Author's note: Thanks bunches to all who reviewed, especially Jillie!

Chapter 6: Mallory Uses the Sword

The next morning dawned crisp, clear, but sunless. The band of Narnians, by some unspoken agreement, followed Firumel's lead to the House of Father Christmas.

Mallory learnt a great deal from the Narnians, especially the Faun Corcus, who was almost as talkative as Cheeveereep the Talking Mouse and was even so kind as to offer to pull the Chest for her. He told her about the cruel condition of which the White Witch had set upon Narnia.

"Imagine if you will, Daughter of Eve, winter all year long, for more than a hundred years! And no Christmas too!" Corcus shook his head sadly. " On top of all that, no Aslan! No Aslan is a bad, bad sign! For he is the one to right all wrongs and erect true justice and good. But he hasn't been seen in Narnia for a very long time now, and we were beginning to wonder if he really cared about us at all!

"However, there is one, really small catch. I'm talking about the Prophecy, of course: where two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve shall ascend the thrones of Narnia and defeat the Witch. But," he looked at her queerly, "you are a Daughter of Eve, aren't you? Can this mean?"

Mallory felt her face flush. "Of course not! I came here alone. And I only ever had one elder brother, but he's away in London now (oh, you won't understand because London is in my world). So you must be mistaken!"

Corcus hung his head, terribly dismayed. "Oh, don't look so down, Mr. Corcus! Aslan's appeared to me, so I hope that'll lift your - "

"Aslan? In Archenland?" shouted Corcus so loudly that his voice echoed all through the merry band and the silent forest. He dropped the rope and fell to his knees, and so did the rest of the Narnians.

"Aslan? Where's Aslan? Is he really here? Where is he, I don't see him anywhere? Don't fib so, Corcus! Aslan is here? Take me to him!" the Narnians cried out together and wailed so pitifully that Mallory instantly regretted her words.

Firumel picked his way towards her and whispered in her ear. "Well done, Mallory. Well done."

"I didn't ask for it to happen!" she hissed back, angry and terrified at the same time. She tried to get them to stand. "Oh, do stand, Narnians! Please don't behave so! You're all making me feel ever so guilty!"

Finally, they did stop, one by one, (it was one of the Talking Foxes that got everybody to pull themselves together), they continued the journey. Firumel was not pleased to see that all of the Narnians had red eyes and puffy cheeks. "What would Father Christmas ever think of me?" he muttered to himself, as Mallory walked beside him, her Chest feeling heavier than ever until she decided that she must stop.

"What is it, Mallory? What is it?" Firumel asked breathlessly, causing the Narnians to rush over to her as well, pouring questions all over her: "Daughter of Eve, are you all right? Are you well? Clear away, I've just the remedy for faintness. Oh, goodness, what's happened?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she panted. She stood and gave the Chest a heavy tug. "Oh, the Chest has grown heavier! Whatever can this mean?"

"It means, that you are in the realm of Father Christmas," a kind but stringy voice said somewhere above them. They swung their heads up and gasped in pure shock (the Talking Mice squeaked shriller than a whistle).

A skinny, gangly creature with ears longer than a rabbit and hands as long and thin as sticks sat atop a branch on the oak tree. When he saw their frightened expressions, he grinned and jumped down smartly. "Hallo! Hallo! Don't be afraid, it's only me!"

All the Narnians (and Mallory) were even more frightened, but Firumel only laughed and pecked at the creature so that it squawked. "Why are you not away helping Father Christmas?"

"What are you?" Mallory finally blurted out.

The creature gave her a mortified look and Firumel rushed to say, "This is a Christmas-Elf, Narnians. An aide of Father Christmas."

The fright lifted and the Narnians were a merry gaggle again. Some of the Talking Mice rushed forwards and shook the Elf's hands vigorously, and Mallory could hear them saying, "How do you do? How do you do and how do you do?"

Corcus approached Mallory and whispered to her, "Do you think I should go and ask him for a wish?"

Mallory looked up at him, a little surprised. "Can you really do that?" Her eyes were wide with wonder.

"A Christmas-Elf can give you a wish if he hasn't done so for ten years!" Corcus replied excitably. "Oh, darn it! Look at how the Mice go! If I don't do it now, I shan't get the chance at all!"

"What kind of wishes can you ask for?" Mallory was eager now. She could ask for a never-ending supply of toys, sweets, and most importantly, no school! How simply smashing it would be! All holidays and no term!

By now a throng had surrounded the delighted Elf, who had never received so much attention before, and when Mallory rushed to join in, she remembered about the Chest and that she musn't leave it.

"Oh bother!" she stamped her foot impatiently, for she did so want that wish. But being so close to the Chest had established a sort of protectiveness and fondness for it. So, she contented herself by opening the Chest and pretending that she was looking into a Chest full of wonderful gifts.

But when she had opened it, she looked inside with the utmost surprise.

The weapons in the Chest gleamed and sparkled as if someone had polished it overnight ("That's impossible!" Mallory exclaimed to herself, because no one except herself had looked into the Chest and touched the wonderful weapons). They shone bright and clear, and as she touched the magnificent sword, a wonderful, courageous song awoke in her: a song of courage and splendour so that she felt compelled to unsheathe it.

All of a sudden there came a loud and terrified cry: "Fly! Fly! Fly from the Minotaurs!"

Mallory looked up and found that the Narnians were scattered, running for their lives. Firumel had somehow managed to climb a tree and got himself up to a safe perch, the Christmas-Elf on his back, safe, but pale. The Talking Mice tried to squeeze themselves behind a large rock while the Foxes bounded off into the woods, and were never seen again. The Fauns Corcus and Grumbus were trying their best to climb a tree.

Causing this chaos was a horde of grotesque-looking, shaggy-haired bulls that stood on their hind legs. They roared and huffed and stamped and ran about, their eyes wild with hunger for blood. They were much, much taller than a man, and to boot, they carried spiked clubs. Their howls were much like hooves, but a lot more frightening, and the Narnians all trembled in their hiding places. They were servants of the Witch and more fearsome than the Wolves themselves. How they managed to enter Archenland, no one did find out why, but Mallory did, but it was much, much later on another wonderful story that is right now, not too relevant.

Mallory was rooted to the spot. She was terrified, but she couldn't find the will to move. She knew she should run, but she couldn't. She simply stood there as the Minotaurs ran about, sniffing for enemy, and a few had unfortunately noticed her.

"Get up the tree, Daughter of Eve! Before it's too late! Oh do! Come on, I'll give you a hand!" shouted Corcus.

"Run, you fool! Run for your life!" Firumel cawed out, and even the Elf joined in, "Oh, do run! It's horrible to be eaten by Minotaurs! Many a Christmas-Elf have been innocent victims, and they grant you slow deaths. Fly! Fly!"

But Mallory could not move. The terror fully dawned on her when two Minotaurs roared at the sight of her and bounded in her direction. She remembered the sword in her hands and unsheathed it. She stuck it out in front of her with shut eyes and screamed, praying that she would not be hurt.

When she heard a painful howl, she opened her eyes and to her wonder, her sword had pierced a Minotaur right in his heart. Black blood was oozing slowly from the puncture hole. She drew the sword out with much effort and the beast dropped onto the ground. All the while, his comrade had watched all this with utter shock, and finally it howled with rage and lunged for her.

Mallory ducked it just in time, and (she didn't know how she had managed it) she stood and drove her sword into its back, killing it instantly. By now, all the monsters had seen her with the sword and their rage grew. They rushed in her direction, determined to kill, but Mallory was quicker, given her size, and with a deftness that she had never known before with such a great, sharp blade, she managed to slay a great number of them. The older, wiser ones chose to run, and run they did, their cries ringing out through the forest and shaking the living daylights of other animals.

The Narnians came out from their hiding-places but they didn't cheer or even congratulate and thank her. In fact, they went nowhere near her. The Talking Mice scuttled well clear from her, and even the Fauns were a little hesitant when their eyes met hers.

Mallory was a little shaken from all the murders that she had done, but she still made an effort to wipe the blade clean on the grass.

Only Firumel came forwards. He picked his way through the Narnians and spoke to Mallory in a grave voice, "How did you do it?"

Still feeling numb, she replied hollowly, "I – I don't know." Then, she added, "Please leave me alone. I really had no idea how I - " she whimpered as she looked at the dead pile of Minotaurs, " – how I killed them."

Firumel seemed to purse his beak together just like a grown-up who feels sure that you are lying. But he had to take her word. He told the Narnians to pull themselves together and rest a while before they continued the journey to the House of Father Christmas. They obeyed only too gladly. The fright the Minotaurs caused had wearied them.

All except Cheeveereep. He was afraid of Mallory, who was now sitting on the grass, looking miserable and confused, the naked sword in her hands. He lingered about for a while, wondering and wondering and trying to decide, until Mallory spoke in a very un-Mallory-like way: "What troubles your heart, O Brave Mouse of Narnia?"

Cheeveereep was so surprised that he gave a little cheep but he made his way towards her, for her voice had the air of both a majestic warrior and a beautiful maiden whose beauty outshone the stars. It made him feel brave and tall and mighty. He reached her side and bowed. "I come, fair lady."

"O Brave Mouse, empty your distress upon my willing ears, for I sense it, and it will be wholly wise to do it."

Cheeveereep hesitated, but he spoke anyway, "Well, you see, it's just this, fair lady. I proclaim myself as brave and fearless, but just a moment ago when the Minotaurs attacked, I ran for my life, just like any other Mouse. I left you alone to deal with them when my duty was to protect you, or aid you at least. But I – I - "

"O Brave Heart," she replied and smiled a very gracious smile at him. "Do not be troubled so. There is a time for courage, and there is a time to flee, but right now, what is done is done. I have slain the foul Beasts. There is no more need for worry. Sleep, Brave Heart, sleep a dreamless and full dream."

And Cheeveereep was contented and went to sleep.

Mallory awoke from her reverie and had a faint memory of the strange words that she had spoken to the Mouse. She threw the sword, in all its bareness, into the Chest and shuddered, feeling more confused than ever.