Chapter Thirty-Five: Nightmare

That night, washed up on the riverbank, I dreamt.

As with most of my dreams, even when I'm in them, I was observing from the outside, like standing on the stage in the midst of a play as the actors move and speak. The setting was again Cair Paravel. It was night and there was a storm raging outside, a violent and wild tempest moving westward to the sea, the same storm that had caused the Great River to become my enemy. I was watching Lucy as she ran through the corridors of the palace searching for something. She was growing increasingly frightened as she hurried from room to room. There were others searching, too, but the dream focused on my youngest sister.

"Edmund!" she called, bursting into another chamber. "Edmund! Where are you?"

I followed, wishing I could speak to her, but this was a dream. Her fear seemed genuine, though.

"Edmund! Please! It's almost midnight!"

Then I realized why she was afraid.

Dread gripped me and my heart was racing. Was he deliberately not answering? No, he promised me he would wait. He would carry on. He would not lose faith in me. He would not purposely do this to me or his sisters, tempted though he might be by constant pain. Where was Aslan?

Lucy looked past me, unheeding. I turned as Martil's voice echoed down the hall.

"My queen!"

She seized the Faun's arms. "Martil! Martil, where is my brother?"

"He went to the stables over an hour ago to help Mrs. Tibs move her kittens to inside the palace."

Lucy paled. "Celer said the footbridge was washed away. Find Oreius and tell him where Edmund went."

"My lady, where are you going?"

"I have to get to him! Get Oreius! Quickly!"

Lucy ran down and down and down, deep into the castle, all the way to the ground level. She ran through the kitchens to the wooden doors on the western side of the Cair. I knew she was going to try to reach the stables. She knew that was where Edmund lay. I heard Susan screaming her name, trying to get her to stop, but Lucy threw open the door and raced into the raging storm beyond. I went too, unaffected by the dark or lashing rain. She was soaked through instantly, holding up her arm to guard her face. The path had turned to a muddy stream. Even in the darkness, I could tell as much. What was she thinking?

She was thinking of Edmund and of midnight.

I couldn't be mad at her even in my dreams. Instead, I was frightened beyond words. The storm wasn't the worst I had ever seen, but it was bad enough and she stumbled against the wind, her dress whipping around her legs. I wanted desperately to help.

Suddenly she screamed as the soil beneath her feet gave way and she slid towards the stream that was swollen with rain and had turned into a raging river. She was going to drown, going to be washed away. She would die. Edmund would die. I felt panic seize me and I lunged.

"NO!"

I woke up, struggling upright on the riverbank. I opened my eyes and for one glorious instant I was looking straight into Aslan's golden eyes.

Hurry, his voice echoed in my mind, then with a roar he lunged after Lucy...

I gasped, trembling and afraid. I was up to my knees in rushing water, my body thrown in a tangled heap on a pile of broken branches and plants and dead animals and refuse caught in a small inlet along the river. I stumbled unsteadily to my feet and dragged myself up onto the riverbank. I looked around desperately, but I was still in the Western Wild, not at Cair Paravel.

"Lucy?" I called uselessly, staring into the darkness. I shoved my long, wet hair out of my eyes, dazed and confused. Edmund. Had they reached him in time?

I never wanted to dream again. Waking up had brought no relief from the nightmare.

I took a few deep breaths, recovering and in a moment's panic double-checking to make sure the apple really was still in the satchel. I felt the lump beneath my clothes and let out a shuddering sigh. I was cut and bleeding and felt as if I had been beaten by a Giant. My head was burning and I probed the area. I had a long cut on the back of my head to my neck and my ribs were so sore I knew they were heavily bruised and probably cracked. Somehow I was still dressed, though my clothes were torn and shredded in a dozen spots and my heavy cloak was gone. I stood as straight as I could manage, fell over in the mud when I got dizzy and my left knee gave out, then climbed back to my feet and surveyed my surroundings. Clouds whipped past the moon, making the light sketchy, but it seemed the rain was over for now. How far had the flood carried us?

"Phillip?" I croaked. I coughed and spit up foul water, but I felt better for it. "Phillip?"

I stared at the wide, angry river. It seemed somehow wrong. It should have been moving the other direction. It took a few seconds for my dazed mind to catch up and I saw I was on the north side, the opposite bank than what we had traveled all this time. After a moment of astonishment I shook myself. It wouldn't be so difficult to cross once the flood died down a bit. I sighed and started to follow the river downstream, alert for Phillip at every step.

It was then that I realized I had much bigger problems than being on the wrong side of the river.

There was a smell of putrid filth and decay. I looked at the withered, wilted trees far up from the banks with horror.

I was in the valley of the Slinn.

Now I understood what Aslan had meant. He hadn't told me to hurry as much for Edmund's sake as for my own.