Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: A sorcerer challenged by Aslan. Love and friendship alike are tested by his presence. And the Gentle Queen faces her own challenge when the sorcerer's true colors are unveiled.

A/N: If you have not read the first eight stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, and Veiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Solution

The sickening smell of burnt flesh and the memory of the under-mage's screams made the boy want to retch. But his stomach had already relieved itself of the evening meal and possibly all he had consumed that day. Now he trotted to keep up with his father's long strides. Deeper into the city, to the large palace looming over them all. Past the sightless guards with helmets formed into animal heads who stood at every column. Past servants and slaves. Past even more guards, ones whose magic crackled and licked at the boy's skin as his own magic tried to respond. His father clamped a large hand on his shoulder and the sense of magic permeating the air faded to a subtle thrum.

They did not go to the throne room. No, his father chose a different path, unhesitating and more than familiar with it, until they reached a room richly furnished in greens and golds. A woman sat on a low stool before the open archway, her head tilted back as the moonlight bathed her, turning her long blonde hair almost silver. His father did not bow or do anything else expected. He merely uttered a single word, "Artemis."

The queen looked over her shoulder at him. "What has happened?"

"Your sister has acquired the Deplorable Word."

"What?" Queen Artemis rose to her feet but then she stilled and a bitter laugh escaped. "No, no, she may know it but she will not dare to use it."

His father crossed to her side in two large steps. He watched in confusion as Otec dared to put his hands on the Queen's shoulders. "Artemis. Jadis is not you. She sold her soul in exchange for knowledge. She feels nothing as we do anymore. I know about the dark magics. I was the one assigned to teach you against the forbidden arts. Jadis cares only for power. She cares only for control. She is not like you, Artemis. She does not have your heart even though you share the same face."

"That is why I know she will not use it." Queen Artemis reached up to touch his father's hands briefly but then she walked away from him. "I am not underestimating her, Arctus. I know she hungers for power and control and her taste for cruelty managed to shock our father, which was quite the accomplishment, as you know. But Jadis doesn't just love power for power's sake. My sister wants to rule over everything and everyone she sees." The diaphanous green robe flared behind her as she walked through the archway and out on to the balcony, spreading her pale arms wide as if she were trying to embrace the city. "No, she will not do it. She will not destroy all life because she needs people to worship at her feet. She is not content to just rule, she wants to be more than the empress of all Charn, she wants to be a goddess!"

There was a heavy silence after the queen's pronouncement. She lowered her arms and turned to face them, a gentle weariness to her posture now. She whispered, "She craves it. She needs it. No, Arctus, Jadis has not descended so far into madness as to condemn herself to a life alone on a barren, dying world. She broke the treaty against combative magic but she will not go so far as using the Deplorable Word. The final battle is coming, Arctus. It will be over soon." Her gaze fell on him and then she looked at his father. "Take your son and retire to the guest suite adjacent to my chambers. The boy looks ill and tired. He needs rest as do you, my trusted friend."

His father offered a low bow, pulling him into one as well. "As you command, My Queen."

Dawn's ruby rays had begun to filter through the open archways as the boy struggled to sleep. He turned on his side. His father was sitting in a chair, staring at the tapestry of Gilmesh's victory over the dragons of Kore. "Otec?"

"Go to sleep, Markus."

"Otec, do you love Queen Artemis like you loved Matka?"

His father looked at him and gruffly repeated, "Go to sleep, boy. And never speak those words again. It is against the law for the royal house to marry outside the Praetors. You and I have too much Jinn blood to be counted among the mages of those houses."

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"Markus! Quickly, my son, wake!"

The boy sat up straight, staring at his father. "Otec? What is happening?"

"There is no time, my son. Dress quickly."

The urgency in his father's voice lent speed to his sleep-heavy limbs. His father quickly ushered him out of their house and out into the courtyard, but they did not leave through the main gate. Instead, they ran to the small toolshed and then down a tunnel. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but the sky was still dark when they finally emerged onto a filthy alley in a section of Charn where the houses were built atop one another and the winding, narrow roads were always cluttered with refuse.

But still his father did not stop. His grip on his wrist did not slacken as they wove past piles of refuse, people, poor refugees from the war, lying in alley. Dead eyes stared at him from the faces of the living the few times someone was brave enough to look up at their passing. The boy had heard the rumors from his schoolmates and from the older students who studied under his father but he had never seen suffering like this before. "Otec, why doesn't the Queen help them?"

"There is only so much she could do. And now there is no more time."

The boy wanted to ask him what he meant but then a green flare blossomed in the sky. The refugees who could bolted to their feet, screaming and shouting out names, as they scrambled to pull young, old, and injured along as they surged deeper into the city. The boy looked at his father. "Otec?"

"They have reached the city walls. Come, Markus!"

On they ran, this time fighting against the people scurrying to flee. The magic was so thick in the air as mage-soldiers began to counter the attack, holding the invading army at bay that it tickled the boy's skin with an uncomfortable crackle but, unlike three years ago, he could control it now. His father stopped in front of an old temple braced against the city wall. The boy looked but he did not see any carving to denote the god or goddess it belonged to and he had never seen any of the other temples so rundown or covered with vines of biting beaks. Such neglect would anger the gods. Everyone knew that.

"Otec, where are we?"

"The temple to the One Emperor, He whom we abandoned." His father led him into the heart of the temple. "Before we turned to the gods and goddesses, He was there. Most of Charn has forgotten Him. I fear He has forgotten us. Surely we deserve it after abandoning Him."

The temple shook, dust and bits of stone falling, as thick magic made it difficult to breathe. His father raised his arms and began to chant an unfamiliar spell. The boy felt his own magic sing, attempting to connect with his father's to contribute to a spell that demanded all magic. His father uttered a harsh word that sent the boy stumbling back as his magic recoiled. Then his father's spell changed, drawing from the magic infusing the air around them as well as his own inner flame. The boy raised an arm, shielding his eyes as Otec began to shine with all the magic he was exerting.

The air in front of his father began to shimmer and wave. The boy watched in awe as he recognized the signs of a portal. Only the most powerful mages could open one.

He heard shouts and felt new magic saturate the air. But this magic felt . . . wrong.

"Markus, come here."

Fear ran down the boy's spine at the strained tone of his father's voice. He ran from the magic that stank of wrongness and death. "Otec, what's happening?"

"She is here. The battle for Charn has arrived."

"But . . . Why are you not fighting with the Queen?"

His father gripped his shoulders, gaze intent as he spoke, "Because I must save you from Charn's fate. This portal leads to the Land beyond Time. If the One Emperor is merciful, He will lead you to a new home. Remember your lessons and use your magic wisely. Make me proud."

"But, Otec, you will come with me."

His father did not reply. The temple shook. The tainted magic grew even thicker. His father pulled him into a strong embrace. "Do not forget your lessons, Markus."

The temple doors dissolved into a pile of dust. Beyond them was a woman as fair as but far more terrible than Queen Artemis. Her smile shown with a vicious glee. Her blood-red robes bore darker stains about the hem and she had a bloodied sword in hand. Her laugh was as rich as it was cruel. "Arctus! Where do you think you shall flee? My sister's favored pet. If you had been mine, I never would have let you toss me over for another. Do you know Artemis still cares for you? I cannot wait to see her face when she learns you have died." Her cold eyes fell on the boy. "Oh, how sweet. The son. Pity I cannot play with him."

His father straightened. "You will never have him, Jadis." He called out the final words to the spell and the shimmering curtain was rolled back exposing a scene unlike the towers, pyramids, temples, bridges and palaces of Charn. Trees standing close together. His father's broad hand landed on his shoulder. He nodded once and then shoved the boy forward through the portal.

Spinning about the boy could still see his father on the other side with Jadis and her soldiers behind him. A messenger came running. "My Queen, your traitorous sister has fled the palace and is gathering her army in the northern section of the city."

Jadis laughed. "You see, Arctus. Even that stupid fool has begun to realize my power. The little fool never managed to undo all of my spells. And you will not warn her this time."

"No!" The boy raised both hands, trying to send his magic through the portal to form a shield. "Otec!"

His father looked him in the eye. "Live."

Jadis swept on him, piercing him with her sword. The boy screamed, "Otec!" The portal closed with a snap, sending him flying and he knew no more.

It was a strange place to wake to, the woods were close together and he could not even see the sky or the sun. There were pools everywhere. The boy looked around sleepily. He felt different. Like something was missing. But it was all right. He had been there forever, after all.

Some time (or perhaps a long time) later, the boy woke to a weight on his chest. He looked into golden eyes. A large black cat purred as it lay on his chest. The boy blinked. "Who are you?"

The cat bumped its head against his chin and then hopped off.

"Hey, wait." The boy scrambled to his feet and hurried after the cat as it wove through the trees and around the pools. He followed the cat until he started to feel tired. He had almost sat down when the cat stopped in front of a pool and then it stared intently at the surface. The boy knelt and peered down. There was an odd little pebble resting on the bottom of the pool. He reached down to pick it up when he heard a roar. His fist clamped down around the pebble as he fell forward. But the pool wasn't so shallow as it had first appeared. He fell and fell and fell.

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25 Frostmoon 1009

"Markus has repented of his past deeds. He is actively seeking to follow Aslan's ways now." Queen Susan glanced at Alambiel as though seeking support before she raised her chin and continued, "Caution shall always be important to us but how do we justify keeping this man in the dungeon when he no longer has magic and has given no proof that he means continued harm to our people?"

Tumnus shifted nervously, tugging at his green scarf. "But, My Queen, how do we know?"

"Master Tumnus is correct," Peridan interjected. "This Markus is not human. He is a sorcerer who claims his magic is sealed but we have no way of confirming this as truth. And," he paused, glancing between Queen Susan and Alambiel, then continued, "it is possible, Your Majesty, that he is employing his magic to . . . persuade you to provide support."

"And do you think I am being unduly influenced by Markus, Peridan?" Alambiel queried.

"You don't seem to notice whether an influence you choose to accept is undue. And your judgment has been imperfect in the past."

"Do you actually have a point, Peridan? Or are you just being annoying?" Before Oreius could intervene in yet another verbal sparring match, Alambiel didn't give Peridan the chance to answer. "Are we or are we not here to decide Markus' future? We are currently withholding judgment on his past. However, if you refuse to believe that Edmund, Susan, Lucy, and myself are able to provide an unbiased report, we might as well hang the man. Or would you prefer a burning?"

"That is not what I said, Your Highness. However, you still have not provided an answer for why you brought a sorcerer here in the first place."

"We need him."

"But, what does that mean?" Tumnus asked. The Faun looked around the room nervously. "You say we need him but you do not say why."

Alambiel stood up abruptly. "Because Narnia will fall without him! I went to find him because of a dream that did not cease until I brought him to Cair Paravel."

Oreius hid a frown as he contemplated his wife's unexpected announcement. His dark colt did not look surprised, though. He must have been told something of it before now. Oreius had to admit that he did not like the idea of his wife dreaming about that sorcerer or that a dream was used to lead her to him. But it was Stonebrook who asked the most crucial question, "Did the dream ever vary?"

"No. It was always the same dream. Every detail remained the same from the start to the horrible finish."

Stonebrook nodded, stroking his beard. "Describe the dream, little one. Let us hear what Aslan used to persuade you."

Alambiel glanced at him then shook her head as she turned back to the Centaur elder. "It always starts the same. I stand on a hill and I can see a broken army floundering in the valley below, trying to outrun creatures of nightmare origin. There are so many Fell. Everywhere I look, I see more of them as they overtake Narnians, soldiers and civilians. I can hear the cries of the wounded behind me and I want to help them but I cannot move. I cannot turn away. I see small pockets of resistance appear but they are quickly overwhelmed and I cannot move so I can do nothing save bear witness. A voice I do not recognize calls to me, bidding me to look to the south. I see archers lying on the ground. They are dead. And among their number is Susan. I am not able to move from my place but the voice still bids me to look to the east. Dead healers among them Lucy. To the west Edmund is among the dead. To the north Peter. Then the blood is no longer all that stains the ground. Now I see fire consuming all before it. And out of the flames walks a figure. He is hooded and cloaked but I know he is male and I feel greater dread in his presence than all save Jadis' children. There is a sense of wrongness permeating from him and when he points at the ground I must look." Alambiel stopped then continued softly, "There are two bodies at my feet, Oreius and . . . myself. I hear the voice again, this time announcing the fall of Narnia for her strength is broken and her protectors failed her."

Silence reigned until Oreius broke it. "How did the dream lead you to Markus?"

"Another voice enters my dream. I do not recognize it but it gives me hope and I can move again. It bids me to walk to the northwest and when I do, I am no longer on the hill. I am in the Western Wilds, standing in a lake. I hear someone approaching and, as I turn to look, the voice whispers that the one who comes to the lake is the one who will prevent what I have seen from coming to pass." Alambiel looked at him then, her blue eyes pleading for him to understand, to believe as she added, "I had the dream again last night. This is too important to ignore. We ignore it at our peril."

Oreius scanned the room. Most of the counselors looked shaken or at least perturbed as they considered his wife's words. Stonebrook had closed his eyes, still stroking his beard, as he contemplated what he had heard. The Faun Tumnus was trembling so much that his hooves were thrumming against the floor. His colts and fillies were quiet and pensive, though they had grown pale when Alambiel spoke of their deaths. Peridan alone looked skeptical but the man often struggled to accept the more unique aspects of Narnia.

The old Raven, Sallowpad, let out a harsh croak and then clacked his beak from his perch atop Stonebrook's shoulder. "Do the Centaur-kin have the gift of foresight? Or did Eve's blood dilute it too far?"

"Asbolus had a strong gift. Hadassah had no gift, or so it seemed, until the weeks leading up to her death but the pattern was the same. A dream that does not vary repeating itself until the events played out. It would seem that the House of Asbolus did not have the gift of foresight completely pass over the Centaur-kin."

Sallowpad shifted, clacking his beak as he turned his head to stare at Alambiel with a beady eye. "But it only comes when death is near."

Oreius flicked his tail. He did not like the implications, not at all, but neither could the warning be ignored. Peridan glanced at him then leaned back in his chair. "Your dream is about self-preservation. That is what motivated you to bring the sorcerer here."

"Actually my concern was more along the lines of Narnia preservation. We need Markus if we don't want to see Narnia covered in blood and fire. Please try to pay attention, Peridan." Alambiel began ticking off points on her fingers. "Six of us have talked to the man. He is a former sorcerer. He was an enemy of Narnia. Aslan blinded him magically so it is as though he is mundane as anyone not gifted in that particular way. He surrendered to a bunch of Narnian soldiers when any fugitive in their right mind would have stayed hidden. So far he's resisted threatening us (being belligerent is not illegal or all of us would be sharing the dungeons with him). He has shared as much information as is relevant to our own current situation. We have yet to catch him in a lie."

Queen Lucy nodded. "Can we not find a solution that does not involve death or imprisonment? If we're going to need Markus in battle and, well, he has repented of his past, we should forgive him. It's what Aslan would do." She turned pleading eyes on her brothers. "Don't you see it?"

"Lucy has a point." His dark colt glanced at him and then at his brother as he steepled his fingers. "Even traitors may mend."

"What of the treachery carried out by Queen Susan's lady-in-waiting?" Peridan looked somewhat apologetically at the Gentle. "The timing is favorable to this sorcerer also being involved. He knows he is being taken to Cair Paravel where the Nymph might give him away so he arranges for her to be killed."

"When?"

"My King?"

His dark colt was frowning slightly as he repeated, "When would Markus have the time to do so? The Princess Royal's methods aren't always as orthodox as most of us would prefer but she's never sloppy. He couldn't have sent such a message when in her custody. And he could not have known ahead of time that she wouldn't just order him executed on the spot. If he's been watching us for as long as he says, then he would know of Redhaven and how she did not wait for Cair Paravel's official sanction in that matter due to the delicate and expedited need of the situation."

"But, King Edmund—"

The High King raised his hand. "You asked about Merry. Queen Susan and the Princess Royal have been investigating the extent of her dealings. Su?"

The Gentle had folded her hands gracefully in her lap but Oreius detected a hint of discomfort hovering around her even as she raised her chin. "We have found enough circumstantial evidence to prove that Merry was a spy for the Tisroc. We know for certain that her contact was the Tarkaan Babak and they were also intimately involved." She blushed slightly but continued in a steady tone, "There is nothing that we have found so far to tie Markus to my former lady-in-waiting save for the fact that he was in contact with her mother prior to that lady's passing a little over one hundred and thirty years ago."

"What of solid evidence? Proof regarding the spy ring's extent?"

"It is still being investigated," King Edmund stated.

Queen Susan added, "And I have yet to see anyone who wishes only to fool us all in regards to their intentions willingly slip into rudeness or giving offense. It is not common. If Markus were truly attempting to sway any of us, then he would not lose his temper or be belligerent or even tell us that he can only give us the information relevant to our situation. Lucy, Kat, and I helped to question him. How often do we encounter resistance? That lasts?"

His golden colt swiped a hand over his mouth, not quite hiding a smile. "It is true. They usually have the full story, be it truth or falsehood, out thrice as fast as any of us. And we have seen that those who attempt to slither their way into our good graces tend to trip over themselves trying to endear themselves to the ladies of Cair Paravel."

Peridan shook his head. "Forgive me, Your Majesties, but this still seems foolish to me. If the sorcerer indeed spied on the royals for a significant amount of time, then he could have learned from others' mistakes how best to present himself in a convincing light. The strongest evidence you have of his supposed necessity to maintaining Narnia's safety is a dream. It is not enough. How can it be enough when this sorcerer led an army against Narnia only four months past?"

Oreius shifted his hooves then broke his silence. "I do not like the situation any more than you do, Lord Peridan. In fact, I like it less. Traitors may mend but the sorcerer has yet to sufficiently prove himself changed. However, we cannot ignore the dream given to the Princess Royal."

Stonebrook nodded, opening his eyes. "The Great Lion sent a warning and also provided a solution, which means the dream is not yet a portent of a set future. However, if it would ease the minds of the rest of the counsel, we might send word to Stormseer. It is possible Aslan has given His Seer further word on this matter." The elder Centaur looked directly at Peridan. "His word would be acceptably solid proof, yes?"

"If Aslan's chosen Seer speaks it, I will offer no objection."

Sallowpad flapped his wings. "Still the matter of what to do with that old sorcerer until then."

Alambiel turned to the Four. "I might have an acceptable temporary solution. Instead of keeping Markus imprisoned and risking renewed resentment, we can offer him parole. He is not free per say but he must adhere to a specific set of restrictions or he shall be put in the dungeons again."

The Four exchanged glances and then the High King nodded. "A temporary solution that will allow us to know Markus better. Too much time behind bars can turn one resentful. I want to see if this sorcerer, this former sorcerer presents a different face when he is granted any type of freedom."

"All right, then." His dark colt rubbed his hands together. "Let us decide the boundaries of this parole and then summon Markus to appear before us." He looked at Alambiel. "I'm sure you have some suggestions."

His wife smiled. "Only a few."

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The summons was not unexpected. Indeed, Markus had been waiting for it. He did not know how Aslan intended to use his death but he would gladly submit for it meant that he would be able to ask the Great Lion every question that still plagued him. He was a little surprised that he was not led into the Great Hall for sentencing before the court. Instead, he was taken to a room. The Four sat directly ahead of him with the High King's consort standing behind her husband's chair, one hand resting on his shoulder. The General and the Princess Royal were also present, though they were on either side of the Four. The rest of the counsel sat, lounged, or stood in an almost complete circle with a single opening between them that allowed Markus' guards to lead him into the center of the room.

The dark-haired king gave a regal nod. "Markus, formerly of the Fell, hear now the sentence presently handed down by Our High King, Our Sister Queens, and Ourself. Until such time as We have taken your full measure, be it for good or ill, you shall be placed on a limited parole. The conditions of this parole will allow you to live here in Cair Paravel. You will be placed under guard, though they will not all be visible to your eyes. You will not leave the grounds of Cair Paravel without prior approval by the Four of Us and the General. This approval must be unanimous and if it is granted, you will have a heavy guard and the destination must be known. You will be permitted to approach the adults of Cair Paravel but you will not interact with any child. You will be permitted to venture through most of Cair Paravel. However, you are not to approach the armory, the Royal Wing, or the barracks. You are forbidden any weapon. If you break any of these conditions or in any way threaten the safety of Cair Paravel and Our people, from the royals to the least of servants, your freedom will be immediately forfeit and you shall be placed in the dungeon to await trial for your crimes."

The High King looked him directly in the eye. "Do you understand the conditions We present?"

"Aye."

"And do you give your word that you will abide by them?"

Markus bowed, chains clinking together. "I give you my word I will abide by the conditions laid forth."

"Then the sentence of parole is passed." The High King looked at the formidable Centaur General. "General Oreius, see that Markus is unchained and have him escorted to his new quarters."

"I will escort him myself, Your Majesty."

The chains vanished promptly. As Markus rubbed his wrists, he could not help but wonder how different this concept of parole was to other punishments he had witnessed. Most likely, the Princess Royal had been involved. She was usually responsible for the more unusual ideas and concepts employed by the Four. Aslan willing, he would not fail in this new challenge.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! All right, I took some liberties in describing the Wood between Worlds (known in Charn as the Land beyond Time) and how the stuff that wanted to get away could have been found as well as with how the last battle for Charn turned out but I thought this worked best for the story. Jadis was able to claim the palace in her initial attack on Charn and then the next two days are spent fighting it out with her sister who hadn't fully retreated. So parts of Jadis' story as told to Digory and Polly in The Magician's Nephew are true and other parts she twisted as suited her own view of the world to paint herself as the victim and justify her cruelty. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.