"I'm dreaming," she announced, her voice shaking. "You're not real. Go away."

"Oh, but I am real, my Queen. Flesh and bone like you. But this world of dreams that we move in... is not solid. Not like Narnia. The Real Narnia."

"What is this 'Real Narnia' that you keep babbling about?" Susan snapped.

"Ah..." the old man breathed. "So you don't know, then..."

"Know what?"

"Know what happened to Narnia. It ended... the end of the world came. The sun died; the stars fell; the oceans overflowed the land; it became a barren waste. But He-"

"He?" Susan demanded shrilly.

"Yes, He- led the true believers through the door- to the eternal country. The Real Narnia. And when your family died- that was where they were taken."

"What?"

"Yes, my Queen. The train crash, that was so tragic to you, was really a blessing." The old man's eyes rolled heavenwards. "It allowed them to leave the shadow country- and enter the Realm of Truth and Light. It allowed them to enter the Real Narnia."

Susan's eyes narrowed. Her friends had always complimented her on her mild temperament, and her ability to keep her temper in check, even when she was stuck in rush-hour traffic or the boss was trying to grope her. But as she listened to this creature babble on with careless piety about the most horrific incident in her life, she felt a black, livid fury rising within her breast. For a moment, she wished for a large metal pipe, or a baseball bat, to smash his head in. Smash it into a pulp, like a watermelon dropped from the Empire State-

Instead, she stepped closer, and narrowed her eyes to slits.

"How dare you," Susan hissed. "How dare you mention my family." As she thrust a finger into his face, her voice rose several octaves. "You have no idea what I've gone through... none. And you certainly have no right to spout these mealy-mouthed platitudes at me, you deranged son of a bitch!"

"My queen," the old man said, honey-like, soothing, "I know why you are angry. I know why your rage forces you to speak in such ungentle language. But you must understand-"

"I don't have to understand anything. And you," she shouted, feeling herself teetering on the brink of hysteria, "know nothing about me! Nothing!"

"Ah, but I know everything about you, my Queen." He leaned his head towards her, his thin lips, behind the straggly white beard, curling up in a ghastly smile. "Everything-"

Susan began to edge towards the exit door that led to another car. "I told you." She held a gloved hand up in front of her. "Stay away from me!"

"Much as it would please me to follow your command, lady, I regret I cannot. I must," he intoned, as sonorous as a priest at church, "follow a higher law."

"Well, so do I!" Susan gasped, and pulled the door open. Self- preservation certainly counted as a higher law, she thought dizzily as she groped her way across the swinging metal bridge that connected the two subway cars. She pushed the door of the other car open, and ran across the inevitably empty car as if her very life depended on it.

Which it undoubtedly did.

***