The beaver pulls me away, away from the battle. Away from saving Peter. Away from the battle that rages between the Fell and the Narnians. I haven't been here for very long but I know, in my heart, I should keep fighting the good fight. Maybe it's because I feel guilty for being a traitor. Maybe it's because it's my duty to protect my brother. I don't know.
I pull away from the beaver who tells me that Peter ordered me to leave the battle... to go to my sisters.
And I say those words I will always remember, "Peter's not king yet."
Another rebellious saying. "Why don't you do ever as you're told!?" I can still hear Peter yelling at me.
I run forward, ready to stop the witch's advance on my brother. I run and jump. I throw my sword down onto the wand and it shatters into a million pieces. Bright light blinds my view for a second.
I close my eyes as an instinct reaction, when I open them I see the witch's evil smirk at me. She's still holding the other side of the wand. And I know...
I'm going to die.
Her broken wand goes through my flesh. Pain flashes, making everything hard to see or hear. I open my mouth as if I'm going to scream in pain, but I hear nothing. I only gasp.
She pulls the wand out of me. And I fall to the ground with a thump.
I hate wands.
I really do hate wands and Turkish Delight.
But at least I saved Peter.