AN: Thanks so much for the positive reviews! Keep 'em coming! I'll try not to take too long in between updates.

"It started for me five years ago, during my first year at university," Jill began. Eustace was too confused to listen patiently.

"Five years ago? But we only entered uni last year!"

"Eustace," Jill said, "please calm down."

"I don't understand," he said annoyedly.

"We'll try to explain it if you'll let us," said Rilian. Jill elbowed her husband to tell him he wasn't helping.

"Eustace, please sit down," she said gently. Scrubb looked and realized he'd been pacing without realizing it. Jill was sitting, very calm and proper, with her hand elegantly motioning to his seat. She looked perfectly royal as she did it, and something about it irritated him more. He didn't move.

"Alright," Rilian said to himself as he stood and faced Eustace. "Look here, lad, you yourself have said that time is different between our two worlds. Jill arrived in Narnia five years ago in our time, not yours. You of all people should understand that. Why is seeing her five years older so much different from when you saw my father fifty years older?" Eustace stopped and contemplated this as Rilian returned to Jill's side.

"I don't know why it's different," Eustace admitted. "Except that I never expected to find you here, Pole. Not living here, with..." he looked at the king. "You understand?"

"I think so," she said slowly. "I never would have expected it either," she smiled at Rilian. Eustace sat back down and listened. "I was on the train back to London for spring holiday. I suppose I must have been called then, by Rilian."

"I did not call you."

"Not directly, perhaps, but it was for you anyway." Rilian looked away. Jill leaned towards Scrubb and explained. "This is a point of contention between us. You see, the country was fine, Rilian was just bored."

"Oh please, Jill," said Rilian.

"Are you going to let me tell this story or not?"

Eustace smiled as little by little, the Queen was eventually able to tell what had happened.

Five years ago (by Narnian time) Jill had been returning from her university in Bath. All packed up and on board she closed her eyes and listened to the hum of the train as it sped away from Bath towards London. Her first year at university had been interesting, but she desperately wished she were actually going home for the holidays like her classmates, instead of returning to dreary old London to work. Her parents had shown no interest in her now that her basic schooling had been completed and she had taken it upon herself to pay her own way through university.

Eighteen years old, and already feeling as though she'd never get out of this dreary pattern of studying and working, working and studying. At this rate she doubted she'd ever be able to finish her degree on time, and wondered whether any of this work would really pay off in the end. The war was over and all the returning servicemen had first pick at the job market, women dead last. Most of the other girls at the university were just there to find husbands. Jill sighed and tried to doze. It would be another two hours before they arrived in Paddington, then another half hour on the Underground to reach her flat.

She heard the hum and felt the jerking of the train, but she was used to that. But, with her eyes closed, it seemed to her that she heard something else too. Some sort of call, very distant and very far away. At first she tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but it didn't go away. There was something very strange about the sound, and it seemed to grow louder, and nearer. Finally she opened her eyes to see what it was, but before she could she felt a sharp tug, jerking her backwards. She fell onto the floor on her back, and for a moment thought that the train must have crashed. But when she opened her eyes she realized that she was no longer on the train. She was in fact in a place she'd never seen before in her life.

The roof was high, but dark. The room was not well lit, but what she noticed first was the faces staring down on her in amazement. There were three men all standing above her (as she was laying on her back on the floor). "Sire?" said one of the men.

"I know, I know. Uh – best help the lady up, Charles."

"Yes, yes of course." Jill felt strong arms gently raising her to her feet. Once balanced she shook off her skirt then looked at the men who were facing her. All seemed to be in their early twenties – two were dressed as servants of some sort, and the third wore a band of gold around his head. He must be the king – or prince – or – "RILIAN?!" she squealed in amazement. In front of her stood her old friend, the king of Narnia, whom she never expected to see again. Despite the six years that had passed on Earth, he looked exactly the same – almost – the melancholy air that had plagued him shortly after his disenchantment was completely gone. He looked healthy and cheerful, yet he was undoubtedly the same person.

Rilian stepped forward in confusion. "Yes, that is my name," he took her hand, awaiting her introduction.

"Rilian! It's me, Jill!" the young king couldn't stop himself from dropping her hand in surprise and staring at her carefully. One of the pages coughed.

"Sire?"

"It's alright, Alden, just a moment." Jill smiled.

"Typical time difference between our worlds?" she suggested. Rilian smiled and nodded.

"I know this lady," he said to the pages. Jill beamed. "She's one of the children that led me from the Emerald Caves with Sir Puddleglum last year. Go, we must prepare a proper welcome for her!" the pages bowed and climbed up the stairs. Left alone in the room the two friends embraced. "I'm so happy to see you again!" he wrapped her in a giant bear hug. Funny how different she looked from the skinny girl he had remembered.

"I know, I'm so happy to see you too. Oh Rilian," she clung to him and he couldn't keep from laughing. "I know I'm being silly, but I don't know what's happening. How did I get here?" Rilian stopped and pulled away.

"Um..."

"What?" she asked. He didn't answer right away. "I don't understand. Just a second ago I was on the train to London and then..." Rilian nodded. "Do you suppose Aslan could have sent for me?"

"No," he said simply. "No, he didn't send you. I suppose I must have called you," he confessed.

"You wha?" she was too confused to speak coherently. Rilian turned and walked to a table picked up a hunting horn and brought it over.

"My father had oft told me of the magic horn of Queen Susan the Gentle. Whoever blows it shall call up help. With it my father called up the ancient kings and queens who helped him win the throne from Miraz. Trumpkin had told me that it was in the royal treasury, so I just went with those two pages to try and locate it."

"You blew on it and it sent me here?"

"Well, not exactly. We found it, but we weren't sure. It was so plugged up with dust that Alden blew on it to clear it out – and then there you were."