruman could reply. "And a very good answer indeed. But I think that the snake's voice loses none of its charm – you merely learn to listen beyond false words, Lord King. And that is very well."

Saruman tried to answer Theoden with angry words, but Peter cut in again. "Will you continue to beat a dead horse, Saruman, as the saying goes in the land of my birth? You have heard your answer - do not weary the King with unnecessary words. For my part, I have passed the point of caring if you speak or not. The monotony of your voice is the same as the silence to me."

Adara smiled openly. It wasn't obvious, but she knew her brother well. He was saying to Saruman all the things he had always wished he could have said to the Witch, and enjoying it too.

"Foolish child! That you dare to speak so arrogantly! Your pride ceases to be amusing. You rave like a mad dog. There is only one way to treat with such a creature."

"You wish to put me down then, like a rabid beast? My pride may have ceased to amuse you, but yours amuses me endlessly. And how shall you put me down? You have no power left – certainly none that could harm me."

Saruman was listening intently. Peter laughed again.

"Don't bother. You can just keep wondering. That will give you a way to put your vast wisdom to use. Grima, perhaps, might guess at part of who I am, if he stopped for news anywhere before running to your side. The Westfold was full of tales – most wild imaginings. Still, these will give but little clue as to who I really am."

"And your silent companion?" Saruman challenged. "Will he not declare himself?"

Aragorn urged his horse forward. "The silent one is none of your concern. Do not trouble yourself about him – his name you will never guess."

"You give me brag and abuse. So be it. Crawl back into whatever hole you came from. I care not."

"I think you care a great deal." Peter smiled.

Saruman ignored him. "Still, it grieves me that one of my own order, whom I once thought to have some wisdom, now stoops to such company. I feel your shame for you, Gandalf, even if you feel it not. You are proud Gandalf, and not wholly without reason, for once your wisdom might have been great. You see many things, both far and near. Is your pride nothing? Will you not redeem your wisdom and take counsel with me – even now? I am not unwilling to forgive."

"Again with the flattery." Adara murmured in Peter's ear. He fought not to laugh. To someone who fought the spell of Jadis, Saruman and his words were nothing.

Gandalf stared up at his once-friend. "What do you want to say, Saruman? Did you not say all at our last meeting? Or perhaps you have things you wish to unsay?"

Saruman paused. "Unsay?" He pretended to be confused. "What can you mean? I tried to give you advice for your own good – but you did not listen. I have said you are proud, and I said truly. You do not love advice. You consider your own wisdom much more than others. But you erred, and did not see my true intentions. Yes, and deliberately too. And I, in my eagerness to persuade and perhaps save you, lost my patience."

"Is that what you call it?" Adara asked quietly, disguising her voice. Her words carried easily in the still air. "Losing patience?"

"He speaks." Saruman replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "But he answers a question that was not directed to him."

"He merely makes an observation." Adara retorted. "He may have come from lands so distant that you cannot know their names, but he thinks that everywhere, in every culture, locking one's guest away as a prisoner would be called something quite different than a simple loss of patience."

Saruman shook his head as if this impudent stranger was simply too ignorant and insignificant for him to deal with. He addressed Gandalf again.

"Come now, my old friend. Are we not Istari? Are we not above this rabble? Our order is high and ancient. Friendship between us now would benefit us both. We could still do much together, and leave the world better for our efforts. For the common good I am willing to forget what is passed, and call you friend again."

"For your common good, perhaps." Adara mused, just loud enough for all to hear.

Saruman gave her an angry glance but remained mostly focused on Gandalf. "What now? Will you not consult with me? Will you not come up?"

Gandalf looked up at Saruman, and he laughed. "Ah, Saruman! You missed your path in life. You should have been a jester and earned both your bread and beatings by mimicking the king's counselors."

"A most entertaining picture you paint, Gandalf." Peter smiled. "But time presses, and we have not got what we came for."

Gandalf controlled his laughter and sobered. "You think that I will come up, Saruman? When last I came to you for help, you were to be the jailor of Mordor. You would have held me until the dark lord saw fit to see to me himself. Nay, the guest who has escaped from the roof will think twice before he comes back in by the door! Will I come up? I do not think so. But listen to me, for the last time! Will you come down?"

Saruman started, and understanding filled his eyes. Now he knew what they had come for.

"Will I come down? Does an unarmed man come down to speak with robbers out of doors?" He mocked. "Ha. I hear you where I stand. You take me for a fool, but I am none. I do not trust you, Gandalf – and why should I? I know that the wild demons of the wood lurk about, waiting for your command, though they hide from me. And here with you are those whom I cannot name, who will not declare themselves. You will tell me that I am free to go, I suppose, and that you will not harm me? But why should I wish to leave?"

"You say you are no fool, yet it is foolish to answer me so. What reason is there for leaving? Look out your window, and you shall see some. Perhaps you will think of others. Some my friend whom you cannot name has mentioned already." Gandalf answered. "You have bitten both hands. You have attacked and made enemies of the Rohirrim, your neighbors. You have deceived Sauron, though not for long. Already your defeat and treachery will be known. He will not be pleased. And you shall indeed be free, but first I will have the Key of Orthanc, and your staff. These you shall not keep. After this, go where you choose – even straight to the enemy if you wish. But if you prove yourself by your good conduct, your staff and the Key will be returned in time."

"And next you will want the Keys of Barad-dur, perhaps? And the crowns of seven kings? And even the rods of the Five Wizards! I will not treat with you. Come back when you have seen reason – but do not bother to bring your new friends, this rabble, with you!" Saruman bit out.

He whirled with a flurry of his robes, and would have left them, but Gandalf looked at Adara.

"I have not the authority to destroy his staff in his hands, nor to render him powerless forever. I am White – but so has he been. Nor may I cast him from the order. This must be your work. As guardian and last of Anil, you may do this."

Adara nodded. She had anticipated such. To her had been given the task of driving Saruman from Theoden's mind. It was to be expected that ridding Middle Earth of the menace of his power was also her task.

Still, she wanted to sigh. So much for remaining hidden from the fallen wizard. For that matter, it was probably time for Theoden and Eomer to know more about her.

"Saruman!" She called, her voice commanding. Adara raised her hand, under her cloak, to the Dejen. She would need its power.

Flinching, Saruman turned and walked back, against his will, to the edge of the balcony he had been standing on. His eyes were wide.

"Would you like to know, Saruman, who I am? This other will remain hidden to you, so bother me not with questions. But I cannot stay hidden – not with what I must do."

Theoden and Eomer were both staring at her. Adara had not bothered to disguise her voice at all, and, as always, it showed her gender.

"You hold Gandalf – who is greater than you might have ever been – in scorn and derision. Perhaps you will show more respect to the one who drove you out of the mind of King Theoden? Gandalf cannot truly harm you. He is of your order, and so his power will not touch you. I however, am not so constrained. And my power is far more than Gandalf's. If there is one you ought to fear, it is I. But I am merciful. One more chance I give you – you were deep in the counsel of the enemy. Redeem yourself, and tell us what he plans."

Saruman stared down at her with hate in his eyes. He leaned over the edge of the railing and spat. She waved a hand and the wind blew it back in his own eyes.

"There is a saying." She said quietly. "If you spit in the air, it lands in your face. You scorn the boon you are offered? Very well. But you will wish that you had not. So much for mercy. Now I am hard and just. Your staff is broken, Curumo."

It withered away and turned to dust in his hands as she spoke. The stone fell to the ground, and she summoned it to her hand using water vapor.

"This stone I keep. Another shall rise, mightier than you. Wiser than you. Greater than you. Worthier than you. To him this stone shall be given, along with the power of Saruman. He shall have every reason to be proud, but shall be humble. He shall have every right to reign, but shall serve. He shall be a man of honor, whose words are true. No lie shall pass his lips. He shall have known darkness, that he may understand it – and better guard against it. No false deed or unjust judgment shall he ever make. All good will love him, and all evil shall fear him."

Everyone that rode with her stared at her, while Saruman ground his teeth. He heard the power in her voice, and recognized her words for what they were – a powerful prophecy.

Adara shook her head, dispelling the last vestiges of the power that gave her the ability to forespeak. She had gotten more than she bargained for, she realized, by calling on the power of her people.

"Curumo, you are cast from the order of the Istari."

Saruman cried out as though in pain, but Adara did not relent.

"Your power is stripped from you. All your works are undone. Yet I am not cruel. I leave you your life. Not for nothing am I called Compassionate. But I cannot force you to make something worthwhile of what time you have left. Only you can make that choice. Here you are, and here you shall stay. In your precious tower that you are so loathe to leave, you are imprisoned. It may be that you will learn true wisdom here among all your many books. Make of yourself what you will – but know that never again shall you be welcomed in that land across the sea. The shores of Valinor are forever closed to you."

Again Saruman cried out in pain. "You leave me nothing!"

"I leave you your life." Adara reminded him. "And also your voice. For that you were born with, and I cannot take it from you. Not nothing, then, do I leave you with. It is precious little, but for you I do not doubt that it will prove more than enough."

Again the hint of prophecy colored her voice. Aragorn shuddered, wondering what she was foretelling. From the look in her eyes, he guessed that she knew no more than him.

Above them rang out an angry cry. Something round and black fell from a window higher in the tower, cast down, no doubt, by Grima. It just missed Saruman's head, and landed on the step below, also barely missing Gandalf. So hard did it hit, or else so heavy were the enchantments on it, that it cracked the strong ancient stone of Orthanc. The thing itself, however, was unharmed and rolled away into the water. Pippin slipped down the side of Aragorn's horse and ran off to retrieve it.

When he caught sight of what the hobbit was carrying, Gandalf's face became stern.

"I'll take that, Pippin my lad. Quickly now."

Reluctantly, Pippin handed it over. As Aragorn pulled the hobbit back onto the horse, Adara saw Pippin's face. She had a strange foreboding that something would come of this – though for good or evil, she could not tell.

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed Saruman. And without uttering another word, she tapped Peter's thigh. He understood, turned the horse, and urged it back through the water towards the edge of the Ring of Isengard.

"Nasty business." Gimli muttered just behind them. "Still, it's over now."

Legolas murmured a reply, but Adara got the feeling that he, too, had a foreboding that more would come of this meeting than they thought.

Peter and Aragorn were too caught up in the whirling swirl of power and emotion from Adara that they sensed through their respective bonds to think of much else, and Theoden and Eomer were still reeling from the discovery that the mysterious Hiljar was female. Gandalf was pondering the object he had taken from Pippin. Pippin was also occupied with that object – and Merry was worried about him. Legolas was busy with the sense of foreboding. That left only Gimli to ponder the prophecy that Adara had made, and wonder who this man was that would come to take the stone of Saruman the White.

After Eustace and Jill disappeared, Mrs. Pevensie was so distraught that she refused to leave her room. She sent for Susan every couple hours, wanting to be sure that her oldest daughter had not deserted her like all the others had. Mr. Pevensie was dismayed and grieved, but he simply threw himself into his work even more forcefully. Where downtime for him had been infrequent before, it was almost non-existent now.

Susan continued to find solace in John. Sometimes she told him that he was the only thing keeping her sane. At that he would always smile and say gently, "I know, love. I know."

However, although he was always with her, he seemed to be getting more distant. Susan couldn't understand it, but finally chalked it up to Jill's rude words the night she and Eustace had disappeared.

One day, he asked if she would walk with him. He seemed less distant than usual, and she was happy to accept. Once they were outside, however, he became silent and pensive. She waited for him to speak, hoping that the mood would pass. They walked for an hour or so in silence, before he suddenly stopped.

"Darling, I believe that girl Jill was right."

"What?" Susan asked, confused. What was he talking about?

"When she said that if I truly loved you, I would encourage you to listen to Edmund. She was right."

"Whatever do you mean, John?" She asked again, a cold, fluttery feeling of dread settling in her stomach.

John smiled, not the gentle, kind smile she knew and loved, but a dark, twisted smirk.

"Your brother had the right idea all along my dear. And you, like the fool you are, ignored his warnings and played right into my hands."

Edmund watched as the hobbits faded into the distance with their strange guide. He had a bad feeling about Gollum. Somehow he knew that the creature would betray Frodo. Faramir's men had captured Gollum the evening before, and Frodo had to help them to keep Faramir from ending the thing's life – Gollum had broken some sacred law or other. But the creature thought that Frodo had betrayed him, he didn't understand that the hobbit had actually saved his life. Now they were headed into the wilds again – to the pass of Cirith Ungol, which Edmund also had a bad feeling about – and the two hobbits would be at the slimy creature's mercy. Edmund had been very relieved to discover that they both had swords in their possession.

He had warned Frodo, and the hobbit had accepted his advice graciously. Yet somehow Edmund got the feeling that he hadn't really been heard. So he had gone to Sam. The poor gardener-turned-bodyguard was still suspicious of Edmund, but received his warning with a lot more attention and a quiet word of thanks. Edmund had also given the hobbit an extra dagger, telling him to hide it somewhere on his person where Gollum would not know about it. It was a magical blade. Adara had given it to him years ago, and it would cut through the best armor.

Sam was pathetically grateful, and all his suspicions seemed to disappear.

"I won't let that Stinker know I have it, Mr. Edmund. I won't. If he tries to pull any tricks, it just might come in handy. And if it'll cut through armor like you say, then I don't think it should have a problem with his hide – tough though it is. If I see you again, after this is over, I'll give it back. I promise I will, it's too good a blade for a Gamgee, it is."

"No, Sam. Keep it. It has served me long enough. Besides – you need it more than I do."

At that, Sam's face turned doubtful. "I don't know about that, sir. We're headed into bad places, sure, but hopefully we won't be in no fights. And I don't think the Eye's watching his own lands to close – I've an idea he'll be peering out to watch you. With that Witch-lady… He must want you real bad, Mr. Edmund. You must a powerful fighter or something for him to want you so bad. I'm sorry I was so accusing, but I didn't want Mr. Frodo in any trouble. He doesn't always seem to know trouble when he sees it – take that Stinker, for instance. Mr. Frodo thinks that he can bring back Sméagol. That's who Gollum used to be, before the Ring came. But I don't think he's right, I think that Gollum only wants the Ring, and nothing else. And he'll do anything to get it. You see, sir? He's smart, but he's so tired. He just doesn't think things through all the time. I've got to protect him, that's what Gandalf told me. "Don't you lose 'im, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't reckon too."

Edmund smiled. "I understand how he feels, Sam. He and I have faced the same kinds of things. We both want to see those enslaved to darkness come to light. Don't discourage him too much; sometimes he'll feel like trying to reach Sméagol underneath all the layers of Gollum is the only thing that's really keeping him sane. But don't allow him to do anything stupid either. In some ways, Sam, you have a harder task than Frodo does. He carries and protects the Ring – but you carry and protect him. And so in a way, you carry and protect them both."

Sam gaped at him. "I do?"

"Sort of. Not exactly, but, well, sort of. You do understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Mr. Edmund. I think I do." Grimly he added, "I hope I see you again, sir."

"I hope so too Sam. My prayers go with you."

Now, just on the edge of eyesight, Sam turned and looked back. He raised a hand, and Edmund raised his in return. With that, the hobbit hurried after his master, and disappeared from view.

Beside Edmund, Faramir made a soft sound. "From enemy to friend, in a few short hours. Sam took a rather sudden liking to you."

"He just wanted to be sure I wasn't a threat." Edmund replied softly. He had a lump in his throat. How like Tumnus Sam was – in his own way. His unwavering devotion, his never-ending loyalty… Tumnus had been Lucy's special friend, but he was also the only one who truly knew what Edmund had gone through. He, too, had been a captive of the Witch. The two of them had a unique bond because of that; a bond that Edmund thought only Adara knew existed. He missed Tumnus, he really did. He had valued the faun's friendship.

Faramir turned and made his way back into the cave-base, with a pensive expression. Suddenly he said to Edmund in an undertone, "I do not like it. That creature will betray him, as surely as I stand here. And Cirith Ungol – that is not good. Why would the creature take him there?"

Edmund frowned. "Your feelings are my own, save that I do not know the danger of Cirith Ungol. Still, my soul would rest easier if they took another path. My mind shudders when I hear the name, and I know not why."

They stood in silence for a moment until Edmund added, "I must simply trust that Aslan's plan will be worked out. He knows what he is doing. If he meant for them to take a different path, surely he would have had me do something. I am here for his purposes after all. But he did nothing, so… I will trust him, even with this."

Faramir's mouth tilted up at the corners. "You place a great deal of faith in Illuvatar. More so than anyone I have ever met."

Edmund glanced at him with surprise. "You do not have faith in him?"

"I do." The Captain paused, and sighed. "And yet… He has always seemed so remote, as though he does not truly care what happens to those of us here in this world he has made. He sent the Valar to help us, it is true – but when has he ever done something himself? It makes it difficult to believe that he remembers us at all."

Edmund watched the other man's face for a moment.

"You, however." Faramir continued, "You have seen him, you have spoken with him. If what you say is true, and I do not doubt your words, then he loves you, your family, and your world dearly. But why should he love your Narnia, and not my Gondor? What have we done to displease him so, that now he ignores us?"

"You wish that he would give you some sort of proof of his love?" Edmund murmured.

Faramir shrugged. "Perhaps so. Perhaps all I wish is evidence that he has not forgotten us."

"There was a time when my brother doubted him. Things were not going right, and we were losing the battle to save our country. Peter told my sister Lucy much the same thing – he wished Aslan would give him some sort of proof."

The other man nodded slowly, waiting. "Go on."

"Lucy, out of all four of us, is by far the closest to Aslan. The only one as close as she is, is Adara. Lucy told Peter that perhaps he was the one who needed to prove himself, not the other way around."

"What are you saying? I must prove myself to Illuvatar before he will care for me?"

"No! That's not it at all. He cares for you, Faramir, I know he does. But he will not necessarily show himself to you. Most people never see him, you know. All I'm saying is that you must not wait for him to 'prove' himself to you. He doesn't have to. You must do your best for him, whether he ever proves himself to you or not. Those who believe and work without ever seeing have the greater reward."

The Captain stared at him again.

He does that a lot. Do I really astound him so often?

"You have wisdom far beyond your years, Edmund."

"You say that as if you were a great deal older than me – which you're not. You barely have two years on me!" Edmund retorted with a grin, almost laughing at the end.

Faramir simply shrugged. He guessed that his friend had again made some obscure reference to something that had happened in the past, and didn't bother to even ask. He knew from experience that he wouldn't understand the explanation given anyway.

He gave the order for his men to pack up and prepare to move. They were heading back toward central Gondor since the group of Haradrim – the dark men in the valley – had been dealt with. Minas Tirith would need their help.