"So which way do we go?"

Rose stares at me expectedly, waiting for directions. I turn to look around us, trying to look like I know what I'm doing. I planned for convincing her to be the hard part. I kind of forgot to plan anything after that.

"Well. I haven't actually seen much of this forest myself."

There's a pause before she puts her hands on her hips. "Wait. How much do you know about this place? I thought you said you spent hours here!"

"I did!" I match her angry stare and cross my arms. "I have a map in my book, too. It just... doesn't seem to match anything. And I've had no luck finding tree spirits or Aslan to help out. I... spent most of my time trying to find my way back to the lamppost. I got lost, okay? We'll just have to figure it out as we go. It can't be that hard."

"Really. It can't be that hard to find a man we know nothing about while lost in a magical forest with the wrong map. That's what you're telling me?"

"Look, I didn't have a lot of time to plan this! You're the adventure twin, you figure something out."

She huffs and shakes her head. "Fine. Let's just pick a direction and start walking, I guess."

"After you."

Rose glances around us before deciding to walk straight from the wardrobe. Her two dark brown braids bounce against her back as she jumps over debris and marches a bit overdramatically. She always does everything with excessive flair. It's ridiculous.

Our first landmark is a deep ravine with a river at the bottom. I check my map, and if I'm reading it right, there's definitely a river here, but no ravine. I wonder how old this book really is.

We walk along the side of the ravine for what feels like hours. I can't get Rose to shut up with her whinging. The first sign we've found something is the smell. It's jarring—the stench of horses mixed with smoke and the scent of cooking meat. The mix is overwhelming, especially with the strong scent of pine still heavy in the air, same as it's been all day. The change perks Rose up, though.

"A camp! I'll bet it's a camp. A fairy tale like Narnia's has to have a ton of camping while journeying between kingdoms and stuff."

"Shh!" I try to hush her. "We don't know where we are or who anybody is. For all we know, it could be some witch's war camp." That finally shuts her up.

A few minutes more of walking and we can hear noises. The horses sniff and snort around; fires crackle and snap. There's voices, too, and plenty of them. I can't make out much of what they're saying—too many overlapping conversations. This camp must be pretty big. Is it really a war camp, or just a normal stop during travels?

I jog ahead to catch up with my sister and place a hand on her arm. "Hey, Rose, wait. This could be dangerous. We need a plan."

She turns to me. "What do you mean?"

I don't actually know what to say. "I don't know. Something sneaky, I guess?"

She sighs and shakes her head. "You're no good at this." She turns back towards the camp noises. "Okay. We'll stick together and walk carefully, slowly so we don't make too much noise. As soon as we can see anything, we start keeping behind tree trunks. That way we can see them before they see us. A huge campsite like that, they won't notice two kids sneaking around in the trees... I hope."

"This better work."

"Hey, it's not like you had a better plan!"

She's right. I keep my mouth shut.

The first thing we see is the top of a horse's head. I think it's tied to a post. We start passing from tree to tree as planned, peeking around each one to get an idea of where we're going and how close we are. I quickly realize this method is going to take forever before we can see anything worthwhile.

Rose starts heading along the side of the general camp area instead of directly toward it. I just go along with it. Let her be leader for a while. I mean, this outdoors thing is more her area of expertise.

Eventually she finds a spot where we can see people. We crouch behind some bush-type things and I strain to hear what's going on.

There's at least three men standing at the spot where we're looking. They're wearing medieval knight-type armor, chainmail and dark silver plates with reddish-brown fabric over the torso.

"What do you think?" the man in the middle asks, facing the man on the right.

"Of her stories? A bit of history with nonsense mixed in." The speaking man has unusually bushy eyebrows which move up and down when he speaks.

The man on the left interrupts, gesturing with one free hand, the other hand holding a silver mug. "Well I think they're true. All the others were, after all. Why not these?"

The men all have accents unlike anything I've heard. Clearly speech in Narnia is different from speech in England or America. I wonder if everyone in Narnia talks like these men.

"I never believed the others, either," says Bushy Eyebrows. "Guess I'm just an old skeptic."

"What say you, Gadric?" Mug Man asks.

"I think I'm with you on this one," replies the man in the middle. "If the kings and queens can return to defeat Miraz, anything's possible. Just wish this mythical return were a bit happier, like that one."

"I think our king feels the same." Mug Man takes a swig of his drink. "We all do."

"Sure'd be nice to have a queen again, I will say that," Bushy Eyebrows adds.

"Eh, that was all rumor," Gadric says. "One kiss doesn't make a marriage."

Mug Man laughs. "I'll drink to that!" He lifts his glass before taking another gulp.

"You'll drink to anything, Enrik," responds Gadric. His friends laugh and nod.

There's a pause before Bushy Eyebrows speaks again. "What about that other story? During the war?"

"Tempting the prince? I don't know," Mug Man, a.k.a. Enrik, responds, eyebrows knit together. "I can believe all the old tales, but I doubt the witch would make an appearance during an ordinary Telmarine battle. She seems too important for that. Not to mention, it'd been centuries since anyone last saw her."

"Well if reports are true, she's popping up now for no reason at all. Seems she does what she wants," Gadric's tone is solemn. "And the damage matches her history."

The three men look down at the ground. It would seem they've been struck with the same melancholy thoughts. I lean over to whisper to Rose. "What should we do now?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Not enough information. Find a new spot, I guess?"

"Okay, you're the boss."

We resume our pattern of tree-hopping until Rose finds another hiding spot she likes. From here, we can see the corner of a red tent. It's obvious by now that this is some sort of military camp. I know there have been plenty of wars in Narnian history, especially while Mum was here. Is there a war on right now?