5 - The White Horse

Aedan Pevensie was surely a curiosity, but his acquaintance, Digory Kirke, was a marvel indeed. They found him in a cramped campus office, its shelves and desk littered with every kind of book and mysterious trinket.

Or, rather, they found a voice. Maira could hardly discern a man behind the tower of tattered books on the desk's surface.

"Mister Kirke?" Aedan said, knocking on the open door to which the registrar had directed them.

"Busy," came the voice. "Come back later."

"I don't have a later," Aedan informed him.

"Neither do I," responded the voice. "Come later, anyway."

A muscle twitched in Aedan's jaw. He took a step inside the room, navigating carefully around a chair and a pile of stacked papers on the floor. "It's about Narnia."

Maira didn't recognize the word, but an arm shot out from behind the books on the desk, then swept them off it. They tumbled to the floor in a cacophony of thumps.

The young man thus revealed wore a wool jacket, unbuttoned over his waistcoat. His dark hair was longer than the current fashion, combed, but attempting desperately to escape its arrangement. Sharp blue eyes fixed on Aedan. "What's wrong with Narnia?"

"For starters, I'm absent from it," Aedan said.

The sharp blue eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"My name is Aedan."

"Are you royalty?" the young man fired.

What an odd question, Maira thought.

Aedan hesitated, then said, "Yes."

Maira's mouth fell open. What an even odder response!

The young man behind the desk shot to his feet, knocking still more books from the desk with the movement. "Say no more, say no more." He patted at his pockets. "I'm afraid I don't have my rings."

"They wouldn't work, anyway. The Wood is gone."

"Gone?" Digory's piercing gaze returned to Aedan. "Gone where?"

"Inaccessible."

Digory returned to fluttering around the office, searching desk drawers or shelves in an effort to find Maira knew not what. "Quite right. Never likely to get into Narnia twice the same way." He stopped darting from place to place, unlike Maira's attention, which was hopelessly trying to keep up with the conversation. And then Digory's stare fell on her. He jerked to a stop. "And who are you?"

"Maira Singh," she blurted, and for an instant she thought she ought to curtsy.

Digory's gaze darted to Aedan. "Royalty also?"

Aedan's brow inched upward. "No, a friend. She's in need of your help as well."

"Are you Narnian?" Digory asked her.

"I don't know what Narnia is," she confessed.

Digory frowned, but she thought it might be at something in his own thoughts rather than at her. "Ah, from here, then. I wonder if I ought to telephone Polly," he muttered to himself. Then, louder, he said, "Well, I've done a bit of research on the subject. Went into history specifically for the purpose. Looking up gateways and such, indications of people gone missing, popping up later with wild stories," he said, indicating the mind-boggling array of texts and papers littering the office. "Did you know there's a—" He broke off abruptly. "No, Snowdonia's too far, and there's no telling how much time will pass before we get you back home." He snapped his fingers. "The White Horse!"

"What white horse?" Aedan asked.

Digory waved a hand. "Uffington, Uffington. Not an hour away."

"More trains?" Aedan groaned.

"Not at all. I'll borrow my mate's motorcar," Digory said. "He hardly uses it. He'll never even miss it for the day."

If Maira hadn't been looking for it, she might not have noticed Aedan going a little greener. Clearly, whatever Narnia was, it boasted no motorized conveyances.

Maira had never been in one, herself, though her father had done. She knew what to expect, but Aedan had looked so worried about their train ride that she'd done her level best not to let show either her excitement or concern. She watched him now, as surreptitiously as possible. The greenish color was fading already. Aedan might be frightened of things, but he mastered them with enviable speed. Now, he stood straight and tall, ready for anything and with no sign of concern. What sort of decisions did royalty have to make daily to gain such practice? He was cool and watchful and … Heavens, how had she not noticed how very handsome?

Digory's gaze darted between them, too observant.

Maira blushed and turned her stare away to the books on the floor. "Let me help you," she blurted, bending to pick them up.

"Bother that," Digory said, rounding the desk to step over the pile. "Narnia's waiting for her"—He glanced at Aedan—"king?"

"Prince," Aedan corrected.

"Prince," Digory echoed. "I can study anytime."

Maira gave Aedan another surreptitious look. A prince. A prince of Narnia, wherever that was! Granted, she was no cartographer, but just how far had he traveled to end up in a little alley down the street from her house?

- # -

The motorcar was even more excruciating than the train had been. The train had, at least, the benefit of a shade he could close on the scenery speeding past. Now, the countryside whipped by in full display in this lidless conveyance, and it was all Aedan could do to hold down his stomach. The fastest griffin in all Narnia—and even Maddoken the dragon—flew not as fast as this motorcar. And, Digory told them, they were not even going at top speed. The three of them sat in the single seat, with Aedan clutching the passenger doorframe and Maira sitting between them.

"The roads aren't in the best of condition," Digory explained, sitting behind the wheel by which he commanded the infernal thing. "To really go, you need to be on a raceway. If we had time, I'd show you. My mate, he's positively loaded with money. Old family. And he loves a fast motorcar. He's always on the forefront of what makes them go quicker, run better. A daredevil, if there ever was one."

"Quicker?" Aedan echoed weakly, then gulped back his innards as the motorcar hurled itself around a turn, spitting gravel in its wake.

They jolted over a bump in the road. Maira yelped and clutched at Aedan's hand.

He glanced at her, and she looked as haggard as he felt. Mister Kirke was quite the daredevil himself, and apparently, he thought they'd be as enthusiastic about this wild ride as he. Aedan gave her fingers a squeeze and tried to look a little more as though he were in control of his gut. He focused on his breath—in and out, in and out—and it seemed to work. After a while, he was able to sip at the fresh air whipping his face without the worry that his last meal (and when had that been?) would come right back up.

They pulled to a stop at last in front of a large swath of green countryside. Casting his gaze over the rolling downs and valleys, Aedan found himself able to breathe easily for the first time since arriving in this strange world.

It looked much like Narnia's farmland.

He got out of the motorcar eagerly. "Where will we find this horse?"

Digory gave a hearty laugh as he helped Maira out of the motorcar. "If you can't see it, Your Highness, I'm afraid you might need your eyes examined. Begging your pardon."

Aedan scanned the green hills. Here and there, he saw livestock—sheep, mainly—and a few birds skimming the air over the grass, but no horses, and certainly not white ones.

Digory came round the car with another booming laugh. "The hill, sire, the hill. Look at the hill!" He pointed.

Aedan did. At first, all he saw was a sweep of chalky white breaking up the grass.

"Get in the motorcar. Stand on the seat," Digory suggested, waving him back to the vehicle.

Aedan most certainly did not want to do that, but Digory insisted that if Aedan were to get home, it would likely only happen if Aedan acknowledged this mysterious beast on the hill.

Perhaps he couldn't see it from his vantage point. Aedan shrugged, conceding the sense, then climbed back into the motorcar to stand on its seat and examine the green mound of grass.

And there it was.

Stretched out across the hill, frozen in mid-gallop across an ocean of green, was the most enormous rendering of a white horse Aedan had ever witnessed. He marveled, open-mouthed. "Who made this?"

"No one knows," Digory responded. "Pre-historic, they say. Isn't it fascinating?"

Fascinating, surely, Aedan agreed.

"What's it like?" Maira called, standing on tiptoe beside Digory and craning her neck as if she could see the creature.

Aedan reached down for her hand.

With a smile, she slid her hand into his, and he pulled her up to stand beside him on the seat. It protested with a creak, and Aedan shifted carefully so as not to put a hole in the upholstery. No doubt Digory's good friend would balk at their destroying this wheeled monster, whatever Aedan's own feelings on the matter.

"Oh, my," Maira breathed, peering across the hill.

Aedan made to look back at what he could see of the horse (and still, it was hard to make out the vastness of the thing from where they stood), but his gaze stopped at Maira's expression of wonder. Her dark eyes shone, and her parted lips curved into a smile.

By Aslan, she was lovely.

"Well, if we're to get you home, we may want to get closer," Digory said.

Maira's expression sobered. "How will this help me find Farhan?"

"Who is Farhan?" Digory asked.

Aedan jumped down from the seat, then helped Maira down. To Maira, he said, "Would you excuse us a moment?"

She nodded.

Aedan gestured to Digory to come with him, then walked some distance away. "She knows nothing of Narnia, but I know that you do. A Jinn brought me here by some spell using a lock of my hair and Maira's words. Now he is gone, and Maira's brother Farhan as well. I've met this Jinn, and he is no friend."

"It may be that this Farhan was brought to Narnia with the Jinn, but I can't think why," Digory said, "unless he has some tie to Narnia, or Aslan called him there for a purpose." His brow furrowed, and his pale eyes flicked toward Maira. "Perhaps she's meant to go with you."

"A girl from London?"

"Her brother must have gone. Why not?"

Aedan stared across the rising hill at what little he could now see of the horse. "You're right. I must trust Aslan."

Digory grinned. "I do. Let's get you home."