Chapter 35
Cari peered into the darkness ahead of her, but she could see nothing. She supposed it would not have been much use if she could, since her stomach kept pitching backward and forward with the rest of her body. Every forward motion produced a dull, heavy pain against her ribs. Gradually, the pain increased, and before long she opened her mouth to cry out against it. This, however, was of no use either, for no sound came out. She tried again, but with the same result, and now her head began throbbing as well. Desperate to release some of the pent-up pain, she opened her mouth yet again, but she breathed in too sharply, producing a pang in her right lung that pushed her over the edge and into oblivion.
The flickering sensation in front of her eyelids awoke her. She opened them slowly to see the same glistening river of intertwined colors she had beheld during her last two illnesses. She thought she might be closer to them this time, but her eyes were too entranced by the undulations of the colors to pay much real attention to distance. Even as she realized how very warm she felt, her eyelids became suddenly heavy, and all was darkness once again.
Cari's eyes opened to the many-hued river twice more. The second time, she realized that she was indeed much closer to it, so close she could see that the river was not actually a river at all.
Sheets upon sheets of flames in every shade of color she could imagine, as well as thousands more she had not, leaped far above her head. Sparks of purple and emerald and pale gold shot out and snapped against the ground not a yard away from her. Terrified, Cari tried to turn and flee, but her feet stayed rooted to the ground. After a minute or two of frantic attempts to pull them free, she realized that the sparks were not coming any closer, and calmed down enough to realize how cold the ground was in the face of the fire's roaring heat. As she bent her head to see why, a ball of dark gold shot out from the fire, startling her. She ducked and covered her head with both arms, but felt nothing. Cautiously, she peered upward to find that the new arrival was standing stock still and staring straight at her with its bright green eyes.
It can't possibly be, she thought. As if it sensed her thoughts, the cat gave her a very pointed blink. Cari's eyes widened for a moment until she realized the animal was purring. It blinked again and stretched out its head toward her, an expression very much like a smile on its face, and Cari rubbed her fingers against her sweat-laced palm for several moments, unsure of whether she should reach out and touch the animal. Slowly, her fist unclenched and, almost of its own accord, began to move toward the cat until, still uncertain, she stopped it. The cat blinked again and gave her a soft meow that sounded almost melancholy, then began purring again as if to reassure her. Cari bit her lip and once again ran her fingers over her palm. Seconds stretched into minutes, and still the cat waited, its expression at once hopeful and serene, until suddenly Cari realized how very warm she felt, and how very, very cold the ground was. She was about to look down again when the colors began to fade, and so did the cat. The last thing she could remember seeing before everything turned to darkness again was its pair of luminous green eyes staring at her patiently.
Cari awoke later in complete darkness, but what her eyes lacked for sight, her nerves compensated for generously. Her head and neck throbbed; her ribs ached dully on her left side and screamed low on her right; and she felt as though a line of fire were cutting her left palm in half and slashing across her back all at once. Its heat had spread throughout the rest of her body, causing the few nerves not attached to the injured parts to protest roundly. After several moments, she realized they had found a voice, for the dry, harsh groan nearby that was still grating on her ears had come from her.
As if in response, two or three voices began swirling above her head in a matter of seconds. She thought they were female, but to whom they belonged she could not tell. She did, however, sense something or someone nearby lifting a weight she had not known was covering her, then another weight off of her right arm. Her skin immediately heated further, causing her to moan again, but just a few moments later she felt the weight return, this time in the form of something deliciously wet and cool. The same thing happened in short order to the rest of her limbs, as well as her stomach, chest, neck, cheeks, and forehead. She had just begun to wonder whether the tide had washed her onto a ledge along the cliff, then receded a bit before the waves had risen again, when she sank back into darkness.
Cari woke several more times after that. Each time she felt the pains and fever return, although with differing degrees of severity. Nearly every time, she felt the latter being assuaged by the comforting coolness she had sensed earlier, and on occasion she found herself alert enough to understand a voice close by instructing her to drink from a flask being lifted to her lips. Depending on when she awoke, it was either a light, lilting female voice or a gravelly but very soothing male one, although no matter which voice it was, its owner was always asking how she felt and where she hurt the most. She usually managed to moan an answer, although she slurred her words so much that she was not entirely sure her questioner understood it.
Cari always sank back into darkness within a matter of minutes, but the swirling inferno never returned. Once, though, she felt as though she were floating, and the sound of rushing waves around her seemed to confirm it. Suddenly, one of them caught her and spun her toward what she somehow knew was a wall of rocks, even though she could not see it. She tried with all her might to scream, but no sound came out, even when she felt her body speeding upward at an alarming rate toward a brilliant pool of light. Then the motion stopped, and her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a face it took her several seconds to recognize as that of Queen Susan. The older girl did not notice her, however, and drifted in and out of focus, along with her voice, which was joined by the other two to which Cari had by now become accustomed, and one other that might have been King Edmund. Quickly, however, her eyelids tired and closed again, although she could still hear the voices. A loud noise nearby jolted her eyes open again, and it was then that she heard Queen Susan calling out her name in delight. Seeing the beaming faces of both the queen and King Edmund, she smiled as best she could, until two unfamiliar faces appeared in her peripheral vision, one belonging to a kindly-looking old man and one to a lovely woman perhaps ten years older than herself. The woman asked her if she could hear them, and Cari nodded, whereupon the woman issued a few pointed directives that cleared the two monarchs and the man out of Cari's line of vision. The woman disappeared too, but quickly returned, her face close enough this time that Cari could make out her green eyes and long, dark hair, which flowed down over her left shoulder as she bent and put her arm around Cari's shoulders to help her sit up. She held a vessel of some sort to the girl's lips, and despite the protesting throbs from her head and back, not to mention the searing pain tearing across her left hand, she willingly drank it. This time she was alert enough to recognize the herbs in the liquid as the same that had flavored the water she had been given by the healers in Archenland during her previous two bouts of illness.
"Does your hand still hurt, Princess?" asked the woman, and Cari recognized the lilting voice from before at once. She tried to nod, but her effort immediately produced more throbbing, so she managed to utter a weak affirmation.
The woman nodded. "And your back? Does it feel any worse than before?"
It took several moments for Cari to understand the words and rack her hazy memory, but she did recall her back had very nearly bursting the last time she had drunk – or perhaps the time or two before last – at being raised to an even lesser angle at which it was now tilted, so she finally replied in the negative.
"Can you move your arms for me, Princess?" the woman asked her, but Cari felt herself sinking rapidly again, and barely mustered the strength to lift her right arm a few inches before her eyes shut again. She thought she heard Queen Susan talking at a distance as darkness overwhelmed her once more.
Some time later, Cari found herself floating on the raft again and gazing out at the waves of the Eastern Sea. Sure enough, within a few moments the Lion was standing in front of her, His appearance producing a gasp of surprise from her even though she had expected it. As she stared with all the open-mouthed shock and horror she had felt the first time she had seen Him, one spot on His forehead just above His right eye began to glow particularly brightly. It drew her gaze away from His great golden-brown eyes, which were shining with grave concern and something undefinable that could almost be called pleading. Within seconds, they had faded, along with everything else but the odd point of light. She turned her head a bit more until a sharp twinge stopped her and caused her to blink. It was then that she realized she had not actually opened her eyes since the wave had overwhelmed her and smashed her against the cliff. Just seconds later, she realized that the strange glow on the Lion's forehead had materialized into the flame of a lamp flickering on a table beside the bed in which she was lying.
Blinking again, Cari slowly looked around her, but she could see very little of the rest of her surroundings, which were completely dark except for the table on which the lamp sat and a few strands of a thick, gold-and-crimson rug illuminated by stray beams of moonlight peeping around the curtains on the other side of the room. Peering more closely at the table, she saw that the corner pieces were carved with the face of the same Lion she had seen mere minutes before.
I must still be in Narnia, then, she thought after a moment. Given the rug, perhaps I am even in Cair Paravel, although I don't recognize this room – what I can see of it at any rate. Perhaps if I picked up the lamp…
The memory of the swirling flames made Cari hesitate for several minutes, but eventually her curiosity made the idea too good to pass up, and in short order she had reached her right hand out far enough to touch the lamp. Just then she felt something fall off her arm, and she glanced downward just in time to see a piece of white woven cloth hit the floor. She started, and her elbow knocked into the lamp, causing it to skitter to the very edge of the table; only a last-ditch backward slap kept it from crashing to the floor.
Just as Cari had managed to right the lamp, a noise from the shadows beyond the table caused her to jump again. She could just make out the silhouette of an arm reaching out toward her, and quickly jumped backward as fast as she could, scattering a few more white cloths in the process and producing a sharp stab of pain through her right side. A startled combination of yelp and gasp left her mouth at the exact same moment that a squeal of "Cari!", accompanied by the light of the lamp, revealed that the arm belonged to Queen Lucy.
"Cari! Thank Aslan, you're awake!" As quickly as she could say it, the younger girl had leaped out of her perch on a nearby chaise and, using the table as leverage, hobbled over and re-seated herself on the edge of the bed. She looked as though she very much wanted to throw her arms around Cari, but restrained herself to putting one hand on her shoulder and holding the back of the other to her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
Cari blinked a few times before she could respond. "All right," she finally managed, although the fright had left her surprisingly drained of energy. "A bit tired is all." She made to lie back a bit, but only managed to re-aggravate the pain in her side. Seeing her struggle, Queen Lucy immediately inched forward and put her arm around Cari's back, gently lowering her down. She fussed a good deal over the older girl's pillows, which brought a wan smile to Cari's face.
"Really, Lucy, I'm fine," she said, then stopped when she realized she had referred to the younger girl by her first name only. This elicited a broad smile in response, though the queen's forehead was still creased with worry.
"It's about time you began calling me that for good now," she said. Her smile faded as she added, "I was far too afraid you wouldn't be around to call me either one or the other, though. You gave us all a horrible fright, Cari."
Cari blinked again, her thoughts scrambling over each other in their hurry to reassemble her last memory before she had blacked out and seen the colors again. She closed her eyes, and flashes of lightning and rain and solid rock rushed through her mind, followed by a long fall and a splash into cold, salty water. As she opened her eyes to meet Lucy's suddenly tear-filled ones, she felt two distinct lumps materialize – one in her throat, and one in the pit of her stomach. I suppose I must have been unconscious for some time, then, if they were all so worried. Oh, no. I must have caused quite a bit of trouble – oh, no, wait, she said "us." Does that mean –
"Wait – us?" she said aloud, sitting up as far as she could until her ribs began protesting again. "Does – is Aravis all right, and Cor and Corin? They got off the cliff, too, right?"
Queen Lucy nodded at once. "Oh, yes, they're fine, Cari," she said. The unshed tears in her eyes glistened as she added, "I think they and your father are only the worse for worrying about you than for anything else."
Cari let out a sigh of relief as she sank back down. "Thank heavens," she said, then added hastily, "I mean that they are all right, of course, and not that I have made everyone worry so. I did not mean to cause anybody such a fright, or so much time worrying, or – or a broken ankle," she added, remembering the queen's sharp fall off the cliff. "I know I should have called out to warn you when you said you were coming back up for me, but I dropped just then and got clumsy, and – oh, I should never have come along in the first place, Lucy; I wouldn't have broken your ankle, and I'm sorry."
The young queen raised both of her eyebrows at this. "Oh, for heavens' sake, Cari," she finally said, shaking her head in clear bemusement. "You are the only person I know who would save the lives of four people by very nearly sacrificing her own, then spend a week horribly ill, and then wake up worrying over somebody else's broken ankle." She emitted an odd noise that sounded more like a swallowed sob than a giggle before continuing. "You did not break my ankle; I caused that through my own carelessness. And if you had not come along, we may well have been trapped on the cliffs in any case, and without you to get us out."
Cari shook her head as far as she dared. "I doubt you would have failed to get back in time, had your ankle not been broken," she said. "But even if you had, I am sure you would have been able to get out in any case."
By the look on the younger girl's face, Cari expected her to protest again, but before that could happen, her own mouth opened again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lucy; I haven't asked how your ankle is feeling, and I should have done."
Lucy shook her head quickly at this. "No, you shouldn't, Cari," she said, "not considering all you have been through. And my ankle is mending beautifully; Master Pennock saw to that. It will be good as new within a matter of weeks." She waved a hand and leaned in a bit closer, the tears glistening more prominently. "In any case, Cari, that is not what's important. You saved my life, and I am – I am very grateful to you." She took a shaky breath before adding with a smile, "And a broken ankle is a small price to pay, as far as I am concerned." She reached forward then and hugged Cari, who reciprocated as far as her ribs would allow.
After a few moments, the queen pulled back. Seeing Cari wince, she immediately dropped her arms. "Oh, Cari, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt your ribs any further."
Cari shook her head. "No, that was me moving my arms wrong," she said. She bit her lip then and tilted her head, trying to clear the mist from her memory. "Wait. I remember getting washed up against the cliff, but not anything else. How did I – I mean, how did we all – do you know what happened exactly, and how long it's been? I am afraid I don't even know what day it is."
Lucy smiled then. "We were rescued six days – no, five – oh, no, it's after midnight now, so I suppose it has been six days since then," she answered. "And I don't remember what happened at all, but Cor and Corin and Aravis do, and – oh, bother!" She pushed herself up out of the chair. "I promised them all I'd tell them the minute you woke up and could talk, and I completely forgot." She swept toward a doorway somewhere out of Cari's sight, then turned back for a moment. "I'll be right back with them, Cari; will you be all right here for a few moments, or shall I – oh, blast it!" She clapped both hands to the sides of her head. "I also promised Sir Pennock I would tell him or Lady Tala when you woke up, too." She turned back toward the doorway for a moment before facing Cari once again. "Well, I suppose I shall have to suffer their wrath, as I am going to wake your family first." She flashed Cari a grin before disappearing out of the room.
Cari had barely had time to peer into the darkness to see if she could make out any more than she had before Lucy had awakened when she heard a muffled shriek, followed by several thuds and only slightly quieter exclamations, from what sounded like the next room over. After a few minutes of the commotion, Cari heard the door opening. This time, thanks to the lamps they were carrying, she could clearly make out her father, the twins, and Aravis rushing into the room. Within seconds, the lamps had been deposited on floor and tables alike, and Cari found herself surrounded by an array of anxious faces uttering a chorus of greetings and questions. King Lune, unable to restrain himself, engulfed his daughter in a barely restrained hug, and when he pulled back, his eyes were as full of tears as Lucy's had been. Aravis's face was whiter than Cari had ever seen it, and both twins had dark circles under their eyes.
Cari smiled wanly as silence fell over the room. "I – I'm fine," she said at last, the only and most repeated question she had registered being some variant of, "How are you feeling?" "I'm sorry to have worried everyone so much, though, and – for waking you all at this hour."
As if in response to her words, her mouth opened in a wide yawn, which she barely managed to cover while the protests rang out around her. She smiled again, and more fully.
"We'd rather be talking to you than sleeping, anyway," she registered Cor saying as her ears recovered from the yawn. His expression sobered. "Or not sleeping, rather. I think King Peter and everyone would rather it, too. We were wearing out the carpet in our rooms. Corin, mainly, but the rest of us too." What little humor he had managed to muster, however, felt flat and brittle, and for once Corin had no reply but a grimace.
"Well, you can tell them that much is my fault for worrying you all so," replied Cari; seeing a fresh round of protests on everybody's faces, she added, "for – well, six days, according to Queen Lucy, is that right?"
Aravis's mouth opened halfway before it shut again as she swallowed. After a few awkward moments, Cor nodded. "Yes, it would be six today," he answered, "as it's early in the morning."
"So we were rescued in the morning, then?" Cari asked.
King Lune shook his head. "It was late in the evening when we found you," he replied, "and – " He paused as Cari yawned again. "Perhaps you would like to wait before hearing the entire story," he finished.
Cari shook her head. "No, Father, unless you would rather not recall it just now. I can stay awake a bit longer, I think."
Before King Lune could reply, however, he was interrupted by the entrance of two figures whom he introduced to his daughter as Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, Cair Paravel's healers-in-chief. Cari, however, needed no introduction; she recognized both healers at once as the strangers she had seen when she had awakened earlier.
"Ah." Sir Pennock bowed in greeting to the royal family. "Our apologies for interrupting, Princess Carisa – Your Majesty – Your Royal Highnesses," he said, nodding to each of them in turn, "but Queen Lucy has informed us you are awake and feeling better than previously."
Cari could do no more than nod at the moment; when Sir Pennock's bow struck her as odd, she had bent her gaze downward and discovered that he was a faun, instead of the old man she had assumed him to be. King Lune, however, shifted a step or two over, and Aravis and the twins followed his lead. "By all means, come in," he said. "Yours is always a welcome presence, my good healers, especially after all you have done for Cari thus far."
Lady Tala, whom Cari's clearer eyesight now recognized as a naiad, bowed in her turn. "And we are happy to have done it, King Lune," she said. "Princess Carisa – " she turned gracefully to face Cari – "how are you feeling at the moment?"
"Fine, thank you," Cari answered automatically. "That is – much better than before," she added, her cheeks coloring a bit. It was then that she realized how warm she felt. The naiad had apparently read her thoughts, for she reached over and gently felt Cari's forehead with the back of her hand.
"Much cooler, as well," she remarked. She then turned toward Sir Pennock, who, anticipating her actions, had produced a basin of water from somewhere among the shadows and handed it to her, along with several white cloths. Setting the basin down and dipping a cloth into the water, she turned back to Cari.
"Would you like a cool cloth?" she asked, and Cari quickly assented, lying back so that the cloth would rest smoothly on her forehead. Having seen to that, Lady Tala and Sir Pennock began asking Cari how her limbs and ribs felt, and how far she could move her arms and legs without feeling pain. Her family drew back a bit to give her room to maneuver, although by the look on King Lune's face, he was having a hard time restraining himself from running to his daughter's side again. Cari gave him a wan smile before turning her attention back to Lady Tala, who was asking if she might feel Cari's ribs. Cari nodded reluctantly before gingerly holding up her right arm. The healer's touch was gentle but firm, and a pang shot through Cari's side. She winced and shied away, and Lady Tala apologized at once.
"It feels less tender than it did before, however," she said. "A good sign that the bones are beginning to heal."
That distracted Cari from her discomfort for a moment. "My bones are beginning to heal?" she repeated blankly.
Lady Tala nodded. "Three of your ribs are broken," she said, "and, given what happened, it is a wonder that the rest survived with only bruises."
"Oh," was the only word Cari could muster. She squinted in the direction of what she guessed to be the opposite wall, trying to pull more recollections from her mind of the night on the cliff. I suppose they broke when that wave washed me against the cliff. I do remember feeling a tremendous amount of pain there just before I fainted.
"Princess Carisa?" Sir Pennock's gravelly voice, no doubt following Lady Tala's, brought Cari out of her reverie, and she abruptly turned her head to face him. Her neck rewarded her with a twinge, but it paled in comparison to the pains that rushed back into her memory from the night of the storm as she did so.
"Are you suffering any headaches?" the elder healer asked her, and she could not help the small but ironic smile that leaped to her lips.
"Only when I turn my head sharply, Sir Pennock," she answered truthfully.
He nodded, pleased. "And your appetite? Would you like something to eat – bread and spices, perhaps, or an apple?"
Slowly, Cari nodded. "Yes, thank you. And thank you also for caring for me – both of you," she added, nodding to Lady Tala as well.
The two healers were still smiling and assuring her that they were only happy that she was on the mend, when a soft knock on the door was followed by the entrance of a candle attached to the arm of Queen Lucy, who was bearing a tray laden with soup, bread, fruit, and a steaming cup of tea.
"I thought you might be hungry, Cari," she said as she set the tray on the table next to Cari's bed. Grinning, she added, "And I supposed Sir Pennock and Lady Tala might encourage you to eat in any case. They can be very persuasive."
Cari smiled back. "Thank you for going to the trouble, Queen – Lucy," she replied. "The tea smells delicious."
"I'm glad you think so," replied the younger girl. "It's a special rosemary blend – one of our healers' better-kept secrets." She grinned at Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, although Cari noticed that her eyes had retained some of the worry she had seen when the younger girl had first regarded her upon her awakening.
"You mean one healer's well-kept secret, Queen Lucy," Lady Tala admonished the queen. Turning to Cari, she added, "Queen Lucy is often too modest to admit that she concocted it herself."
The younger girl waved her hand. "Technicalities," she replied. "I had plenty of help." She held out the steaming mug to Cari, who gripped it as well as she could considering the thick bandage over her left hand.
"Thank you very much," she said and took a sip of the tea, which tasted better than it smelled, if possible.
Lucy smiled and waved her hand again. "It was the least I could do, Cari." She turned to the two healers with a meaningful tilt of her head. "I am sorry; I did not mean to interrupt you."
Both of them, however, shook their heads. "We were just finishing," Lady Tala offered. "In fact, the question about food was our last one." She nodded to Cari as she and Sir Pennock rose. "Would you like anything else, Princess?"
Cari shook her head. "No," she answered. "I am quite content – and quite grateful to you all."
Three smiles returned hers, and within moments the queen and the two healers had departed, leaving Cari alone with her family.
Cari took several bites of soup in silence, as nobody appeared eager to tell her what had happened before she had eaten. In between mouthfuls, she managed to inquire after Aravis's hand and the boys' health, both of which they assured her were just fine. Quiet fell again, and Cari noticed that everybody appeared a bit preoccupied with looking at her as though she might vanish at any second. Her cheeks flushed, and she hastened to finish the piece of bread on which she had been nibbling. After washing down the last morsel with a sip of tea, she took a deep breath and looked her father in the eyes.
"You were saying it has been six days since you rescued us, then, Father?" she asked.
The king shook his head. "Six days, yes, Carisa, but I did very little of the rescuing. Over a dozen of us rode out after you, and as Queen Lucy told us, we all have King Edmund to thank for the rope that you used to climb as high as you did." He cleared his throat before continuing. "And as Aravis told us, we have you to thank for her ability to hold on until your brothers were able to pull her up – as well as for guiding them to the hollow in the first place." He cleared his throat again, and his eyes shone – whether more from pride or from relief, Cari could not tell.
Before she could protest that her siblings had exaggerated her role, though, the king regained his composure. "And we have King Peter to thank for rescuing you," he continued, his voice softening. "It was he who saw you adrift in the water and jumped in after you." He shook his head sharply, as if not yet able to believe what had happened.
"Corin threw him the end of the rope so everyone could fish you both out," put in Cor, causing his brother to flush.
"You were helping with Queen Lucy and Aravis," replied Corin, and for the first time a faint smile crossed his face. It faded as he turned back to Cari. "He said he saw you in a flash of lightning," he went on. "No one else could see you until then." He swallowed and went silent.
Cari reached toward his hand with her own, then hesitated long enough for Cor to pick up where his brother had left off. "He got hold of you," he said, "but he had to swim back against the current with you to get to the rope. Lord Peridan and the others had to keep on throwing it out because the tide kept on pushing it back against the side of the cliff. But he finally got you there and tied you on so you could get hauled up."
Cari's brow wrinkled. "He didn't tie himself on, as well?"
She felt rather than saw Aravis cringe beside her at that question, but the younger girl composed herself, and Cor went on. "No. It made them haul you up faster, and – " He glanced at Aravis, apparently thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. "And so he climbed up as far as he could until they untied you and let the rope back down for him. By then, Father and Queen Susan and everyone else on the top of the cliff had pulled up Aravis and Queen Lucy, and they pulled you up next, and then the rest of us."
"The rest of you?" Cari covered a yawn before continuing. "So everyone who came to our rescue – none of them was injured?" She remembered Queen Lucy telling her she had been sick then, and hastened to continue. "And did any of them take my illness?"
King Lune shook his head. "No, all are in good health. You are the only one who took ill." He paused a few moments before adding, "The cut on your left hand became infected. According to Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, it is not the kind of illness that spreads to other people."
Cari nodded, relieved. "Well, I am glad of that," she said, and yawned again. "But I am very sorry to have caused you all so much worry." She sighed. "Not to mention the inconvenience to our hosts. I shall have to apologize to them properly soon."
Her father leaned over to kiss her forehead. "It was not your fault, Carisa. And, if anything, I should say everyone here considers themselves in your debt for saving Queen Lucy's life. In any case, King Peter and his siblings have been most gracious in their care for us all, and will not resent our presence here until you are well enough to travel."
Cari felt like pointing out for the second time that night that Queen Lucy's life would hardly have been in danger had she not been trying to help the older girl down the cliff, but a tremendous yawn overtook her just then, and by the time it was over, she realized she was far too tired to argue the point. Sensing his daughter's exhaustion, King Lune stood and said he would find Lady Tala and ask her if Cari needed to take another draught of medicine before she slept again. He bent to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and swept out of the room.
For the first few moments, the siblings all glanced at each other, all unwilling to break the silence. Finally, after yet another yawn, Cari cleared her throat and spoke.
"It took all of us to help Queen Lucy the way we did," she said, "and I hope Father and everybody else knows that. I hope no one's told him I saved her all by myself." She managed to raise her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth as she finished speaking, in hopes that the levity would help soften the troubled glint their eyes shared. It did not, but it did break the silence, as all three of her siblings began talking at once.
"As if we would – " began Corin.
"'Course we told them what happened," his twin chimed in.
"That's not the point, Cari," said Aravis, her voice shaking. Cari turned her head just in time to see the younger girl lower her forehead onto her upturned hand, the elbow underneath it resting on the table for support. She quickly composed herself, however, and raised her head to look straight at Cari.
"Everyone knows what happened with Queen Lucy," she continued, "and with me." She blinked hard, and just as quickly her eyes filled with moisture. "Cari, you – I – you could have – if King Peter hadn't – "
"Corin and I would've, of course," piped up Cor, who had clearly noticed the younger girl's voice faltering. "Not that we begrudged him being a hero what with jumping more than thirty feet down into freezing water to save you and all that, even though he insists he's not. Bit like you, Cari, come to think of it." The smile died on his lips, though, as he continued. "Although he didn't worry us all half as much as you did. And don't believe Corin if he won't admit he got worried, either."
That earned him a sharp look from Corin, and for a moment the old spark almost returned. "I don't have a problem admitting to things when they're true," he retorted, but his voice softened as he turned to Cari. "And don't believe Cor if he won't admit he was just as glad as me yesterday, when you woke up and Sir Pennock told us you'd recover."
Cari's brow furrowed for a few moments until she remembered seeing Queen Susan and the two healers when she had awakened previously. Wait. Yesterday?
"So he – Sir Pennock – didn't know until yesterday…" Cari's question trailed off as she realized why her siblings looked as though they had lost so much sleep. No wonder. They spent almost five days thinking I might not survive.
"I'm so sorry," she finally managed, looking at each of her siblings in turn. "I – you know – I never meant to worry you all so much. I'm sorry you and Father had to go through all of what you did on my account." Her eyes lingered on Aravis's until the younger girl let out a sigh, and despite the two stray tears that trickled down her cheeks, she smiled.
"No more than what you put yourself through on my account, Cari," she said. "Well – our account, really." She glanced at Cor and Corin. "And none of us could thank you enough times for it, especially me." She wiped her cheeks, which quickly sprouted two more streams of tears.
"Long as you don't do it again, that is," Cor put in, causing Aravis to laugh. "Otherwise Corin might get cranky and threaten to knock someone down. And then I'd have to knock him down to stop him from doing it."
Corin rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try," he answered. "And anyhow, I'm in an awfully generous mood right now. Otherwise I'd have knocked you down already."
In spite of herself, Cari let out a howl of laughter, which was promptly cut short by a pang in her right side. She winced as she instinctively held her arm to her ribs.
"You're all right, Cari?" Aravis asked, and Cari nodded.
"As long as I don't break another rib," she answered dryly.
"And if you do, you can just blame Corin," put in Cor. "He's the one who made you laugh, after all."
Corin's answering glare lacked its usual luster, but his voice was steadier than Cari had heard it yet. "No, she can blame you. You're the one who started what ended with me saying what made her say – I mean, you ended – and she started – " He slapped the air in frustration, and Cor and Aravis barely looked at each other before they burst out laughing, followed in short order by Cari, who this time made sure to hold her ribs throughout.
"The point is, she laughed," Corin said, red-faced, but even he could not help smiling.
Just then there was a knock on the door, and in swept the two healers, accompanied by King Lune and Queen Lucy. All four looked bemused at the sight of Cari, who not only laughing and holding her ribs, but surrounded by her howling siblings.
"I declare, Corin," Queen Lucy finally said, once the four of them had stopped laughing enough to hear her. "King Lune leaves for but a few minutes, and already you have Cari threatening to break more ribs. You are not to be trusted."
Despite the smile on the queen's face, Corin promptly reddened. Cari, who saw enough of the underlying worry in the two monarchs' expressions, took a deep breath to soothe her ribs before she spoke.
"Well, I daresay he can be trusted to make me laugh," she said, "and for as much good as it has done me, I am very grateful."
Corin turned toward her sharply at this, and she had just enough time to wink at him before her mouth opened for a very wide yawn. At this, both healers briskly set to getting Cari additional medicine and water. Once she had had some of both, Sir Pennock escorted Cari's family out of the room while Queen Lucy and Lady Tala checked and changed the bandages on her injuries. Luckily, the two decided that the bindings on her ribs did not need replacing at that time; as far as Cari was concerned, having them feel the area for anomalies and displace her gown to check the bandages was more than uncomfortable enough. Even though it was Queen Lucy who did the inspection, and even though the gown was specially made to unwrap at the side so that Cari's legs and arms remained covered, she could not help shuddering several times; aside from the pain, it brought back memories of a few nights back in Calormen that she wished to forget. Fortunately, the young queen proved as quick as she had been gentle, and the ordeal was soon over.
"I'm sorry, Cari," whispered Lucy as Lady Tala swept over with more water. As she bent to squeeze the older girl's shoulder, the candlelight bent across her face, and Cari realized that the circles under her eyes were nearly as dark as her brothers' had been. "Are you feeling all right to rest, or would you like me to stay with you? Or your family, perhaps?"
Cari yawned again and shook her head. "No, thank you, Lucy," she answered. "I am sure I shall be asleep again in a few minutes, anyway." Just before yet another yawn overtook her, she added, "And thank you – very much."
The younger girl nodded. As Cari closed her eyes and accepted a drink of water from Lady Tala, she heard a faint "No, Cari, thank you," before the door creaked and then closed. She descended into darkness thinking that Lucy's voice sounded every bit as careworn as her face had looked.
The next time Cari awoke, her ribs and hand ached a bit less, and the next time after that she felt well enough to get a bath, although with a great deal of help from Aravis, both of her immensely relieved maidservants, the two Narnian queens, and an odd-looking contraption with one pair of legs, one pair of spoked wheels, two handles, and a cushion on the top, which insulated her aching ribs as she leaned against it to propel herself forward. Lucy had borrowed it from King Edmund's quarters, where it had sat ever since he had broken a rib several years previously during a fencing match with his brother.
"He was lucky they were only using their practice swords," Susan observed as she and Aravis bent to help Cari out of the bed. "He turned the wrong way on a block, and Peter's sword caught him in just the wrong place."
"Not that he ever let Peter forget it, either," said Lucy, beaming as she adjusted the walking aid. "Mind, Peter felt horrible about it, so he helped Edmund every chance he got, but whenever he did it, Edmund would bend down and hold his ribs like they were in terrible pain." Unable to help herself, she began laughing out loud. "Peter actually fell for it the first few times; it was rather funny. Of course, after that it just annoyed him more and more, and finally he started calling Edmund 'Gimp' whenever he asked him for help. The last time Edmund tried it was the day before the harvest festival, and they were getting up from breakfast. Edmund didn't really need the help; he just thought Peter wouldn't refuse him in front of everyone."
"Well, Peter didn't refuse him, exactly," Susan put in as the two girls got Cari settled.
Lucy waved her hand. "Well, of course not exactly." She turned back to Cari. "Anyhow, he and Edmund had been going back and forth the whole morning, and Peter was rather out of temper. So he went over to Edmund and said what a shame it was that he was feeling too poorly to join them for the day's hunting and swimming, and after he helped him up, he headed off without him. Of course, Ed immediately got up and ran after him and tried to beat him to the stairs. But he got off balance, and he tripped and fell headlong and knocked them both down right in the middle of the hall." She covered her mouth and bent over laughing; Susan was chuckling along with her sister, as was Aravis. Finally, Susan turned to Cari again.
"Anyway, Edmund re-injured himself," she said. "He didn't re-break his rib, but he did bruise it, and Peter sprained his wrist. So that year, neither of them went on the hunt, and they both had to help with the bread making in the kitchens."
"Which meant Susan and I got to go instead," said Lucy, grinning reminiscently. "It was lovely – not that we let them forget it."
Susan raised her eyebrows. "You mean you didn't let them forget it," she said.
Lucy raised a brow of her own in return. "And who was it who counted the number of antlers on the stag we caught and made such a point of asking Peter how many had been on the one he and Ed caught the year before?"
Susan's face flushed. "I was curious," she said, but this only made Lucy laugh harder.
The following morning, Cari awoke early and exchanged her nightclothes for a day dress for the first time in over a week. Mara helped her dress, and Lady Tala came along to inspect Cari's wounds and change her bandages. After a thorough examination, she seemed very pleased with her patient's condition.
"I can feel your ribs already beginning to knit themselves together," she said. "And even a day or two ago, you couldn't have begun to turn as you just did there. You have healed with remarkable speed, Princess Carisa."
Cari shook her head. "If I have, it is because I have had such excellent care," she replied, "and I am very grateful to you for your part in it."
"Oh, it was but a small one," replied Lady Tala, and bent to gather Cari's old bandages off the bed.
A few minutes later, Mara had just finished arranging Cari's hair when the healer returned and asked if she felt up for visitors.
"The kings and queens, that is," she clarified, seeing the confused look on Cari's face. "They are happy to return if the hour is too early for you."
"Oh, I – oh, no." Cari shook her head. "Of course it is not too early. I should be happy to see them."
A few minutes later, Cari found herself seated on a plush red chair in the small sitting room next door, surrounded by the kings and queens of Narnia, as well as their queries as to her health.
"Very well, thank you," she replied, and added, "And I do mean 'thank you,' for it is thanks to all of you and your generosity that I am even here at all, not to mention mending so nicely."
"No less generosity than you deserve, Cari," protested Susan, and Lucy added, "And it is thanks to you that I am here and mending so nicely, too, Cari."
Cari shook her head. "And it was thanks to me that you were wounded and in danger to begin with," she replied, "so I did no more than I should have in the first place."
"Cari, you know that wasn't your fault," the queen answered at once, but Cari shook her head once again.
"I could have prevented it," she answered, then bit back the rest of what she had been about to say in favor of a tenuous smile. "But I am glad that no further damage was done to you."
King Edmund waved his hand. "Don't worry, Princess Cari. Lucy's done worse damage to herself trying to climb that route, and that was without anyone there to distract her." He grinned and added, "Besides, she has me to thank, since my rope supposedly saved everyone."
Lucy rolled her eyes at her brother, and Cari thought she would have stuck her tongue out at him as well had they been alone in the room. However, King Peter intervened before she could say anything.
"But in this instance," he said, blue eyes glowing with his barely contained mirth, "Lu's more the one to thank, Ed, since she was always the one who had to remind you to wind it back up after you went climbing."
The younger king rolled his eyes at this as Lucy grinned, and Cari thought King Peter would say something else, but he merely glanced over at Susan, who raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. The king then turned to Cari.
"Princess Cari," he said, "we are here to thank you because you saved Lucy's life – no matter what else may have happened during your climb," he added, inclining his head to bring his eyes nearly to a level with her own. "We are all – much more grateful than we could tell you." His voice lowered, and he paused a moment. He lowered his eyes, but not before Cari noticed a sudden sheen of moisture in them and withdrew her gaze. It quickly traveled over his siblings' countenances, all of which bore markedly similar expressions.
It was Lucy who finally broke the silence. "If even Edmund is grateful," she said, "you know you've done well, Cari."
Cari glanced at King Edmund, but he barely raised his eyebrows at this. Cari was suddenly reminded of Corin's ashen face at her bedside when she first awoke.
"We owe you a great debt, Cari, and we cannot ever hope to repay it." Susan's gentle voice drew Cari's gaze to the glint in the older queen's eyes, which lingered on her own for a moment before she turned to give her older brother a meaningful look. His own gaze rested upon Lucy as if he were still unable to believe her safety, and it was only then, with the streaming sunlight illuminating his face from the side, that Cari noticed the shadows under his eyes. He turned to Cari, and they disappeared.
"That much is true," he said, his voice steady again, "but we would like to give you a token to remind you of our gratitude." Seeing her bemused look, he paused for a moment. "Are you familiar with King Fabian of Narnia?"
Cari had to think for a few moments, but eventually she nodded. "He was the first king of Narnia to rule during the reign of Col the First of Archenland, yes?"
King Peter nodded. "Right. And after Col saved his life in battle, he had a brooch forged out of the finest gold in Narnia. He presented it to Col as a token of his thanks and friendship. Later in his reign, the duke of Galma rescued him from a band of pirates, and he had a similar brooch made and given to the duke. After that, he issued an order that anyone who saved the life of a member of the Narnian royal family in the future should receive one."
Cari nodded, her curiosity piqued. "So I suppose they made more of them, then?"
The king raised an eyebrow, and one corner of his mouth made an odd twist upward that almost made Cari laugh, and did cause Lucy to giggle next to her. It took a moment for King Peter to speak again.
"Yes," he answered, "and one of them will belong to you."
To me? Why – oh, honestly. I only saved Lucy's life after putting it in danger in the first place. Surely I don't count at the level of the others who saved the past monarchs without causing them harm first!
But this thought had clearly not occurred to any of the kings and queens, for the next thing Cari heard King Peter telling her was that they would present her with the brooch at the feast that would be held upon the eve of her family's departure to Archenland, provided it had been finished by then. According to Susan, it had taken Narnia's best goldsmiths and jewelers a month to make each brooch.
"If you depart before they finish it, we would love to give it to you on your next visit," added Susan. "We have already invited your father to bring you all to the next midsummer feast."
"But let's hope you visit again before then, for Lucy's sake," King Edmund added, grinning as Lucy narrowed her eyes at him.
"But it's so much work for your smiths, and I – " Cari's words trailed off as she watched Lucy's annoyance turn to a smile of anticipation, and out of the corner of her eye glimpsed the unshed tears in Susan's.
"It is for Lucy's sake and ours resulting from it that we offer you this gift, Cari," she said, "and the smiths begrudge it no more than we do; it is a trifling thing at best when compared to her life."
Her voice dipped noticeably at the end of the sentence, and Cari's resolve to protest further died altogether. She nodded and forced the corners of her lips upward.
"Then it would be my honor," she said, just as a knock sounded outside the room next door, accompanied by the booming voice of King Lune.
Bother it all, Cari sighed to herself after she had taken her lunch in her room. I am even slower than usual today. I didn't even thank King Peter properly for saving my life! I wonder if Father and I shouldn't give him something at least as nice as the brooch they're giving me. Actually, we should give him something nicer, since he didn't break my ankle before saving me. We would probably offend him and King Edmund and Susan and Lucy if we didn't, or at least break some kind of diplomatic protocol. We certainly would be breaking it were this Calormen. I should ask Father about it at once.
King Lune, however, did not share his daughter's apprehensions. "That tradition has stood for many years, Carisa," he said in answer to her queries about the brooch, "and they would do no less regardless of what happened to Queen Lucy beforehand. Both their traditions and their personal generosity direct that they demand nothing in return. In fact, making a point of giving a gift of higher caliber would be more offensive than a simple, gracious acceptance of what they give you." His eyes softened, and he added, "Not but that all of them are far too generous to take offense at either, and I would warrant that none of them would assign you an ounce of blame for what happened."
Which is exactly the problem, Cari wanted to say, although she was slightly reassured when her father went on to say that upon the first day of the Narnians' next visit to Archenland, they would hold a feast in the High King's honor. Still – bother. Why didn't I just go back to the castle to begin with and leave the others to climb without me? And I still owe King Peter an enormous expression of gratitude, feast or no feast.
The next week Cari's ribs felt well enough to make the trip upstairs for tea with her family and their hosts. "You made it all that way without the chair?" Susan asked, clearly but pleasantly surprised.
"Chair? Was I supposed to put her in a chair and carry her up here, then?" inquired King Edmund, grinning as Cari flushed.
"No, more like all three of us," Lucy retorted with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, the last time you were in that chair, Peter was the one carrying you around, Edmund."
The king's puzzlement lasted only a few seconds before giving way to another wide grin. "Wait – the gimp-chair survived?" He turned and clapped a hand on the shoulder of his brother, who had just walked up behind Lucy. "You remember the gimp-chair, don't you, Peter?"
The older king shot him a mock glare. "Of course I do," he replied, "seeing as how you never missed an opportunity to make me help you around with it, not to mention all the times you demanded that I push you all over Cair Paravel while you sat on it."
King Edmund did not miss a beat. "What, all two times?" he shot back. Seeing the elder king's pointed eyeroll, he quickly added, "Fine, maybe three. Or four. But in any case," he said quickly, seeing his brother's wide grin, "I do seem to recall that you ended up becoming the gimp yourself because of it."
"Along with you," King Peter pointed out, now laughing heartily. Cari thought the younger king might protest again, but instead he shrugged and began laughing right along with his brother. Cari restrained herself from shaking her head just in the nick of time, and contented herself with watching Susan roll her eyes.
Cari spent most of the meal half-listening to the two Narnian kings regale her brothers with stories of the gimp-chair, half preparing for what she had been unable to do thus far due to her lack of contact with either of the kings since the morning they and their sisters had come to visit her.
I don't care how uncomfortable I feel. I don't care how long it takes to get the words out, or how much Corin and Cor laugh at me afterwards. King Peter deserved my thanks some time ago, and he will get it, along with an apology – well, technically two apologies, since I did help break Lucy's ankle.
No sooner had everyone risen from the table than Cor and Aravis began an animated discussion. Corin and King Lune began conversations of their own with two fauns, the two queens turned to consult King Edmund about something, and King Peter, seeing Cari holding the back of her chair, offered her his arm for support, and asked her if she wanted her support chair brought to her. Cari saw her chance and took a deep breath.
"No, thank you, King Peter," she said. "I can get back to my quarters well enough without it, and that is thanks to you – I mean, that and the fact that I am even here to need a support, or – or not need one, because you saved my life. If you and your siblings believe you owe me a debt for Lucy, I believe I owe a much greater debt to you." She paused a moment, trying to recollect the rest of the words upon which she had settled over tea. "And I am sorry because I should have told you so before, when I first awoke. Please believe that I am not at all ungrateful, and nor is my family, and nor will I ever forget the debt of gratitude I owe to you."
For a few moments, the High King looked nonplussed. Finally he shook his head as if to clear it. "I do not think you ungrateful at all, Princess Cari," he said, "and you need not worry about any debt. And in any case, you saved my sister's life."
That stopped Cari in the process of wondering why he was pausing in between his words. "I helped save her life," she corrected him, "and it was only endangered in the first place because of me."
The king raised one eyebrow. "Lucy did not say that you had caused her any sort of danger," he responded.
Cari bit the inside of her lip to keep from sighing aloud in frustration. "I believe that," she said, "but the fact remains that her ankle is – well, mostly my fault, anyhow. I mean, I am not contradicting her truthfulness," she added hastily. "I only mean that Lucy is so forgiving, and that she naturally sees so much of the best in things, that she might not consider it to be my fault. You see, when we were descending the cliff, I took too long to get down, and she became worried and climbed up after me, and I jumped downward and landed on her hand by accident, and that was why she fell and broke her ankle in the first place."
King Peter shook his head. "She told me as much about going back up after you," he said, "and I still do not see that any fault lies with you." He raised his hand, as if forcing himself to stop his train of thought. "And in any case, it is not about fault or blame. I am only glad, as are we all, to see you both alive and well, and it does not change my gratefulness to you – or my family's."
Cari almost did release her frustrated sigh then. "I understand, King Peter," she said, "but without Lucy breaking her ankle, we probably would have made it back before the rain got so severe, and then we wouldn't have been stuck on the cliffs on the first place and in need of rescuing, and causing you and everyone else so much worry and trouble, and – well, all of that being so, you really owe me no thanks for Lucy's life at all, and neither does anyone else."
That earned her two raised eyebrows, along what might have been a sigh of exasperation, disbelief, or both. In any case it was an expression of displeasure, for when the king found his voice again, that was its chief note.
"But they – we all are thankful to you," he replied. "Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, I do believe you saved Lucy's life, along with your own siblings'. When you were first brought back after the flood, I told your father how grateful we all were to you. He told me that you would not consider us indebted to you, and you graciously proved that, which is why it is so difficult for me to see that you insist on faulting yourself so much deeper into our debt when we – when I meant only to express my gratitude to you."
Cari wanted nothing more than to melt into the cool stone floor then, or at least to stare straight at it and never look back up, but she forced herself to look the king full in the face as he spoke, although she could not help shrinking back a step or two. Only when he had finished did she drop her gaze and run her tongue over the inside of her lip, which she had now bitten nearly raw. Every name she had ever silently called herself streamed to the forefront of her mind, but halfway through the list, she forced her head back up to meet King Peter's gaze. He looked almost more startled than upset, but Cari's one thought was to erase both sentiments as quickly as possible, seeing as it would not do to run away. Unfortunately, the best she could do for several moments was to bite her lip and feel her face burning. Finally, another quarter of the way down the list of names, she forced herself to lift her eyes back to the king's and open her mouth.
"I am sorry to have displeased you, King Peter," she said. "I did not mean to; I only meant to make clear what happened – but I did not mean to say it ungratefully. I am very thankful to you for saving me, and to all of you for your hospitality. I never meant to imply otherwise."
The king's eyes softened completely as she spoke. "I do not think you ungrateful, Princess," he said, and would have said more had not Lucy come bounding over and announced the beginning of a grand Jump-Crystals tournament in the solar. Cari accepted at once, and quickly found herself being helped onto the softest couch in the room.
After seventeen total matches and a magnificent final showdown between Cor and King Edmund, the latter took the title of tournament champion. By that time dinner was being served, and King Peter was the first to offer Cari an arm off the couch.
"Thank you, King Peter," she said, trying her best to keep the apprehension out of her voice.
He smiled. "No trouble at all, Princess Cari, but I must admit I wanted to finish our earlier conversation. I angered too easily and startled you, and I was wrong to do so. I did not mean to upset you."
Cari shook her head. "Nor did I mean to upset you, King Peter, and I am sorry."
"As am I." For a moment, Cari thought he did not know what to say, but he recovered quickly. "Am I – are we then forgiven of each other?"
At first, Cari thought he was genuinely anxious over her answer, but she pushed the thought away. "Yes, of course – for my part, at least."
The smile returned then. "And mine." He turned to steer them around the corner toward the castle's secondary dining hall, where that night's evening meal was being served. "A truce, then, or should you like to defeat me at lawn-bowls a few times more for good measure?"
Cari's eyes stopped mid-widening as she caught the gleam in his, and before she could stop it, a laugh burst out of her, which produced a wide grin from the king.
"No, thank you," she finally answered. "This will suffice."
He nodded as they passed through the doorway into the dining hall. "Are you sure? My brother would love to see the alternative."
Cari smiled, thinking of Cor and Corin's argument over their last round of darts back at Anvard, and shook her head. "No, although I am sure he would appreciate your offer."
That elicited a hearty laugh, and Cari felt the king's arm shake underneath her hand. "That he would," he remarked, and bent to hand her down into her seat. "Poor Edmund."
"Oh, now what did I do?" King Edmund's cheerfully ironic voice rang out from across the table, and his brother grinned at him.
"Nothing but the usual, Ed," he answered. "You know – tripping me up and spraining my ankle on the stag hunt, knocking Lucy into a vat of syrup – "
"That was an accident!" Lucy and King Edmund burst out at the same time, and King Lune laughed so hard he began slapping the dinner table.